#if youre into doing for want of a nail its gonna be hard to write for a show that doesnt allow for much of that

[mintyys-blog]

okay so ik i requested one before but i have another crazy one

could i request a BOXER!sheisty mark x GIRLFRIEMDreader ? i love the way you write his speech and slang its so UGH, and also could you write reader to be like as unhinged as him? like she talks in the same street style as him and he brings her to all his matches, flaunting her around with gold on her neck and his hand on her waist.

He'd have her kiss his knuckles before the match as a 'good luck' charm and she has a special seat in front near the ring and He'd bring his opponent over to her and beat the fuck outta them in front of her while shes just smiling and shit.

I live for toxicxtoxic ngl, i dont want reader to be sweet or his medicine i wabt her to be HIM in female form. Like if he doesn't win the match she'd be sitting cross legged in front of him with a nasty scowl and arched brow "not gold? you held back baby" she'd say seeing him bring home a SILVER medal and not a gold one like he always does.

but even if their toxic their PERFECT for each other, shes like another version of him and their crazy for each other type shi he calls her his prize after every match, raising her up like a trophy on his shoulder whenever he wins and has her lift the trophy up high

you can take ANY creative liberties babes i am so in love with him and the way YOU write him

GOLD | boxer! shiesty! mark grayson x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: smut, swearing

Do not repost, translate, or rewrite my work (AI generated or otherwise) without my permission. @mintyys-blog

The sound of skin slapping was loud as hell in that tiny ass locker room. Mark got you bent over the counter, one hand tangled in your hair, the other steady on your hip, holding you in place while he drove into you like he didn’t have a match in ten minutes.

Your nails clawed at the counter, knees buckling, mouth open moanin’ his name like a prayer— “Mark…fuck, baby…!”

He was breathing hard already, chain swinging, eyes half-lidded but sharp. The minute his coach swung the door open, shouting, Mark didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even slow down.

Without missing a stroke, he tossed a glare over his shoulder, voice rough and full of gravel: “Get the fuck out. I’ll be done when I’m done.”

The coach? Gone in seconds.

You tightened up around him, clenching down hard with a wicked little smile. You knew what you were doing, that look over your shoulder all sweet and devilish at the same time. Mark let out a rough groan from deep in his chest, hips stuttering against you as he spilled inside, thick and hot, filling you up ’til your thighs trembled.

When he pulled out, he didn’t even let you catch your breath — just yanked your panties back up, letting them soak through with his mess. You whimpered, wriggling to fix your skirt, but he just leaned in, breathing against your mouth as he caught you in a rough, dirty kiss.

You pulled back, smirking like a lil’ menace, smoothing your skirt down, lipstick a little smudged. “Good luck out there, baby,” you purred, eyes gleaming with pure trouble.

Then, just to top it off, you grabbed his blue veil—the one he wore into the ring—and pulled it down over his face, adjusting it slow and tender like you were sending your man off to war.

Before he could walk out, you shoved him lightly in the chest with a little grin, making him stumble back a step. He laughed low under the veil, sharp and cocky, and smacked your ass so hard you gasped, the sting making you clench all over again.

“Better be waitin’ for me front row, mama,” he muttered, voice thick with promise. “I’m gonna beat his ass just for you.” You just winked, leaning against the lockers like you had all the time in the world.

When you finally sat down ringside, the place was buzzing with noise, bodies pressed close together, lights flashing all over the place. But you? You sat cool, calm, picking at your nails like you ain’t just gotten railed out ten minutes ago.

When they called his name and he stalked out onto the floor, your whole face lit up.

Mark was a beast under the lights — gloves flexing, chain glinting, veil shadowing, his smirk. And the second he laid eyes on you, lounging there like a spoiled queen, he grinned under the cloth, chest swelling up big.

His girl. His prize. His reason to break this fool’s face in.

You licked your lips slow, crossing your legs, leaning back in your seat with that evil little glint in your eye that only he got to see. And Mark was about to paint the mat with another man’s blood just to keep your crown shinin’ bright.

The bell rings, sharp and loud, cutting through the thick air like a warning shot. The crowd roars, the energy in the arena buzzing with electricity. Mark steps into the ring, eyes locked on his opponent across from him — a big, solid guy trying to look tough under the lights, but he’s nowhere near Mark’s level.

You lean back in your seat, one leg crossed over the other, your eyes never leaving him. You aren’t worried. You never are. Not when it’s Mark in the ring.

His opponent throws the first punch, a wide swing meant to catch Mark off guard, but you know Mark is too smart for that. He ducks under it like it’s nothing, hands still at his sides, his stance casual, yet deadly.

“Come on, baby,” you murmur under your breath, tapping your finger against your knee. You can already tell — this is going to be over quickly. Mark’s not going to take long to finish it.

He’s toying with the guy, moving like a shadow. Quick jabs, a hard hook that lands flush on his opponent’s jaw, making the guy stagger back. You can see the opponent’s confidence cracking a little, and you smirk.

Mark grins, enjoying the game. He’s calm, calculated. The crowd reacts, louder with each punch he lands. His opponent is growing sloppy, wild in his desperation.

Then, the moment comes — you know it’s coming. Mark’s opponent is too slow, too reckless. Mark steps in, landing a brutal uppercut that makes the guy’s knees buckle. The opponent stumbles, but Mark isn’t done.

“Sit down,” Mark sneers, swinging his fist like he’s taking his time. The opponent’s face hits the mat with a thud, and the referee immediately moves in to count.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the round. But Mark doesn’t wait for the referee. He walks over to you in the front row, eyes locked on yours, a cocky grin spread across his face under the veil. The crowd is cheering, but you’re the only one that matters.

He grabs the ropes and pulls himself out of the ring, never once breaking eye contact. You stand up, pushing your chair back with a smirk.

He reaches down, grabs your face with one hand, pulls you into him, and kisses you deep, rough, and passionate — like he’s been waiting for this moment the entire time. You kiss him back just as fiercely, not caring about the audience or the cameras. His hand slides down to your waist, tugging you closer, as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.

He pulls away with a wicked grin, his lips barely touching yours. “I told you, you’re my prize, baby. I want that gold after this.”

You chuckle softly, that dangerous glint in your eye. “You better bring it home. Don’t disappoint me.”

Mark smirks under his veil, pats your ass firmly, then climbs back into the ring like he owns the place.

The second round starts and it’s over. The opponent tries to fight back, desperate, but Mark is too much — the punches rain down like thunder, the sound of bone hitting flesh echoing through the arena. The guy’s scrambling now, barely able to defend himself.

Mark moves in close, delivering a crushing blow to his opponent’s ribs, another one to the face. The opponent is barely standing now, and you can see the end coming.

Then, Mark stands over him, looking down with that same cocky grin. The crowd’s on their feet, cheering, but Mark only has eyes for you.

“This is it,” you murmur under your breath, your eyes locked on Mark. You know it’s over.

Mark grabs the guy’s head with both hands, holding him steady as he delivers one final crushing blow. The opponent collapses to the floor, knocked out cold.

The bell rings. It’s over.

Mark stands tall in the center of the ring, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, but his smirk never fades. He looks over at you again, the only person in the arena that matters right now.

His coach comes over, handing him the gold medal, but Mark barely acknowledges it. He tosses it aside, making his way out of the ring toward you.

He lifts you up, his arm wrapped around your waist, spinning you around as if showing you off to the crowd. The gold medal now hangs around your neck, and he kisses you again, deep and possessive. “You’re mine, and nobody is going to take this from us,” he growls low against your lips.

You smile, leaning into him, your fingers tangled in his hair. “I always knew you’d win, baby.” Mark raises you even higher, proud of his victory, before kissing you once more.

The crowd’s still roaring, the deafening cheer a distant hum in your ears as Mark strides toward you. His heavy breaths mix with the echoing noise, the air thick with the remnants of the fight. Sweat slicks his skin, a mixture of exertion and the brutal nature of his victory, but his grin is unyielding, like he’s untouchable. He’s not just the champion in this ring — he owns it, owns everything.

Mark doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. He steps in, a powerful arm winding around your waist, and with one smooth motion, he lifts you off your feet. Your body crashes into his chest, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he holds you in the air. His muscles ripple under the tension, a display of raw power that makes your pulse race. The heat radiating from his body consumes you, each inch of him solid and unrelenting. He’s your man, your protector, your predator — and right now, you can feel every bit of that control as he cradles you like the prize you both know you are.

His breath is hot against your ear, ragged from the fight, but there’s something else in the way he holds you, something deeper — a possessiveness that surges through his veins. “You see that? I told you I’d win,” he mutters, his voice a low growl, rough and triumphant. His words make your stomach flutter with the rush of it all. “You’re my prize, you know that, baby?”

You smirk, your lips curling with amusement as your nails tap lightly against the muscles in his shoulder, almost absently. “I know. You always keep your word. And I always get what I want.” The words are just as possessive, as much of a claim on him as his actions are on you. He grins wider, the challenge in his eyes as clear as the bruise forming on his knuckles.

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Mark tightens his grip on your waist, holding you firm as he spins you around, effortlessly tossing you onto the nearest bench. The movement is smooth, like he’s done it a thousand times before, but there’s no mistaking the force behind it. He’s in control. Always in control. And even as he lets you settle against the bench, he stays close, his body pressing against yours, keeping you trapped in his space. You’re his — in every possible way.

His hand drifts down your side, fingers brushing over your waist before sliding lower, where the chain of gold around your neck gleams under the harsh light of the arena. He trails a finger over the metal, his touch delicate but possessive, like he’s claiming something more than just the necklace. It’s as if that gold represents his victory over everything and everyone — especially you. “Gold looks good on you,” he purrs, his voice low, laced with a deep hunger.

You shiver as his breath brushes your skin, and the moment feels like it’s stretching out, a slow burn that consumes you both. Then, without another word, he leans in, kissing you again — rougher this time. His lips are salty from the sweat, but it only makes the kiss more intoxicating. He doesn’t rush, taking his time to savor it like the victory it is. The taste of sweat, of blood, of triumph — it’s all there, and you swallow it down eagerly, matching his intensity, your hands pulling at the fabric of his gear, desperate to feel more of him.

Every muscle in his body is rigid with power, but his kiss is possessive, claiming, as though he wants to bury the very taste of victory inside you. You can feel his body still tense, still on edge, but underneath it all, there’s a tenderness — a strange softness that surprises you. It’s the side of him that only shows when he’s with you — after the violence, after the fight, when the world falls away and there’s nothing left but the two of you.

His hands slide down, gripping your waist harder as he pulls you closer, pressing your body against his with a heat that threatens to consume you both. But even in the intensity, there’s a flicker of something else — something that makes your heart skip. This isn’t just about the victory. It’s about him staking his claim on you, making it clear that you’re his — just like the title he’s just won.

He pulls away for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily, eyes locked together in the silence of the aftermath. The world feels muted, the crowd’s cheers distant. In this moment, it’s just you and him, two forces of nature colliding into something undeniable.

With a grin, Mark pulls back slightly, his hand moving to your necklace, his fingers brushing over the gold again. “You like that? This gold around your neck… that’s my victory. My prize. You’re my prize.”

You smile back, your eyes dark with satisfaction and mischief. “I know. And you always know how to deliver.”

Mark’s smile turns darker, more dangerous, as he grabs your chin, lifting it to kiss you again. It’s slower this time, like he’s savoring every second of it. When he pulls back, he pats your cheek lightly, a smug, satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Let’s go celebrate, baby. It’s just you and me now.” He stands, holding his hand out for you to take.

You take it without hesitation, allowing him to pull you to your feet. The crowd’s noise fades completely as Mark guides you through the backstage area, his arm wrapped around your waist, never letting you go. The night is just beginning, and he’s already planning what’s next — for both of you.

You’re in his world now. And he’s never letting you out of it.

Mark’s grip on your waist tightens as he leads you through the backstage halls, the scent of sweat and victory still clinging to him like a second skin. You’re barely able to keep up with his stride, the rapid pace a reflection of his unrelenting energy. He doesn’t care if anyone sees — you’re his, and that’s all that matters.

You can feel the eyes on you as you walk through the crowd of people who’ve gathered to congratulate him, their voices muffled in your ears. But you don’t care either. They’re just background noise in the symphony of the chaos between you and him. The whole world could burn down, and you wouldn’t blink an eye as long as he was right there — in front of you, beside you, inside you.

Mark pulls you to a secluded corner, away from the flashing lights and congratulatory pats on the back. The moment the door shuts behind you, his hands are on you again, pushing you against the cold wall, his body slamming into yours with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. The passion is primal, untamed, but you love it. You crave it.

His lips find yours with a hunger that’s almost animalistic, his breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. His tongue presses into your mouth, claiming you all over again. You can feel the weight of his body against you, the heat of his skin, the intensity that’s never quite satisfied, always looking for the next high, the next hit of adrenaline. You pull at his clothes, tugging them off faster than he can even react, but it doesn’t matter — you’re both in sync, too focused on the fire that burns between you to care about anything else.

“Fuck,” Mark mutters between kisses, his voice low, rough with desire. His hand slides down to your waist again, gripping you harder, more possessive, as if he’s marking you in a way that no one could ever take you away from him. “I told you I’m not letting you go.”

You pull back just enough to look him in the eye, your smile wild, twisted. “Who says you ever could?”

Before he can respond, you yank him back down, your mouth finding his again in a clash of lips and teeth. His hand slides under your clothes, his fingers hot and insistent against your skin as he pushes you further against the wall. It’s rough, messy, and exactly how you want it. You love this chaos. You thrive in it. The way he burns through you, claiming you, makes every inch of your body come alive.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “You think you’re the only one who gets what they want, huh?” His voice is dark, teasing, but the challenge is there — the same challenge he always gives you, daring you to push him, daring you to fight back.

You laugh softly, a dark sound. “I never said that. I just know how to get you to keep coming back for more.”

Mark’s eyes narrow, and then he pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time. But this time, there’s something else in it — something tender, a strange mix of possessiveness and care. You feel the weight of his hand on your waist, the way he pulls you closer, like he’s trying to merge into you, to make sure you’re always a part of him. It’s rare — this side of him, but it’s there. And you know that it’s as much a part of his madness as everything else.

When he pulls back, his eyes still hold you, intense and unwavering. “You’re my girl. Don’t forget that.” The words are a possessive growl, meant for no one but you. And yet, it’s different than before. It’s not just a claim — it’s a promise, one that’s laced with everything he is. His darkness. His rage. His passion. His obsession.

You smirk, tapping your nails against his chest. “I know. I don’t need reminding.”

The door slams open suddenly, and both of you snap toward it, but Mark doesn’t flinch. He just glares at the person standing in the doorway — his coach. The man looks completely caught off guard by the scene unfolding, but Mark doesn’t care. “What the fuck do you want?” he growls, voice still laced with irritation.

The coach stutters, but before he can say anything, Mark turns back to you, a possessive smirk on his face. “Go ahead. Say it.”

You arch an eyebrow, shifting your weight, then look back at the coach with a malicious smile. “He’s busy. Get lost.” Your voice is cold, ruthless, just like his, and you love the way it makes the coach squirm.

Mark just shakes his head, turning his attention back to you as the coach scurries off, retreating as if he’s seen a ghost. “Fucking amateurs,” Mark mutters under his breath, brushing a lock of hair from your face before leaning in to kiss you again, slow and lingering this time. There’s no rush. Not now. Not when everything feels so perfect in this chaotic, fucked-up moment between the two of you.

When the kiss ends, you look at him with that same twisted grin, the one that mirrors his. “What now?”

He lifts an eyebrow, a wicked smile stretching across his face. “Now we celebrate. And when we’re done… we get more of this.” He pulls you toward him, his hands wrapping around you as he lifts you into his arms once more, like he owns you — and in this fucked-up world, he does.

And you don’t care. Because you’re just as crazy as he is. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

oh could you write something cute about the reader and Lando please, maybe something funny where the reader says "oh yeah I'll do this but for that you'll buy me a Porsche" and Lando actually buys her a car 💜

BRAND AMBASSADOR | LN4

wc : 3k

an : slowly working through my requests yippie! im not too sure about this but i hope its alr :'>

It was meant to be a joke. Really.

But Lando didn’t know how to take a joke.

For weeks, he’d been pestering you to do a photoshoot with him for Quadrant.

“Brand image, baby!” he insisted, arms flailing as if that explained everything. “Power couple vibes! You and me, absolutely dominating the internet. Imagine the engagement!”

“My manager would actually drop dead if I did a hoodie campaign.”

“Oh come on, baby, just one photoshoot,” he pleaded, leaning so far over the kitchen island that he looked like he might slide right off. “Just a few pics in Quadrant stuff! Hoodie, joggers, maybe the bucket hat if you're feeling spicy-"

You didn’t even look up from your phone. “Lando. I’m booked for the next eight months. Vogue is flying me to Paris next week, and Dior wants me in Milan by the weekend. I don’t have time to play influencer in your gamer merch.”

“It's not gamer merch!” Lando gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. “It’s- it's… lifestyle! Culture! Gaming and racing fusion!”

“That’s cute,” you said flatly, scrolling.

Lando narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t even look at the new designs I sent you.”

“Because it’s just another hoodie, baby.”

He gasped again, louder this time. “Just another hoodie?”

“Oh, I’m sorry- hoodie, but make it Formula 1.”

“Wow.” He pointed at you. “I cannot believe this slander. From my own girlfriend.”

“Your supermodel girlfriend,” you corrected without missing a beat.

“And yet, I’m still here, humbly begging for crumbs of attention.”

You didn’t even blink.

And that’s when you heard it. The soft shuffle of socks against hardwood floors.

You looked up just in time to see Lando drop dramatically to his knees in front of you, arms sprawled over your thighs like some lovesick Victorian maiden.

His chin rested on your knee, staring up at you with those big, stupidly pretty eyes.

“Please.” His voice dropped to a pitiful whisper, like he was auditioning for a charity ad. “Do a Quadrant shoot with me.”

“Oh my God, Lando- get off the floor!”

“No. I live here now.” He clung tighter. “Photoshoot. Please, baby. You could be the face of the brand! Imagine it: you in my merch, absolutely carrying. We could finally replace Max’s ugly mug on the website-”

“Lando!” You laughed, swatting at him.

“It’s true! The customers deserve better!”

“You own the brand. You’re supposed to be the face.”

"But you’d look so good in my hoodies," he said, practically drooling at the thought. "God, you in joggers? Maybe one of those cropped sweaters? The internet would lose its mind.”

You stared at him. Long. Hard.

“…Fine.”

His eyes lit up, stars in aquamarine. “Wait, really?”

“But it’s gonna cost you.”

Lando blinked. Sat up straighter. “How much?”

You smirked, dragging your perfectly manicured nails through his curls, watching him melt like butter.

“A car.”

His entire posture changed. He sat up straighter, interest piqued. Now you were speaking his language. “Which one?”

You almost choked. “Excuse me?”

Lando leaned in, eyes sharp now. “Which. One.”

Oh, he was serious.

You blinked, regrouped, and leaned back like you were simply ordering off a menu.

“LaFerrari.”

Silence.

“The red one. Wine red. Matches my nails.” You admired the burgundy polish glinting under the light. “I’d look good in it.”

Lando didn’t even blink.

“Deal.”

Your head snapped toward him. “What?”

“Done.” He stood up, dusting off his sweatpants like you hadn’t just asked for a multi-million-dollar hypercar. “I’ll have the keys for you next week. Photoshoot’s on Friday.”

“Lando, that’s a LaFerrari-”

“And?”

“It’s like… a $3 million car!”

He tilted his head. “Do you want it in the garage or delivered to your place?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“…You’re insane.”

Lando leaned down, smirking, and kissed your forehead. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

“…I want full creative control over the shoot.”

“Baby, you can set the studio on fire if it makes you happy.”

“And you’re paying for my glam team.”

“Obviously.”

You stared at him, still trying to process how you had accidentally hustled a hypercar off your billionaire boyfriend in under five minutes.

“And I want full rights to veto any photo where I look bad.”

“Oh, baby, you never look bad.”

You squinted. “If I show up and it’s just me in some hoodie in front of a brick wall-”

Lando’s hands cupped your cheeks, deadly serious. “You will be in a hoodie… in front of a gaming PC.”

You slapped his hands away.

—

You were never supposed to take it this far.

The photoshoot was meant to be a joke.

A little bargaining chip to shut Lando up for five minutes. You didn’t think he’d actually pull it off.

Yet here you were.

In a studio. In a Quadrant hoodie. In sweatpants.

And to make it worse, Lando was treating this like he was shooting for Vogue.

“Okay, okay- pause! Can we fix the lighting on her left side? I need more contrast, more mood. She’s selling the hoodie but not the vibe.”

You slowly turned to glare at him. “Lando. I am wearing a hoodie. There is no ‘vibe.’”

“There’s always a vibe!” Lando spun around to the photographer. “Tell her there’s a vibe.”

The photographer, who was clearly riding the paycheck wave, gave you an awkward smile and a less than enthusiastic thumbs up. “Yeah. Big vibe.”

You groaned and adjusted the hoodie, tugging the hood up over your head. “Lando, I walked for Dior last month. Dior. And now I’m here, dressed like a Twitch streamer in front of a gaming PC.”

Lando gasped. “First of all, streamers WISH they looked this good. Second of all, don’t disrespect the setup. That’s a triple-monitor, RGB-lit, water-cooled rig worth more than my life.”

“Yeah, well, it better be. Because I’m dying inside.”

“Okay, can we get a shot of her sitting on the desk? Like, casual, but make it fashion. Maybe holding a controller? No- headset! Baby, put on the headset.”

You stared at him. “You want me to wear a gaming headset in a fashion shoot?”

“Yes. Gamer girlfriend aesthetic. Internet eats that up.”

“I haven’t touched a console since the Wii came out.”

“And that’s the fantasy!”

—

Lando couldn’t stop staring.

The moment you put on the damn headset, he knew he was in trouble.

He’d been so smug, so proud of himself for getting you to agree to this ridiculous photoshoot.

But now? Now he was fighting for his life.

Because there you were, sitting on the desk in a Quadrant hoodie, wearing his brand, looking so effortlessly good that it was like the universe was punishing him for ever thinking this was a good idea.

It wasn’t just the way the hoodie hung on you, oversized and perfect, or the way you pushed the headset into place like you were made to wear it.

It was the thought behind it.

You were wearing his stuff.

And that did things to him.

Very Dangerous things.

Lando dragged a hand over his face, trying to snap himself out of it, but it was no use.

His gaze betrayed him, sliding back to you as you leaned back on the desk, legs crossed, your smirk telling him you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

“Lando,” you said, your voice teasing and smooth, “you okay over there, baby?”

He tried to play it cool. “Yeah. All good.” His voice cracked halfway through, and he coughed to cover it up.

But he wasn’t fine.

Not even close.

His hands were clammy, his heart was pounding, and he was hyperaware of the fact that he was growing harder by the second.

Oh, this was bad.

You shifted on the desk, leaning forward slightly, the motion drawing his eyes to your legs before snapping them back to your face.

That cocky little smirk was still there, your stupidly pretty eyes glinting with amusement.

You were enjoying this. Brat.

“You sure?” you pressed, tilting your head.

His voice was higher this time, strained and barely holding it together. “Yep. Fine. Totally fine.”

You didn’t buy it for a second. “Lando…”

“That’s it,” Lando muttered, voice tight, cracking slightly with frustration. “Break! We’re taking a break.”

His words were sharp, a contrast to the usual smooth confidence he exuded.

Without waiting for any response, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from the set with a sense of urgency that didn’t match the cool composure he usually carried.

“Lando, what the-”

“Not now,” he interrupted, low and tense, as he pulled you into a nearby storage room.

The door clicked shut with an almost deliberate force, the sound of the lock turning echoing in the small space.

You barely had time to gather your thoughts before he was in your space, his breath coming fast, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” His voice was low, strained, his hands finding your waist, gripping tight, enough to bruise.

A slow smile spread across your lips. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Lando’s forehead pressed against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as if trying to center himself.

His breath fanned across your lips, shaky and uneven, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest seemed to rise and fall faster with every breath.

“You’re a brat,” he muttered under his breath, voice raw, yet edged with something almost desperate.

“You’re the one who wanted me in your merch,” you teased, your fingers curling into his hair as you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his body.

“Yeah, well…” His hands slid lower, pulling you closer, his fingertips burning against your skin. “Now I’ve got more than I bargained for.”

The words barely left his lips before his mouth found yours.

The kiss was messy, urgent, his lips urgent against yours, like he couldn’t get enough.

You didn’t need to think. Your body responded immediately, hands moving to pull him closer, the heat building.

The press of his body against yours was relentless, hard and desperate, as he deepened the kiss.

His hand slid down your thigh, pulling it up to hook around his waist, while the other traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw.

His breath fanned across your skin, shallow and uneven, each exhale carrying a heat that set your nerves ablaze.

“You don’t fight fair,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with a hunger that made your stomach flip. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as his teeth grazed your throat.

Your lips curled into a smirk, your nails raking across his back just enough to make him shudder. The sound of his sharp inhale sent a rush of power through you.

“Neither do you,” you whispered, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his as your fingers found the hem of his hoodie, tugging it higher, your touch skimming over his skin.

“God, you…” His voice broke, his words catching in his throat as he crashed his mouth back to yours.

The kiss was harder this time, almost frantic, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

His hands moved with purpose now.

Demanding, claiming, leaving no part of you untouched.

Your nails scraped against his back again, dragging another groan from deep in his chest, a sound so raw and desperate it made your knees weak.

His hips rocked against you, slow and deliberate, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

“Careful, Norris,” you teased, your voice breathless but still carrying a hint of mischief as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. A quiet intensity that you'd seen more than once.

“You’re starting to look a little… well, territorial.”

For a moment, he froze. His chest heaved with every ragged breath as if he was trying to regain control.

Then his lips twitched into a sly, almost dangerous smile, one that sent a thrill through you.

“Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word carrying weight. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, making any distance between you disappear.

The words sent a shiver through your spine. But it wasn’t fear. It was something else, something exciting, something that only made you want more.

His lips found your neck again, pressing soft, burning kisses against your skin.

His teeth grazed over your pulse, just enough to send a jolt through you, sharp and unexpected, making your breath catch in your throat.

You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered, “Everyone’s going to notice, you know. You weren’t exactly subtle when you dragged me off like that.”

The corner of his mouth curled into a grin, but it was dark now, and there was a sudden pressure in his hands as he adjusted his position against you. “Let them notice,” he said, his voice thick with something unspoken.

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t care. They can see whatever they want.”

The words sent a wave of heat rushing through your body, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, your nails scraping lightly over his back.

—-

When it was over, you leaned back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath.

Lando, however, was already standing in front of you, his hair tousled, his hoodie still hanging off his frame in a way that somehow made it look even better on him than it ever had before.

He bent down casually to scoop your underwear from the floor, dangling them in front of you with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Come on, love,” he said, his voice rough and teasing, still thick with exertion. “Don’t leave me hanging. Put these back on before we go out there.”

You shot him a glare, snatching the fabric from his hand and hurriedly slipping it on, feeling the heat rush to your face.

Lando leaned back against the wall, watching you with a cocky, self-satisfied grin. “Still dripping with me,” he murmured, but the rasp in his voice made your stomach flip. You felt your cheeks flush even more.

You rolled your eyes, tugging the hoodie down to hide your body and fix your composure. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with a wink. “Guess that says something about you too.”

The studio lights were still dimmed as you walked back in, legs slightly unsteady. You caught yourself on the doorframe, trying to keep your cool, but the feeling between your legs was still fresh, raw.

Lando followed you, smirking like a cat that had just caught its prey. He leaned against the wall, eyes on you as his grin grew wider. “Fix your hair,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “You look like you just got fucked.”

You barely suppressed a laugh, brushing your fingers through your hair and pulling it back into something that at least resembled “done.” “Gee, I wonder why,” you muttered under your breath.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way you were still trying to play it cool. “Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

You narrowed your eyes, about to retort when Lando took a step forward, his smirk never fading, and pulled you close. He kissed you softly, lingering, the kind of kiss that made it hard to remember where you ended and he began.

“Come on,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away, the mischief still dancing in his eyes. “We’ve got a photoshoot to finish.”

—-

Months passed.

The LaFerrari didn’t show up.

Not that you cared. Really.

Sure, it had been a fun little joke—“Pay me in a LaFerrari or I’m not doing this shoot”—but you never expected Lando to actually follow through.

He said he would but Lando also forgot to stock up on groceries some days so you didn’t take it to heart.

Besides, it wasn’t like you had time to think about it.

Your schedule was relentless: fashion weeks in Paris, Vogue shoots in Milan, fittings for Dior in New York.

You were barely home long enough to unpack, let alone pine after a car.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Until one night, after a particularly grueling flight back from London, you pulled into your driveway and-

You slammed the brakes.

Because there it was.

A LaFerrari.

Burgundy red. Like aged wine. Like sin and velvet had a baby and parked it outside your house.

It gleamed under the porch light, shameless and expensive.

For a full minute, you did nothing but stare, slack-jawed.

Then you slowly got out of the car, leaving your bags in the trunk.

“Lando,” you muttered, pulling out your phone.

You called.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, baby- what’s up?”

“You left a LaFerrari on my driveway.”

“Oh! You got home?” He sounded way too casual.

“Lando. There is a multi-million-dollar car parked outside my house.”

“Yeah, about that. It’s yours. Obviously.”

“…You’re joking.”

“Would I joke about something this expensive?”

“Yes.”

“Fair. But not this time.”

You stared at the car again.

“Are you serious? After months?”

“It takes time to deliver a LaFerrari!” Lando said, his voice way too serious for a man who had just been exposed.

“I had to get it customized, too. Your name is literally engraved on the side. And then there was the whole issue with cargo. Did you know they’re super strict about how cars are transported? I had to make sure it wasn’t gonna get dented, and the shipping company I trust didn’t have any available slots until-”

“I thought you were joking, Lando!”

“Well, I wasn’t,” he replied confidently. “You said you wanted a LaFerrari. You said ‘make it red wine,’ so I made it red wine. I also got the seats customized with carbon fiber inserts and-”

You groaned in disbelief, interrupting him. “You literally bought the car, customized it, and shipped it to my house."

Lando blinked, unfazed. “Well, yeah. Obviously. Did you think I was kidding about that part?”

“Yes! It’s a LaFerrari! Who even does that?! It’s absurd!”

"Clearly me.” He paused. “Check the glove compartment.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Suspicious, you approached the car, heels clicking on the pavement. You opened the door.

God, even the door sounded expensive- and popped the glove compartment.

Inside was a tiny Hot Wheels car. A red LaFerrari.

Taped to it was a sticky note.

“Just in case this one wasn’t enough. - Lando”

You stared at it.

You looked back at the LaFerrari, glinting under the sun like some ridiculous, over-the-top love letter.

“…I’m taking it to the Dior fitting tomorrow.”

“You better.”

“…Is this why you were ignoring my texts last week?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you! I was busy coordinating with Italy!”

“Oh my God.”

[hy6erion]

i keep reading jayce and his stupid big dick pleaseee write more if you can its so hot🧎🧎🧎 i don't see enough of dom jayce🙏🏻

(no pressure if you don't feel like it!!!♡ i love the way you write btw!♡♡♡♡♡)

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬)

⇢𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞(𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬), 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Jayce had been fuming all night.

You had seen the way his jaw locked, the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides, the way his golden-brown eyes darkened every time someone looked at you for too long.

It didn't matter that you had done nothing wrong.

It didn't matter that you weren't flirting.

To Jayce, it was enough.

So now?

Now you're face-down on the mattress, legs spread wide, your ass up in the air, completely at his mercy.

And fuck- he wasn’t being gentle.

His thick cock slams into you from behind, stretching you open, his hands digging into your hips, holding you exactly where he wants you. The wet slap of his skin against yours fills the room, filthy and obscene, your slick dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.

"You think this pussy belongs to anyone but me?" he growls against your ear, his voice low, rough, vibrating with jealousy.

"T-thought you could just bat your pretty little lashes and have every guy in the room eating out of your fucking hand?"

You sob, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your body rocking forward with every brutal thrust, every stroke hitting so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck—"

"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he mocks, his grip tightening, forcing you to take him deeper, harder.

"Like being reminded exactly who this pussy belongs to?"

You can't even speak, can't even breathe, your mouth hanging open, your moans breaking into breathless sobs as he pounds into you, fucking you like he's trying to fuck the memory of every other man out of your head.

"You're so fucking tight, baby-fuck-squeezing my cock like you were made for me," he groans, his fingers bruising into your skin, his pace relentless.

"This is mine. This pretty little cunt? Fucking mine."

You're completely wrecked, your body shaking, your thighs trembling violently, your pussy soaked, fluttering around his cock, dragging him deeper with every thrust.

"Ohhh, fuck-Jayce-s'too much-s'too deep-"

"Too deep?" he laughs breathlessly, mocking, pressing a big hand between your shoulder blades, shoving your face down into the mattress, pinning you down.

"Nah, baby. You can take it."

His cock drives into you, filling you to the brim, stretching you so fucking wide you can't even think.

"This is what you wanted, huh?" he grunts, his fingers slipping between your thighs, rubbing tight circles against your swollen, aching clit.

"Wanted me to get jealous so l'd fuck you stupid, make you feel me?"

You wail, your whole body clenching, your nails digging into the sheets as the pleasure piles up too fast, too hard, too much

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck-g-gonna cum—"

"Yeah, baby?" he grins, grinding his cock deeper, dragging out your pleasure, making it impossible to hold back.

"Then do it. Fucking cum for me. Let me feel it."

And fuck-

Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, your pussy clamping down so tight around him that Jayce groans, his own thrusts faltering.

Your body shakes, convulses, pleasure surging through you like a fucking current, your walls milking his cock, squeezing him so tight he nearly collapses on top of you.

"Ohhh, f-fuck-shit, baby—"

Jayce snarls, slamming into you one last time, his hips grinding deep as he spills inside you, filling you up, stuffing you full of thick, hot cum.

"Take it, sweetheart," he grunts, pressing you deeper into the mattress, his hands still gripping your hips, holding you still.

"Take all of it."

His cock throbs inside you, pulse after pulse of heat flooding your already wrecked pussy, dripping out around his shaft.

He stays there, panting, wrecked, his body still trembling against yours. His fingers stroke lazily down your spine, warm, possessive.

Then, finally, he pulls out, watching as his cum spills out of you, thick and messy, pooling between your thighs.

Jayce groans, his fingers spreading your folds, pushing it back in with two thick fingers, watching you shudder.

"Mmm, can't have you wasting it, baby," he murmurs, grinning against your shoulder, pressing a lazy, satisfied kiss there.

You whimper, your body still shaking, still sensitive, still completely spent.

"I wasn't even flirting, Jayce-"

He just chuckles, grabbing your ass, giving it a sharp smack that makes you yelp.

"Doesn't matter," he hums, his breath hot against your ear.

"This pussy still needed a fucking reminder of who it belongs to."

Jayce should be done.

He should be satisfied, spent, exhausted-he just came so fucking hard inside you, stuffing you full, filling you up, marking you in every way possible.

But fuck— One look at the mess he made of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen, wrecked pussy, and he's already hard again.

You're still face-down on the mattress, your legs trembling, your body twitching with aftershocks, your pussy still fluttering from how hard he fucked you.

And Jayce?

Jayce just grins, pressing slow, possessive kisses along the backs of your thighs.

"Mmm, baby, you look so fucking good like this," he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the cum dripping out of you, spreading it along your inner thighs.

"So messy. So fucking pretty."

You whimper, still too sensitive, your body still shaking, but Jayce doesn't give you time to recover.

Instead, he grabs your hips, flips you onto your back, and dives in.

The first drag of his tongue over your overstimulated pussy makes you scream.

"Ohhh-fuck, Jayce-s'too much-"

"Shhh, baby," he hums, his big hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider, pressing them flat against the mattress.

"You can take it."

You sob, your back arching off the sheets as his tongue laps up the mess he made of you, slow and lazy at first, just enough to make you twitch, whimper, gasp.

"Mmm, fuck," he groans, his breath hot against your soaked, throbbing cunt, his tongue teasing along your folds, swirling around your sensitive clit.

"Tasting myself on you? Fucking filthy."

You can barely breathe, barely think, your hands tangling in his messy brown hair, trying to push him away, pull him closer-you don't even fucking know.

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck—please-"

"Please what, baby?" he murmurs, grinning against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you spread wide for him.

"You want me to stop?"

"N-no-fuck-don't stop, don't stop”

Jayce just chuckles, burying his face between your thighs, his tongue flicking out, dragging a slow, messy lick up your slit.

"Mmm, that's my girl," he hums, lapping at the slick, drinking down the taste of you mixed with his cum, groaning at how fucking good it is.

"So fucking sweet. Soaked for me."

He's starving for it.

His tongue works you open, licking up every drop, lapping at the mess between your legs, sucking on your swollen clit just to hear you sob.

Your thighs shake around his head, your hands gripping his hair, pulling, tugging, your body rocking against his mouth.

"Ohhh-fuck, fuck-Jayce—"

"That's it, baby," he groans, his voice muffled, breath heavy, hot, desperate.

"Grind that pretty little pussy against my face. Use me."

You whimper, your legs twitching, your back arching off the bed, your body so overstimulated it hurts, but it feels so fucking good you can't stop.

"O-ohhh-fuck-s'too much-I can't”

"Yes, you can," he growls, shoving his tongue deeper, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs.

"Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue."

The second he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, your whole body snaps.

Your thighs squeeze his head, your nails claw at his scalp, your breath shatters into a scream as your orgasm slams into you, harder than before, overwhelming, drowning you in white-hot pleasure.

"F-fuck-fuck-Jayce, ohhh-ohhh, god-JAYCE-"

Jayce just moans against your pussy, his tongue still flicking, lapping, milking every drop out of you, swallowing it down like he's fucking addicted.

By the time he finally pulls away, panting, his chin soaked, his lips swollen, his eyes glazed over with hunger-

You're wrecked.

Your body is shaking, your legs twitching, your breath still uneven, your pussy still throbbing.

And Jayce?

Jayce just grins, licking his lips, dragging two thick fingers through the cum and slick still dripping from your pussy.

"Mmm, look at that, baby," he murmurs, pressing his fingers inside you, curling them deep just to hear you whimper.

"Still so messy for me."

You whimper, your body too sensitive, too overstimulated, still trembling.

"J-Jayce-fuck, I c-can't—"

"Shhh, baby," he hums, dragging his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You can."

He smirks, crawling back up your body, pressing his cock-already hard again-against your soaked, ruined cunt.

"And you will."

You know he's not letting you sleep anytime soon.

[menagerofmischief]

hiii! Can i please place an order for a charcuterie board, a warm(?) appetizer (not exactly hot but not cold either) if youre unsure just go for a cold one! Then can i be greedy and order the steak, lobster, sausage rolls and gyros? To drink can i please have a strawberry lemonade and its not on there but if you feel totally comfortable size kink too? If you feel at all uncomfy about it dont write it, but if not can i have an ice water (if not obvious from this huge order😭) im not really worried about dessert but if you want to include it you can! Oh i almost forgot! Can i please have charles leclerc as my server please❤️

Dia's Dinner Menu

charcuterie board dating warm appetizer turned cold sweet to rough sex steak "Made just for me, my pretty little cocksleeve" lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" sausage rolls "I'll make it fit" gyros "Gonna fill you up" strawberry lemonade breeding kink fanta size kink ice water dirty talk

Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

TW: pwp, straigh up smut no warm up, unprotected sex, size difference, some mention of breeding, piv

WC: 1.1k

A/N: I didn't really do aftercare but hinted at it in the end, hope that's okay. Also this ask made me add size kink to the menu, so thank you.

❀

One of the culprits for waking me up was the sun shining in my eyes, through the ceiling to floor windows in the bedroom. The other was my boyfriend, curled up behind me with his arms around me and legs intertwined with mine, grinding his hard on into my ass lazily. 

I hummed, bringing one of my hands up to rub my eyes. “Isn’t this a nice way to wake up?” I teased, rubbing the skin of his hand that was resting on my stomach. “Good morning, Charles.”

Charles chuckled, the sound of his laugh ringing through the silent room. He removed one of his hands and used it to move my hair away, then leaned down to kiss my neck. “Good morning, mon coeur.”

It barely takes a few more grinds on Charles’s hips until I’m pushed on my back and he’s propped himself up above me. Charles makes quick work of both his and mine clothes and then he’s looking at me, his pretty eyes wide as they move down my body.

He leans down, his lips brushing against my throat, once, twice, and then he’s trailing kisses from my neck towards my collarbones. I can’t help but giggle, feeling his facial hair rub against my skin. “Charlie, it tingles!” 

“Yeah?” He asks, a teasing note easily noticeable in his voice. His eyes sparkle with mischief and he buries his face in my neck, rubbing against my skin. My laugh echoes through the room as I try my best to wrap my hands in Charles’s hair and pull his head away.

As I am moving him, his hips move a little and the tip of his cock, already leaking pre-cum from I can feel, nudges against my clit, making me whine.

“Fuck Cha,” I say, my voice coming out as a breathy moan. “Need you in me, please.”

He hums, positioning himself properly between my thighs the head of his cock nudges against my entrance but doesn’t push it. “Is that right? My pretty girl needs me to fill her up?”

“Yes,” I say, looking up at him. “Please Charles, fill me up. Fuck me full, please.”

His eyes darken, his pupils blown so wide the color of his eyes is almost unseeable. He starts pushing into me, the tip slipping in and then I’m aware of the burn of stretching to take him in.

I whine, my hand grasping at his biceps and squeezing, my nails digging into his flesh. “Too big!”

Charles looks down and I follow, watching how my pussy is stretching around the girth of his cock. Charles is big, and not only his dick. He’s bigger than me in general. Standing next to him, I only reach up to his shoulder. His hands are big enough to cover mine whole and then some more.

Getting his dick in me, especially without much prep, is always a challenge. A welcome one but a challenge nonetheless. 

I feel his lips press against my forehead as he continues to push himself in. Inch after inch disappearing into my cunt. “Don’t worry pretty girl,” he says, lips brushing against my skin with each word. “I’ll make it fit. I always make it fit.”

True to his word, Charles does make himself fit. After a few moments his hips are flush against mine and his dick is balls deep inside of me. The burn on the stretch is quickly gone, replaced by the pleasure that fills my body once he begins slowly thrusting.

“Look at how well you’re taking me,” he says, his hips starting to speed up. The once slow thrusts are turning into hard thrusts that somehow make his cock go impossibly deeper into me every time. 

“You were made just for me,” Charles says, and I find myself nodding along. “My pretty little cocksleeve. Wrapped so well around me, just squeezing me in and keeping me warm.”

I feel my cheeks warm and burn from his words. “Charles, fuck!” I moan, trying to hide my face into the crook of his neck. “Feels so good, please don’t stop.”

It feels like my whole body is burning and instead of blood it’s lava coursing through my veins. I can barely think from how good Charles is making me feel. Even more so when his fingers reach out to stroke my clit.

“Fuck, mon coeur.” Charles groans, the rhythm of his thrusts not slowing down. “You’re squeezing me so tight, I never wanna leave this cunt. Could just stay buried in you forever and bring you everywhere with me to keep my cock warm and wet. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Being my very own pocket pussy, for me to use whenever I please.”

“Gonna cum! Please!” I can barely make out any words. My moans turn into sobs of pleasure when he presses his fingers down on my clit, harsher than before, and rubs it in fast circles while his hips snap into mine, his balls slapping against my ass.

“Go on, pretty girl,” he growls, his breath hot against my skin. “Cum around me and then I’m gonna fill you up.” The sound of skin slapping against skin is almost as loud as the sound of my moans. “Fill you up with my cum until you’re all round and full of my child. Gonna look so fucking sexy pregnant with my baby.”

I all but scream in pleasure once I finally cum, my legs wrapping around his waist and trapping him inside of me. My walls squeeze around his cock and within moments Charles is coming as well, groaning as his cum spills into me, painting my walls.

We pause for a few moments to catch our breaths before Charles is gently pulling himself out of me, the head of his cock slipping out with a loud pop. 

His gaze is fixated on my pussy, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Fuck, I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” He says, his fingers reaching down to collect some of it and then pushing it back inside, making me whine because of overstimulation.

Charles cups my face and leans in to kiss me. His lips are gentle and his tongue slowly strokes against my own, making me moan into his mouth. When he pulls away he smiles at me. “You did so good for me, mon coeur.” He gets up from the bed and scoops me up into his arms and I hum, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Come on, let’s take a bath.” And then he carries me into the bathroom.

[withlovemark]

“keep quiet”

[requested 1, 2]

warnings: smut! fingering, quiet sex(?)

-> important note: the xo kitty characters have all been aged up to legal age! i refuse to write smut about minors, even if they are fictional.

-

“shhh baby, keep quiet,” minho! swallows your moans, lips entangled in yours, “you don’t want them to hear you, do you?,” he teases — the group was just outside his bedroom door studying for the upcoming exams.

minho, bored of the lessons, wanted to have some fun, “we’re gonna take a nap, i’m too tired for this shit,” he complains, dragging you in his bedroom before you could protest.

now you’re under him, his fingers going in and out of your pussy as you try to control the noises you were making. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in the way that has you biting your lips, toes curling, “mmm-ahh,” you moan breathily, trying to be as quiet as you can.

“shhh,” he reminds you, his fingers quickening its pace on your cunt, curling it exactly the way that hits the spot.

“gonna come,” you whisper, orgasm making you shake, eyes rolling back, shaky breath coming from your lips as you try to stabilize your breathing.

minho admires you’re fucked out state, zipping down his pants and freeing his hard pink cock, he pumps himself a couple of times, keeping his groans quiet, “you think you can keep being a good girl and be quiet for this one,” he says teasingly, slapping his cock against your pussy, making you twitch. you nod furiously, just wanting to feel him inside you.

he slides in between your folds, collecting your juices, then lining up with your core, he slowly enters you. you squeeze his shoulder at the intrusion, and minho had to bury his head in yours to muffle his groans.

once he was fully situated, you pull him towards you, lips coming in contact again as he slowly rocked in and out of you, breathing heavily against each other's lips.

lifting one of your legs up to your shoulder, he quickens the pace hitting you in a way that got you rolling your eyes back, your second orgasm coming to fruition, “ahhh-,” you cry, his free hand immediately covering your mouth, muffling your sounds, hot breath hitting his palm.

your fingers make their way to his back, holding on for support, nails scratching, eliciting a groan from him. the feeling of your nails making him hiss in pain, “oh fuck, love,” he groans, no longer caring about the ears outside.

“say my name,” he orders, removing his hands off your lips.

the creaking of the bed getting louder and louder, heavy breathing gradually rising, being quiet long forgotten as whines of his names exited your lips, like a mantra, “fuck! minho, minho, minho-,” you whine, encouraging him to go faster.

his hand rubs harsh circles on your clit, halting your whines as you moan loudly, orgasm taking over you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock, pushing minho to his own release.

“oh my god-,” he grunts just as his release came over him, quickly pulling out of your pussy, his cum messily pouring out of him.

—

meanwhile on the other side of the door, the group looks awkwardly around the room, the squeaking of the bed and your shared moans hitting their ears.

“uhm, maybe we should move to our dorm?” kitty suggested.

“yeah, good idea,” q exclaims as everyone rushed to pack their staff, hurriedly leaving the boys’ dorm.

[squiddy-god]

Thank you for the meal I will come back and reread the ghost smut forever until it is ingrained in my brain. Mayhaps you will write more 🥺? I'm not even gonna lie I'm obsessed with Mr. Scarletella and Mr. Gap so I would love to see more detailed smut for them if you write more! Thanks for your amazing writing ❤️

Ive been getting so much for these two hehe, i'm not gonna lie, this one goes out to all 12 mr gap fans, i absolutely love this game it is so fun.

Cw : freaky ghost sex, smut, gn smut, down bad behavior on my behalf, blood kink, possessiveness,mr gap being mr gap, mr scarlatella, mr gap.

Scarletella 

More on this man being possessive because he is 

You are HIS and he is YOURS and he stands by this fact, it consumes him, keeps him wanting and lurking behind you at all times 

Seeing you act so friendly with the other ghosts makes him insanely jealous, and he feels the need to prove to you that he is much better, that he is yours and that you are his 

Not anyone else's

So he holds you in his lap, nice and close against him while he sinks into you, hearing the way your breath shudders and falters. Those little pleasured noises caught in your throat spur him on to push a bit deeper, and deeper, and deeper until you either cant take any more or he's nestled nice and deep fully inside you 

Oh and your legs just ache, the relentless pace and stamina of this jealous ghost proving to be more than you can really handle

Large grayish hands with painted red nails grip the back of your thighs and your ass, helping you continue to bounce even as your eyes droop with exhaustion and the lewd sketch of combined fluids fills whatever secluded space he found to take you in 

Length : c3b7ce

Tip : b11212

Listen

Listen to meeee

Red man 

Hes very pale but you just make him SO hard, so so hard, his cock cant help but flush a pretty red at the tip,leaking and begging for you to let him in, touch him, anything 

Mr gap 

Nasty man

Love him 

Ok so as i've said before i don't think that he has a body in the traditional sense, i think it's more like mr hood where it's almost shadow like, hence his ability to always appear in gaps.

Lets say its when you hide from mr scarlatella in the hall, so carelessly jumping into his space and you feel something around you, something that seems to move and shift in the shadows.This is because when you jumped down into his space you just landed on him, on his lap…

You look down to see his hands on your hips, holding you there and when you glance up he has the most shit eating grin on his smug face, because now you owe him :) 

Poor you

“Me help you. Me want you like me. You like me, we special touch, you come down very much time” 

He wants you to like him, to touch him and let him touch you in the special way that he knows humans share with people they like

And if you do, then hell let you come into the shadowy little space as you please, for hiding or for…other reasons 

And he's so mean, he wants to see your eyes blown wide, shocked at how he's bullying his length into you, at how the stretch burns as you take him

Pressed chest to what you assume is his chest, looking up as he smirks that stupid smirk of his as he bucks his hips suddenly, forcing more of himself into you and causing a half gasp to bubble in your throat. 

The meanie :(

[kentoxo]

ravish | reader(f) x bf!yuji

pairing: reader(f) x bf!yuji (aged up)

synopsis: after days being gone for a mission, yuji comes home and loves on your body, particularly your mouth

warning(s): face fucking

a/n: just a small thang. to those who have sent asks, im working on them! school/work drains me but ive been making progress in all of them, i swear xo also do we prefer proper capitalization or all lower case writings? just tryna gage based on other smut ive seen.

It was a mystery to recall how you ended up in this predicament.

Your pink-haired lover had you stripped, the entirety of your body exposed before him. Your back was pressed against the cold wall of your bedroom, with your knees digging down against the beige carpet. And before you was your lover, your beloved curse user. And his painfully hard cock.

You couldn't hold contact with his eyes, but whenever you did leave sight of his tantalizing limb, you'd be met with dark, hungry eyes. Those jade orbs had you in a chokehold, especially with how many days its gone without looking at you. You could tell Yuji was preparing to pounce you, as his pensive expression worsened the small pool developing in your flower. He was admiring you, as it has been a week since he couldn't.

"you're so beautiful, m'love," he murmurs quietly. "how is my girlfriend this beautiful?" You shake your head shyly, unable to accept his compliments. But your face goes crimson when his toothy grin disappears, and his lips straighten. "m'gonna show you how beautiful you are..."

Gently, Yuji puts one of his hands on the back of your head, cushioning it against the hard wall behind you. With the other hand, he holds his twitchy cock and looks down at you adoringly. "let me in, love." Obediently, your lips separate.

"Good girl," he whispers before completely filling your mouth. He doesn't ease it in, his tip quickly reacquainting itself with the back of your throat. Tears well up in your eyes, your breathing comes unsteady. Muscular thighs and toned abs fill your blurred view as the taste of salt dragged along your tongue. Squelches from your salivating mouth supplemented the silence alongside Yuji's satisfying grunts. "you... take my cock so well, pretty girl. god, mmph, i missed you and this pretty little mouth of yours."

His member slid in and out of you with ease, his cock shining gloriously from your saliva. You could feel your honey spill from your flower, your cunt eagerly waiting its turn. You could barely breathe now, relying on your nose to keep you going. Albeit this fact, you didn't want Yuji to stop. You wanted him to use you as he so desired. To be loved and ravished by him.

"babygirl, your mouth feels... so fucking, ah good-!" He proceeds to go faster, his balls slapping your chin with each thrust. You moan around his cock, which earns you a throaty string of curses from your insatiable partner. "more... god, i want more."

He then grabs you by the base of your ponytail, pulling you away from the wall. With both hands to the sides of your head, he continues to face fuck you. His hands guide you, bobbing your head up and down his desperate shaft. Your thoughts were fucked empty, you could no longer think. All you knew was this cock, and nothing more.

"your mouth is so fucking hot, y/n, holy shit," he praises through grunts. Your chin began dripping with saliva, your hands holding onto his thighs in struggle. He chuckled at your nails digging into his legs, knowing you were reaching your limit. You could feel his veins shape into your cheeks, and on your tongue. "i'll fuck you as soon as you get me to cum in your mouth. help me out, will ya?"

You finally hollow your cheeks, your mouth completely coating his cock. Yuji hisses in ecstasy, his hands moving your head just a bit faster. His tip keeps hitting the back of your throat, now causing you to swallow each time. He feels the walls of your throat close, wanting nothing more than to shoot cum right down it. "baby, i'm gonna cum..." He warns you, sweat beginning to bead on his abs.

You hum around his cock in affirmation. He chuckles again before looking up, profanities jumping from his tongue. With one final thrust, he forces his entire shaft into your mouth, part of it housed in your throat. Your eyes widen when you felt his hot load burst and roll down into your throat. Your eyes itched from tears, and you kept gagging on his cock. He was so big, you couldn't handle it. It's only been a week, and your mouth was virgin to his length.

He pulls out slowly, with his tip bouncing off your bottom lip. "come," Yuji's warm smile welcomes you, with two hands being offered to you. You take his hands and rise, your knees burning from the carpet. "you did so good for me, baby," he murmurs, his index and thumb holding your wet chin. Your lips were pink and tender from his relief, and he quickly mends them with a passionate kiss. Calloused hands find their way to your ass, his fingers teasing your pussy a bit with precum ornate on his tips. "looks like your ready for me, baby."

You nod your head shyly, unable to get the words out. Yuji chuckles, a toothy smile illuminating your world. With a kiss on your head, he lowers himself to one of your ears. "since you sucked me off so well, i'm gonna fuck you until the sun comes up. does that sound like a plan, princess?"

[mistywaves98]

Hii! Its my first time asking on here but could you do top!servant!scara with sub!noblelady!reader, also i dont know if you’re fine with writing corruption k!nks but if you are pls include that too ^-^ if not then completely disregard this part AHAHAH.

Also not related to the req but i love your works 😅 i

Aww thank youuu 🫶🫶

✧･ﾟ:* ->Servant! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Corruption kink, Praise, lots of praise!

How you ran the estate inherited from your parents was beyond Scaramouche, with your weirdly optimistic views and naive tendency to try and see good in everything despite the cruel ways of society. It was so clear that you were overly sheltered as a child. Still, it was always a pleasure to work under you. And over you as well.

Your hands clawed at the sheets beneath you, hair splayed out around your face as Scaramouche absolutely ravaged your pussy. The slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of the gummy walls of your pussy reverberated throughout the space of your chambers. "Mmnh... Mistress, you've no idea how I've longed to do this to you... Fuck, you feel so good—" He barely manages to groan out as his hands rest on either side of your head.

It's felt like hours now since he finally caved into his desires, thrusting into your aching pussy with rhythmic jerks of his hips. It's truly not Scaramouche's fault, you know. Your innocence was just absolutely endearing, the fact you knew almost nothing about intimacy just making you all that much more corruptible. The soft expression that always adorned your face never failed to make his cock painfully hard. Oh, how he yearned to make those pretty eyes roll to the back of your head as he made himself at home within the confines of your tight cunt.

You look even better than he imagined, the needy noises slipping out of your throat as your plump lips part in pure pleasure are like music to his ears. The sight of you, splayed out under him and completely bare for his eyes alone sends Scaramouche into a frenzy as he fixates on the way your perky tits move each time he sinks his length back into you.

He suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and maneuvers them to rest over his shoulders. The sweet sound you let out as the blunt head of his cock meets your g-spot sends a shiver down his spine and he swears he just got hard all over again. You feel like you're seeing stars at this point, incoherent babbles and pleas leaving you as your hands reach up to cling to his back, manicured nails leaving crescent marks on the skin.

"Hn... You're so cute, y'know that? Taking my dick like a good girl...—Hngh— God, look at you..so cock drunk you can't even respond properly... You gonna cum? Yeah, that's it..make a mess for me.." He smirks as he feels you clench around him even more, practically suffocating him as he reaches between you both to rub gentle circles against your swollen clit, coaxing you towards orgasm.

His encouragement and extra stimulation makes the knot in your stomach tighten ever so slightly. You're so close... Release feels like it's right there, just getting closer, closer... You jolt as he suddenly delivers a sharp pinch to the sensitive bundle of nerves and that's all it takes to have you screaming his name for the nth time that night as your walls spasm around his cock. Scaramouche delights in the feeling of your cum coating his length as he buries himself inside you over and over again.

Your servant doesn't stop, simply slowing his pace a bit to help you ride out your high. He leans in and captures your lips in a tender yet possessive kiss, swallowing up your noises as his tongue slithers past your lips to explore the wet cavern that is your mouth,"Hmm.. Good girl, you're just as good at following orders as you are dishing them out... You looked so beautiful as you came, I want to see that expression of pure bliss again. Think you can give me just one more?"

[rafes-slut]

Hey I love your writing sm, can you do shower sex with rafe and reader?

Shower sex

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female Reader

Warnings: (Smut (18+ only), Shower sex, public teasing, oral (f receiving), rough sex, choking, manhandling, dirty talk, hair pulling, slight degradation, possessive!Rafe, jealousy, light spanking, unprotected sex, praise kink, reader is a little bratty, bathroom mirror stuff, messy & filthy language.)

The fight started because you wouldn’t shut your mouth — at least, that’s how Rafe saw it.

It had been a long day. He was already on edge, and you being your usual bratty self — teasing him at dinner, giggling with your phone out, legs crossed just enough to flash that soft skin — pushed him over. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Rafe. He was done playing nice.

By the time you two made it upstairs, his jaw was locked so tight it was a miracle he hadn’t snapped already. You were still talking, attitude practically dripping off you.

“I don’t know why you’re mad,” you scoffed, tossing your bag on the bed, acting like you didn’t spend the whole night flirting with danger, smirking at him like you wanted to be punished.

Rafe’s eyes darkened. He was on you in seconds.

You gasped as his hand wrapped around your throat, just tight enough to make your breath catch. He backed you into the bathroom, crowding you with his tall frame, eyes burning straight through your soul.

“You wanna be a fucking brat?” he growled low, breath hot against your lips. “Then you’ll take what you’re given.”

Before you could respond, his mouth crashed into yours, teeth clashing, tongue demanding, lips bruising. He pulled your shirt off in one swift motion, hands already on your bra, unclipping it with practiced ease. His fingers squeezed your tits hard, thumbs flicking over your nipples until you whimpered against his mouth.

“God, you’re such a tease,” Rafe hissed. “You like pissing me off, huh? Gets your little pussy wet, doesn’t it?”

You shivered at his words, your knees weak, but your mouth had a mind of its own.

“Maybe,” you whispered, batting your lashes. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

That was it.

He turned on the shower with one hand, the other gripping your hip so tight it’d leave bruises. Water poured down, steam filling the room instantly. You barely had time to breathe before he yanked your shorts down, panties with them, leaving you bare and gasping.

“Get the fuck in.” His voice was lethal.

You stumbled into the shower, the warm water drenching you immediately, plastering your hair to your face. Rafe stepped in behind you, still fully clothed. His eyes raked over your soaked body, chest heaving, nipples pebbling from the heat, thighs slick — not just from the water.

“Look at you,” he murmured, cupping your face roughly. “So fucking pretty. So filthy.”

His hand slid down your throat, over your collarbone, between your tits, down to your stomach — teasing, slow — before slipping between your legs. You moaned, body jerking as his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles with just enough pressure to make you weak.

“You’re soaked, baby,” Rafe groaned. “And not from the fucking shower.”

He dropped to his knees, pressing your back against the cold tile. You gasped as his tongue dove between your folds, hot and hungry, licking you like a man starved. His grip on your thighs was brutal, spreading you open, tongue fucking into you so deep you cried out, nails clawing at the slick wall.

“Rafe— fuck, fuck—” you whined, thighs shaking, eyes rolling back.

He pulled away with a wet, filthy sound, chin glistening, eyes dark.

“You wanna come?” he growled. “You’d better beg.”

You bit your lip, knowing better than to test him now.

“Please, Rafe. Please— I need it, need you, need to come so bad, I—”

He stood up, grabbing your ass, lifting you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around him, his cock pressing hard against your soaked core. He shoved his jeans down just enough to free himself, then he was lining up, rubbing the thick head against your entrance.

“You need me?” he hissed, eyes on yours. “Then take it.”

He slammed into you, making you scream, head falling back. The stretch was brutal, perfect. Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust, fucking into you hard, water splashing everywhere, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the tile.

His hand wrapped around your throat again, pinning you to the wall as he thrust into you with relentless force, deep and punishing. His free hand gripped your ass, fingers digging in hard.

“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he groaned. “Goddamn— made for me.”

You could barely breathe, gasping, whining, crying out his name like a prayer. He was so deep, you swore you could feel him in your throat.

Rafe leaned in, licking a stripe up your neck before biting your earlobe.

“Come for me,” he snarled. “Make a mess, baby. Let me feel you.”

You shattered — body convulsing, nails digging into his back, thighs squeezing him tight as you came hard around him, sobbing his name.

Rafe grunted, pace getting rougher, faster. He slammed into you a few more times before spilling inside, growling low as he pressed his forehead to yours.

You stayed like that, shaking, breathless, dripping wet, stuck to him like glue.

“Don’t fuckin’ test me again,” he muttered, brushing a kiss over your lips.

You smirked, breath still ragged.

“No promises.”

He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to give your ass a sharp smack.

“Good,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “I like you better when you’re bad.”

[ourdawnishotterthanourday]

Rose Tinted — Boo Seungkwan

✧ Take off those rose colored glasses ✧

Plot: Picture this… you find out that your so-called best friend has been playing you all along.

🎥 Starring: fem!reader x best friend!Boo Seungkwan 🎥 Genre: big time angst 🎥 Word count: 0.9k+ 🎥 Warnings: swearing, asshole vernon, asshole kwannie (sorry y’all), brief mention of blood but not graphic 🎥 Notes: I am baaaack (hopefully for a while). I know I haven’t been posting for forever but I hope to see you all more often again ^^  🎥 Shout out: thanks to my lovely bestie @nothoughtsjustfic for motivating me to write again 💜 love you Chee! Never change pls hehehe

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

Set The Scene Masterlist —  Masterlist

“How much longer are you going to keep this up, dude? She’s been glued to your side since that dumb bet. Weren’t you gonna ditch her like forever ago?”

Time froze as you heard Vernon utter those words to your best friend… or so you thought. 

“Shit, Vernon! Be quiet before she hears you!” Seungkwan hissed in return, which was followed by a dull sound and then a shriek from Vernon.

“Whatever. I just don’t get it. You don’t even like her. She could offer to buy me unlimited pizza and beers and I still wouldn’t be able to handle all that clinginess.”

“Fucking hell! Just get out and don’t come back until we leave. You’re going to fuck up everything,” Seungkwan snapped, his voice unlike anything you’d ever heard coming from his lips. 

“Fine.” Vernon sighed dramatically. “But don’t come crying to me when it all comes to bite you in the ass.” 

A second later, you heard the front door slam shut, the sound of which snapped you right back to the horrible reality you were now forced to face. 

You’d just been shown a completely different side of your supposed best friend and you didn’t quite know whether to cry or scream. What you did know was that you couldn’t stay hidden behind the wall for forever, even though that did seem awfully tempting. You’d never been very confrontational but this matter couldn’t be left unspoken, not if you wanted to keep your sanity. 

You needed to hear the truth from Seungkwan himself. 

With your heart nearly pounding out your chest and a million thoughts running through your mind, you forced your legs to move in the direction of the living room where Seungkwan was awaiting your return. 

His head immediately shot up when he noticed you approaching him, a smile that felt just a little too forced making its way on his face. It was almost as if you could see a sliver of disgust flash behind his eyes.

Had that always been there or were you just overanalyzing everything because of what Vernon said?

“There you are! Any longer and I would have gotten worried.” Seungkwan chuckled as he turned his head back towards the TV.

Right. The movie the two of you had been watching before that awful conversation. If only you could turn back time. 

“Y/N?” Seungkwan asked with a raised brow when you hadn’t moved at all. “Aren’t you going to sit down? We can finish the last thirty minutes before we have to leave.”

“No.” 

Your voice was barely audible but you knew that it had been loud enough judging by the way Seungkwan responded.

“No? You don’t want to watch any more? Well, we can put on something else if that’s what you wan-”

You were quick to interrupt him. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Okay?” He got up from the couch, his brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re acting kinda strange, Y/N. What’s going on?”

Without realizing it, you’d been clenching your fists so hard this entire time that your nails had pierced through parts of your skin, drawing a little bit of blood which you could feel dripping down your fingers. But you honestly couldn’t give a fuck right now. 

“Do you hate me?” you blurted out, completely catching the man in front of you off guard.

“W-what? Hate you? Why would you ask me that?” Seungkwan chuckled nervously, his hand awkwardly coming up to scratch behind his neck. 

“Be honest with me, Seungkwan.” You looked him dead in the eyes, noticing the way his eyes grew wide at the fierceness behind your words.

As if suddenly coming back to himself, he shook his head furiously. “You’re being crazy, Y/N.”

You let out a loud snort. “Me? Crazy? Then are you saying Vernon was lying just now?”

At that revelation, Seungkwan’s mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was about to say something but backed out at the last second. There was no talking himself out of this. And you were not backing down until you’d heard everything, even if it was going to crush you. 

“Yeah… I heard everything. About a supposed bet, about you pretending this entire time and wanting to ditch me. Does that ring a bell?” 

“Y/N, l-listen,” the man pleaded as he took a step forward to reach for your arm. 

“Tell me the fucking truth, Seungkwan!” you nearly screamed, surprising both yourself and him at the anger laced in your voice.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes at first, but it wasn’t long before that disgust you swore you’d seen before flashed behind his eyes once again. 

“You really wanna know what I think of you? Fine!” He threw up his hands. “I don’t like you, I never have, not then and not now. I’m not your fucking best friend and I’m sick of pretending. You’re right. It started out as a stupid bet to see if I could befriend you, but with how fucking desperate you were, that wasn’t hard. And then you just wouldn’t fucking go away so I thought, I might as well use your clingy ass to my advantage. Because who in their right mind doesn’t like free meals and free rides? All I had to do was pretend.” He chuckled bitterly. “Happy now?”

You didn’t stick around to respond, already halfway through the door with tears streaming down your face by the time he finished his cruel rant. This wasn’t the sweet and caring Seungkwan you’d been sharing all your secrets and insecurities with. This was the real Seungkwan, a mean, heartless excuse of a human being who you didn’t recognize at all. 

He’d broken your heart in a million little pieces and you didn’t know if you were ever going to recover from this. 

So much for letting someone in.

So much for not wanting to be alone. 

Boo Seungkwan, I hope it was worth it. 

🎥 Join the Set The Scene taglist: @wonuilu @choco-scoups

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[mrsshabana]

Modern/after all odds Gyutaro definitely did it on the motorcycle despite the risk in being a secluded alleyway or smth since someone was needy and impatient. Gyutaro would have it on or even rev it up sitting backwards while having y/n ride him. The hypersexual thoughts have lead me to a wild imagination once again 😞 Also can I be the 🍰 anon if its not already claimed? ^^

𝐀𝐀𝐎 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⋆ 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, Against All Odds au, public sex, vaginal sex, creampie (if you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds fic, it's an au where demons live amongst humans in a modern au. And all of the kny demons go to university with reader.) ꒦꒷‧₊ Note I decided to write about AAO Gyutaro since I really miss writing that au! And of course, you can be the 🍰 anon if you'd like. Sorry for answering this so late btw. I've been working on other things lately but I was in the mood to write something quick today so I hope you all enjoy it. ♡

"That fucking student council meeting took so long, what the hell were you guys talking about anyways?" Gyutaro growls as he parks his bike behind the science building.

"Douma couldn't decide what color banners we needed for the festival this weekend," you giggle, watching your boyfriend's face contort in annoyance.

"Idiot," he rolls his eyes and turns off his bike, "Making me wait so damn long..."

You look around, confused as to why he is stopping behind the science building on campus. "Um Gyu, why are you stopping here?"

He flips around so he can face you and begins to unbutton his pants, "Cuz I'm gonna fuck you."

'WHAT!?" You yelp, and Gyutaro immediately covers your mouth with his hand.

"Shut it!" he snarls, "I've been so horny all goddamn day ever since you put on that stupid skirt this morning. And now since you made me wait so long, I don't have any other choice but to fuck you right here."

He smirks and pulls his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, already incredibly hard. The large vein that runs down the side of it already popping out, that's how you know he's been hard for quite a while.

"B-Babe I-," you start but he cuts you off.

"Shh, it's ok. The sun's already gone down so no one will see us. I promise..."

He bites his lip and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand goes under your skirt, slipping into your panties to feel you've already started to get wet. But how can you not when seeing him so hot and bothered for you?

Pleased by this, he groans and pulls you into his lap. Slowly bucking his hips, gliding his cock along your slick panties.

"Gyu..." you whimper, "maybe we should move off the bike. I wouldn't want it to fall over..."

"Typical human, always worrying," he smiles, showing off his sharp teeth, "It won't fall over, I promise. My feet are on the ground so I can balance it while you ride me."

"R-ride you?" your entire face goes red. Usually, your boyfriend is on top, taking control and plunging into you aggressively is his favorite way to have sex. So it isn't often that he asks you to be on top, but you can't deny that you enjoy doing it. And he does too, it's just that most days he can't stop himself from fucking you silly. But today he doesn't have much choice.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it right?" He smirks mischievously as if challenging you.

"Of course I can!"

"I dunno... maybe you're too weak to take it. I mean you are just a pathetic human after all," he teases.

You furrow your brows, determined to prove him wrong. So you lift your hips, move your panties to the side, and gently lower yourself onto him.

"F-fuck," a breathy moan leaves his lips as he sinks into you and bottoms out.

"That shut you up, huh?" you tease back as you begin riding him.

He can't deny that you took his breath away, he didn't expect you to take control like you did. His nails dig into your thighs as you pick up the pace. Moaning loudly as you bounce on his lap, squelching sounds filling the air as his thick shaft splits you apart.

"C-C'mon babe ah, if you k-keep movin' like that I'm gonna cum too soon," he clenches his teeth and tries to hold back his moans.

"I don't want us to get caught," you gasp, "Ngh- you do want to cum in me don't you?"

"C-course I do," a needy moan escapes him. He moves his hands to your hips and begins to move you up and down, assisting you in your motion.

You lean forward until his cockhead slams into your sweet spot, "Ah- right there!" Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the mess between your legs spreads all over your thighs.

Your legs are beginning to feel sore but you're too determined to chase your high to even care. Moving faster and faster despite the pain and your thighs trembling.

Usually, your boyfriend would take over at this point but he's too high on cloud nine to pay attention to anything but the way your slick walls wrap around him and squeeze him so tightly. Making it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

And with a strained groan, his nails dig into your skin, his cock twitches inside of you, and he leans back - accidentally revving his bike. But he's too busy filling you with his seed to even care.

Wanting to make sure he got his cum as deep as possible he tightly grabs your hips and thrusts up into you. Creating an absolute mess. A combination of his cum and your slick splattering all over your skirt and the seat of his bike.

You were already getting so close, but now the breeding instinct of your demon boyfriend brings you over the edge. Your walls tightening around him as your desperate moans fill the air.

Gyutaro smirks, pleased with himself as you slump over onto him. Feeling your body shake uncontrollably, he feels satisfied.

"That's it baby," he whispers as he gently kisses the side of your face, "You did so good for me."

"We should do this again sometime..." you whimper and nuzzle against him.

He smirks, "Hell yeah, but let's get you home and cleaned up for now."

He ignores the mess on his bike and pulls his pants up. Then he turns, positions himself properly, and shifts his bike back into drive.

"You good back there?" he shouts, making sure you're holding on tightly.

"Mm hm," you nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head on his back.

"Y'know, maybe we could do this every week after your student council meetings," he snickers as he revs the engine.

[dilf-c0nn0isseur]

I just know Logan would be a rock/metal type of guy so since i watched the x-men movies and the new deadpool&wolverine movie I just can't get *Closer by Nine Inch Nails* out of my headddd!!!! I think it fits him so much, do you think you can write something that's close to the meaning of this song 😭?

I LOVE this song!! hope this captures it like i wanted it to

Closer - logan howlett x fem!reader 18+ MDNI

Logan is an animal in bed. Sex with him is primal; nail scratching, biting, growling as he fucks your cunt so hard that the line between pleasure and pain is blurred.

He's got you on your hands and knees, using one strong hand to push your face down into the mattress so that your ass is arched up in the air for him. The snap of his hips against your skin stings, but you want more.

"Logan I want you- fuck!- closer," you mewl beneath him, interrupting your own plea as he slams into you from behind.

He leans down, his hard, toned chest pressing against your back. You can feel the sweat from his body on yours. His face is now on your shoulder, his lips brushing your ear as he continues his desecration of your pussy.

"Just gonna let me violate you like this, Bub?"

His words are confrontational, demeaning. They only fuel the flame inside of your stomach and make you clench tightly around him. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes as Logan drills into you, and you cry out his name. He pulls your hair to the side and connects his lips to your neck, sinking his teeth into the flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave his mark on you. He's got a claim on you and wants everyone to know it.

He can sense your nearing orgasm and somehow manages to pick up his pace, knowing your climax will urge his own.

"I'm gonna fucking cum Logan, holy shit!," you cry out, threatening to rip the sheets you have clenched in your fists. He feels you tighten around him, your cum seeping out around his cock as you finish. This heightens his animalistic urge and he pushes deeper inside of you, wanting to release every last drop of his load inside of you.

"Gonna fill this tight little pussy up," he grunts while straightening back up, one hand pressing against your back to make sure you don't go anywhere while the other grabs a handful of your ass. There's sure to be a bright red print of his hand in its wake. Finally, he bursts inside of you, and you feel his thick cum coat the inside of your walls white. You feel almost impossibly full of him. The man was a fucking animal, and you loved it.

. . .

a/n: can y'all tell I'm ovulating

[doiliedaze]

Hiiiiii I just read your All Night Long fic and I loveeeeeee it so much!!! Can I request a fic about the reader doing a break up prank on sevika? Maybe she starts out dodging her kisses, and ignoring her calls? can it pls include smut if you’re comfortable?

Warnings: mean/pouty sev, lowkey breaking and entering, kitchen sex, reader gets strapped from the back, orgasm denial (reader receiving), degradation (reader is called a dumbass)

Genre: smut with a little plot

A/N: omg im so excited!! This is my first request and anon that idea is so cute!! I hope you enjoy it!! I really appreciate that you love All Night Long😙 also if you guys want to start like anon emojis we can!! Reader owns a flower shop.

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Your little mind decided to come up with a funny idea!! Plan a prank on Sevika!

Pranks can be all in good fun, if it’s funny but your girlfriend is hard to trick. You’ve tried multiple pranks in the pass and they all have failed so when you saw a breakup prank you knew this was the one!

It had to be natural and you are dedicated to all your plans. So slowly but surely you stop responding to her texts, ignore her calls and when she went to your job to check on you, you were distant and nonchalant. Sevika wasn’t sure what was wrong with you but she knew maybe a kiss would make it better but when she tried to kiss you, you find anyway to avoid it!

At this point she was getting fed up. Your girlfriend isn’t the most rational person so to get to the bottom of it, she broke into your apartment. Looking for anything she can find to be an indicator as to why you’re acting different. She was dumbfounded when she found your computer and saw your search history. “How to do a breakup prank”, reading this made her eye twitch.

Sevika isn’t one for games especially when it comes to you. So if you want to be unfair she’s gonna be too.

You enter your apartment after closing for the day. When you walk past Sevika in your kitchen you say hi to her, until you realized you just said hi to Sevika in your kitchen.

Before you could say anything else her metal hand grabs your jaw and pulls you close, “you’ve been avoiding me over some stupid prank?” You nod

“Do you want to leave me?” She glares until you shake your head no, “then why?” She scoffs as she lets your face go.

“I thought it would be funny” you whimper as you rub your jaw. “Counter. Bend over.” She demanded and you obeyed.

With a harsh pull she rips your panties off and spreads your legs. “You can be such a dumbass y’know that right?” Sevika states as she bullies her way into you.

Your nails scratch against the flat surface, “Sev wait-”

With your plea she went faster, slamming in and out of you, “I don’t ask for much from you, so why can’t you just respect me?” She moves her flesh hand to pull you by your neck making you arch uncomfortably.

“‘m sorry Sev” you cry, I’ll be good” you whisper wanting your sweet girlfriend back.

It’s hard on her to be hard on you for long so she does slow down but she keeps you on your position, “promise me you’ll be good. I don’t like having to be like this with you.”

“I’ll be so good I swear it!” You tap on her bicep as she slinks its around your throat.

She flexes the muscle against your throat and you feel her hips shake. Still a little mad she speeds up again to chase her own orgasm. “I love you” she whispers in your neck.

“Love you too” you moan as she gives you one final shaky thrust. When she lets you go you look at her, “but I didn’t-”

“You don’t deserve it babe.”

You pout and she shoots you a glare, “I don’t deserve it” you repeat, understanding you need to listen to Sevika more.

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A/N: i was beyond nervous writing this and I couldn’t figure out a proper ending! I hope you enjoy this anon🫶🏿

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven

Dividers- @dollywons

[1-800-local-slut]

Word of Advice...

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! Pregnant! BAU! Reader

Spencer Reid Masterlist <3

Spencer and his fiancée are having a baby, and everyone has some advice for them.

I based this on JJ's pregnancy in season 4. This is basically the three times someone gave Spencer some advice about being a dad and his fiancé some advice, I cried writing this because of hormones y'all

Warnings: pregnancy, brief mention of sex, mention of a daddy kink, nothing really, fluff, twins

Request are also open if anyone wants to send anything!

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"You know, no matter how much you research it won't help when you have to actually hold the baby."

Spencer's head jerked up from his computer, no longer fidgeting with his nails and glanced over to Derek. Tabs upon tabs of information distracted him for the past hour. 'What to do as a first time dad', 'When to Start Expecting Cravings', 'How to Prevent Diaper Rash', 'Baby-proofing 101' and more.

The office buzzed softly behind him, other agents bustling around. It was a cool morning, nice and bright but had all the cold spring air Spencer had grown to love with the early call time of his job. Hotch was up in his office, Rossi was currently in the bathroom attempting to battle some sort of meal his stomach didn't agree with, Emily called in sick, JJ had a doctors appointment and wouldn't be in until later and Penelope was busying herself with some random task.

"Sorry, what?" Derek chuckled, his eyes ran over the mess on Spencer's desk. All of his case files, the parenting books he'd bought, the cups of coffee littering the area. How was this guy gonna keep his house clean with a kid running around in it?

"Morgan is right, even though he should be focused on his work. A word of advice, its good to get into the habit of picking up as you go along. Helps in the long run, you know." Hotch appeared from nowhere, in typical Hotch fashion with words of wisdom.

It was true. Spencer Reid, at the age of 27, got his girlfriend fiancée (he was still getting used to the title) pregnant. He got her pregnant, and then all the initial joy and imaginary world where everything would be perfect everything came slightly faded for him. He suddenly remembered him and his fiancée work a hard job with hard hours and an even harder toll on the mind. But he'd been trying not to focus on that, instead just trying to stay on the constant upside.

"Well yeah. I guess coffee cups all over the place aren't gonna be helpful in trying to keep the place tidy." Spencer chuckled, tapping one of the coffee cups on his desk with a random pen.

"I’ll say. You know your girl isn’t down with the nonsense, you better keep that house spick and span if you want to keep your ass clear of a beating. And if she's gonna be the one stressing with child care it'll be safer is you just stay clean and out the way.” Derek lamented. Hotch chuckled and Spencer glanced down at his hand while he grinned.

While he wouldn’t normally wear his engagement ring to work, they weren’t in the field today (hopefully) and he may have forgotten to taken it off this morning when they decided to stay in bed for an extra 45 minutes to sleep soundly. So what was the harm in wearing it? It was a little bit of his home life he would let seep into his daily life.

"Isn't it a little bit too early for you to be looking at all of this anyways? I mean I guess it's technically never too early but she's only what a month a long?" Derek asked, settling himself to sit on the corner of Spencer's desk.

Derek pushed an empty chip bag out the way, as he had settled on the one clear part of the desk. Spencer instinctively grabbed the bag and tossed it into the small trash bin he kept under his desk.

"It's never too early! I figured the better I prepare, the better I'll be able to help out when I'm home. I want to take as much paternity leave as I can, I want to be helpful when I'm home with her." He really should be attempting to clean. A stack of papers straightened, coffee cups gathered into one hand and tossed into the bin two at a time.

"Word of advice..." Hotch grimaced, as he tapped a coffee cup that sloshed and Spence had to grab to keep it from spilling all over his desk. "If you keep your desk as clean as you intend to keep your house, she'll be sending you back to work faster than you can imagine." With a ghost of a smile, Derek chuckled and ruffled Spencer's hair. Hotch smirked, seeing Spencer's mouth hanging open, and the two decided to take their leave to go back to doing the jobs they get paid so much for.

It was true, Spencer is usually a very clean guy but sometimes things get a bit messy. And usually, his fiancée wouldn't mind as long as it wasn't too outrageous but pretty soon those pregnancy hormones would come in full force. A shiver went down his spine as he imagined facing her anger at him leaving piles of books and coffee mugs all over the living room with a chubby baby sat on her hip. Picking up the last few coffee cups, Spencer straightened up his desk once more and finally tried to focus on work.

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"Morning JJ, you want some coffee?" Of course, I was joking. The joke was that JJ (who had recently returned from her maternity leave) was pleased that she could drink coffee again. If anyone bounced right back from pregnancy it was Jennifer Jareau. She looked flawless, glowing even more after her pregnancy. I can only pray to have that same miraculous recovery.

I couldn't drink coffee, the smell making me sick now. Of course I already couldn't have it, you know growing a baby, but it was far easier to resist the temptation.

A job like this has you running on caffeine, quitting cold turkey was like stopping cigarettes over night. Now I settled for some decaf tea, like peppermint or lemon and ginger.

"So, how's things going for the first term?" JJ chuckled, as I placed my spoon down on the counter and blew on the tea. This morning was some hot apple cider with cinnamon and I had a nice everything bagel on the side with some cream cheese spread over it.

"Well I've had too pee every sixty seconds, my tits are expanding with every second, and everything I eat makes me gain forty pounds thanks to bloating. So, great." The happy mood I had this morning was gone. I got to work and suddenly I wanted to put my fist through the steering wheel. And for some reason, Spencer's aftershave was making me want to cry. He just smelt so good, and he looked so good driving us to work, and lately he's just so handsome. Maybe it's knowing that we were about to have a bundle of joy?

"Mood swings getting you, huh?" JJ chuckled, turning around and heading to her desk as I followed behind.

"I'm ready to stop coming in now, I don't know how you were here up until you gave birth. You literally went into labor, I'm ready to go home now. Right now." I scoffed, and grumbled in irritation. I was even ready to stop wearing heels to work.

It felt like at any moment, I would just explode. That extra 45 minutes of sleep helped very, very little.

"Well, a word of advice, positive self talk is so helpful. I don't know why but when I was pregnant everything Will did drove me up a wall, I'm talking I wanted to take down his side of the bed only." JJ chuckled as we approached our desks. I slid into my seat, chuckling. JJ threw down her jacket, a push present from Will, and stretched.

Across the bull pen, Derek and Penelope walked past giggling about something. The two of them thick as thieves like always. The Sun had fully risen, and the world was wide awake. Cars honked outside, the team was wondering around on the floor and of course with no reason to be in the field today it was time to hunker down.

Sit down, do some paper work, the whole 9-5. I couldn't focus on the 9-5 though, hormones driving me to run into my fiancé's arms. To smell him, to hug him and remind him just how much I love him by showering him with hugs and kisses.

"How would you even take down his half?" I laughed as a blew on the cider and opening the file on my desk.

"I was looking at chainsaw's on Amazon, I had a plan I just needed to do it." JJ shrugged, opening her own case file and looking up at me through her lashes.

"Listen, my point is, you just have to try to talk to yourself. You're mind is vulnerable right now to all sorts of crazy emotions. You might suddenly hate everything about Spencer. You can randomly wake up and decide you hate him, you hate yourself, you hate the way your house looks, and that you should just take your baby and run away but you have to remember to keep yourself grounded in reality." With a soft sigh and took a sip of my tea, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't about to hear what I was about to say.

"I'm having the opposite issue with Spencer. I want to like, live in his skin." Was I ashamed to admit it? No. Was it slightly embarrassing to say it out loud? Yes.

"Oh! Okay! I mean, if that makes you happy!" It would make me very happy. Happier than this bagel was presently making me.

"No but I mean it. The mood swings will get worse as your first trimester goes on, you have no idea. Just try talking to yourself as often as possible, journal. Take care of yourself."

"Okay okay, I will. Thanks JJ, you're the best." With a shared smile, it was finally time to get some work done. Or just finish my bagel. Yeah, I'm just gonna finish my bagel.

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"No, mom you need to stay in the house. Yes, she's home with you, you will be fine. I saw my fiancée this morning, I don't miss her that badly in the two hours I've been outside. I'm at Target mom. Okay. Love you, bye mom."

Finally off the phone, Spencer slid his phone back into his back pocket. Diana was there for a visit, something she begged Spencer enough that she wore down his negotiating skills. So she got out of the ward for a fun few days.

And yes, Spencer did love the time he got to spend with his mom. He was more than happy to have her. But preparing for a baby, his fiancée either soul crushingly sad or horny or showing him things for their baby because in four months she'd be forcing it out of her body, and keeping your mom on her meds and your fiancée on her prenatal meds...sometimes a man needed to go to Target.

Sometimes a man needed to make breakfast, intentionally finish the milk and eggs, and suddenly have other errands that needed to be run outside.

Pushing through the aisles of Target, they all blended together. Everything just seemed crazy now. His fiancée was pregnant. She was pregnant, and their baby was coming in four months. She was nesting now, according to JJ.

When they found out she was pregnant she remained logical. She mapped out each important date, each doctors appointment, and left major shopping for a bit later. Spencer was the one buying mountains of books, crying over the minuscule things. Now though, she was crying over the little things, waking up with insane cravings (his favorite one to be woken up at 2:47 in the morning over? Buffalo sauce. Not like, buffalo wings. Buffalo sauce by itself but it needed to be hot and in a bowl and when Spencer protested she looked ready to rip him in two), and each day was filled with 'Spencer look at this, Spencer we need this, Spencer we HAVE to have this for our baby or we're shitty parents, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.'

He was in heaven.

His wife couldn't get enough of him, literally sniffing him like he was a big ass pile of coke, his mom was over, it was almost time for their gender reveal (which Emily and Rossi somehow ended up in charge of planning but whatever), and he would be a literal daddy. Not in the sense that she called him but in the actual way.

Without even realizing it, he was in the baby section. His feet basically dragged him there. There was a little onesie, which would be the perfect size for his baby, a pair of baby booties randomly placed near by. But the couple made a promise to themselves, they wouldn't buy anything without each other unless they literally had to have it for their baby. Like the really cute onesie that Spencer found with a little 'R' on the front. 'R' for Reid. Soon they'd be Mr. and Mrs. Reid. Their baby's last name would be Reid.

His fingers ran over the soft cotton fabric of a pink onesie, that had the cutest little flowers stitched on the toes. He pictured it for a moment, a little chunky light skinned baby with curly hair and dark eyes. Brown eyes and chubby cheeks for his/her mommy and daddy to bombard with kisses.

With soft little fingers and little toes. With big eyes filled with innocence that was Spencer's job to guard, that he already knew he'd lay his life down to protect in a heart beat. A baby with a tiny heart beat that he'd be honored to hold. His baby. Their baby together that they made together.

Spencer didn't know when he started moving again, or when he weaved through the groups of people making their way around Target, but he was now on his way to the front and suddenly stopped in front of the cribs.

A large wooden crib with pretty little birds carved into the side. A mobile hung over the soft insides. There were some pillows inside and a mattress inside that looked nice and soft. On the left of it, a white crib, nothing on it but it looked nice and sturdy. And he knew they could probably find some nice designs to put all over the sides.

"First time?" A deep, scratchy voice pulled Spencer from his thoughts. It was an older man maybe 15-20 years older, with his wife standing close to him. Their cart was filled with toys and an abundance of blue. Blue onesies, blue bottles, blue pacifiers, blue toys, blue bibs, blue blankets, blue teething rings. If it was blue, it was in the cart. Clearly not their first time.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, my fiancée. She's pregnant." The smile and blush of happiness that came whenever Spencer told anyone came back. Heat filled his face with joy. Not nerves or anything just pure joy. He wished she was there with him. He wished she was with him looking at the cribs and holding his hand while they looked around. The couple chuckled at how pink he got before the wife began to speak.

"Word of advice, crib shopping without her is a good way to start a war. If he went crib shopping without me for out first I would've murdered him." People say such crazy shit when they don't know you're in law enforcement. Spencer knew she was kidding and couldn't care less but sometimes he wondered how different everyone around him would act if they knew he was FBI.

At work, when he walked onto a scene wearing that jacket with the letters big yellows letters on the back people steered just a bit more clear of him. I mean the FBI is literally the FBI. If he was a normal ass cop he'd be a bit intimidated as well.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'd do the same thing. I'm just looking right now though. I don't want to do any part of this without her." Spencer would never be this open with strangers but some strange part of him, maybe the part that wished he had grandparents, had him telling this couple with kind eyes. And he of all people knew not to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes it was the nicest looking people who committed the most vile crimes.

"Oh, sometimes you'll have too. Of course, you would never make that choice but take it from 40 years of marriage and 38 years of parenting: sometimes you have to make the calls on your own. It doesn't seem likely now, but as a father you may have to make the best call for your child if your partner is unable to make any sort of choice." Huh.

He never thought about that. Well he should've. He's seen marriages torn apart (usually by the most stressful situation possible, your child being kidnapped or murdered or something) because of one parents choice. Usually it being glancing away for one second. But what if his kid needs something while she's out cold? Maybe she's fast asleep and his kid wants to go outside or something. God forbid it's something far more serious, Spencer would have to make a choice.

Maybe. Who knows. But it was true. Sometimes, Spencer would need to make a choice on his own. And although they promised to make any and all big choices together smaller things would require an adults attention.

The realization was too clear on his face because the man chuckled.

"I'm Clive and this is Judy, it was lovely to meet you young man." He extended a hand, and Spencer took it, returning the firm handshake.

"Spencer. It was nice to meet you too. Thank you for the advice."

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Music was one of the most emotional things in the world. It connected people, spoke to people, saved people. Right now it was destroying me. Right now, I could only hear my heart beat and the Billy Joel song that was wearing me down. The song had me in tears.

I was sitting at our bay window, Diana was watching Judge Judy and sitting calmly after she took her medication this morning with her breakfast. I had a blanket thrown over my legs, a pillow behind my back and my headphones strapped over my ears. She was softly breathing, clutching a pillow to her chest and fidgeting with the soft fringes around the edges of the pillow. From here, she looked a bit like Spencer, eyes focused on the screen with her head tilted slightly to the side. How much would our baby look my me? Or Spencer? Or even Diana, maybe his father or my parents? Anything was possible.

The soft rain pitter-pattered on the window and it just added to my mood. Was I sad? Was I happy? Bitter-sweet was the right word. How would I feel as our child grew before my very eyes? As I watched my baby get bigger with each passing moment? Before eventually they stood on their own two feet and walked completely on their own? I whimpered, an ache in my chest. Each day would be a beautiful reminder of what was to come.

I tried my hardest to keep it down, lest I bother my baby's grandmother. Oh god, grandmother. Diana would be a grandmother. The dam broke all over again and I buried my face in the sheet that was thrown over my knees

"A word of advice," I perked up when Diana's voice added to the mix of music, muffled sobbing and Judge Judy screaming at some random lady.

"When I was pregnant with Spencer, I was all over the place. I kept it to myself, I felt alone. I felt that because I was off my medication my feelings weren't normal but they completely are. Keeping my feelings inside, that turned into stress. Then resentment. For myself, for my husband and sadly for Spencer. Try talking to Spencer about your issues instead of letting them fester."

She read me like a book, what the fuck. Okay I hadn't been the most inconspicuous with my crying BUT dang I wasn't expecting that. I was actually planning to go into the bathroom because I didn't intend to disturb her. Something about being and FBI agent meant emotional constipation. Therefore, I didn't want to talk about my feelings on a deep level, and I did not want a whole thing to be made of it.

But Diana didn't look at me. She didn't turn around and look at me with pity or understanding, she didn't stand up and attempt to hug me, she didn't try questioning me on what was wrong. She just said it. She said it, blue eyes trained onto the TV as a commercial for mesothelioma played. I did my best to wipe tears from my eyes, and from down my face. Perhaps it was time to do away with the music. But in a way, I didn't want this feeling to end. I wanted to feeling to stay. The bitter-sweet feeling washing over me like a blanket. My heart hurt in the best possible way.

"Thank you Diana. I'm not upset, just...feeling things." With a chuckle as I wiped my eyes rubbed my no doubt puffy eyes.

"Well. As long as you're feeling something." Her eyes glued to the TV screen as Judge Judy came back on.

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"Hi everyone, thank you for coming. I just wanted to say thank you for coming to our lovely couples baby shower, Lord knows we all expected to be here sooner." Derek chuckled, raising his ginger ale to us, as we sat perched on the couch next to Rossi's pool. Chuckles and laughter went up all around us, Spencer laughed into his Pepsi. His smile lines crinkled under his sun glasses. God, he just looked kissed by the Sun. God (if there was one) took his time. He took his sweet ass time sculpting each little crease, crinkle, each hair on his head. And it truly paid off.

"Now, if the parents will just come to the front, we'll have them figure out the gender." Finally, Jesus. I loved Derek. I do! But my God could the man talk. And talk. Then talk some more. Maybe it was just the heat bothering me.

It was a sunny day, not too hot though just hot enough to annoy me. People in pink and blue bathing wandered around, Hotch was lounging in his blue swim trunks, Jack standing next to his dad and asking him a stream of questions (he was in that stage) had a the funniest amount of hot pink I've ever seen a child have on.

The wind gave a gentle breeze that offered slight reprieve from the heat as JJ and Will sipped virgin pina coladas from fun sippy cups in their matching pink swim suits. Henry was left with the rest of the kids in the play area with the baby sitters (the same company I planned on using for our wedding) and he arrived in a precious little pink ensemble with pink little sunglasses and sun hat.

And Penny, who could ever forget the darling Penny, who was coming back from the bathroom, with pink hair dye and basically everything else on her body. Even pink eyeshadow. I felt put to shame, thinking my all pink get up was a lot. Spencer had on a blue buttoned up shirt only for the sake of possible opposing sides.

Emily and Rossi (the only people who knew the gender) both wore black swim suits as they sat at the bar. Both giving us no clues at all to the babies gender. Honestly, this entire thing was a bit too big for a regular baby shower.

But we weren't setting any forest fires. Just spending a lot of money on our first child. And with the money we make, of course our children would be pampered each step of the way. No expense needed to be spared. And Spencer, easy going as it is, allowed me to handle the planning for our baby shower (as much as Emily and David allowed me) along with planning our wedding.

The bar, custom drink menu I created, the baby sitting company for all of our friends to bring their kids (honestly this is a small practice run for our wedding), catering company, the pool toys, the kiddie pool Rossi let us set up, and the goodie bags. And Spencer showed up, looking perfect as usual.

Rising to his feet, Spencer gave me a hand and pulled me up from my seat. We waddled (I waddled, Spencer pushed through the small crowd) through the waves of folks who came to see us today (or just came for free food) and eventually climbed to the front.

Looking out at the sea of faces, I almost cried again. I felt Emily place a palm on my shoulder and I wiped my tears before they could fall down. She handed Spencer and I both ice picks, Rossi directing the videographer and the photographer (a personal gift from him). Two black balloons, held in place by David and Emily.

Two black balloons that held out entire future. Two black balloons meant more to me than I thought was humanly possible. My heart beat pounded, as Derek said something about a countdown. The crowd began counting down from ten, as if a countdown was enough for the most important moment of my life, my hands getting sweatier by the moment. Spencer gripped my hand and I glanced over.

Ten...

And I realized then Spencer was terrified as I was.

Nine...

But we were terrified together.

Eight...

And we'd feel everything together from the moment this baby came

Seven...

No matter what happened, no matter how many faces we saw before us right now, it was Spencer and me, and our baby. And maybe one day, more of our babies.

Six...

My soon to be husband, and my child. My eyes welled up again, and Derek made a joke about mom crying early. I'd have to curse him later for being so funny. Our little family was no longer just him, I, Diana and my parents, who were in matching blue outfits watching in anticipation.

Five...

My tears and heart beat combined sounded like the ocean thrumming in my ears and Spencer chuckled nervously and stared down at his flip flops.

Four...

Almost...

Three...

Almost right at my future, the rest of my life.

Two...

Jesus just get to one!

One...

I nearly froze from fear but pushed the ice pick into the balloon, and a sprinkle of pink fell over me. I screamed, my heart soared and I jumped onto Spencer with joy and people clapped an cheered. My mom screamed, literally sobbing as she fell to her knees.

A girl. A girl, to love, and care for, and teach. I wouldn't have cared, either way I wasn't worried but I had always wanted a baby. To have a girl. To love a daughter was truly a gift.

Spencer stood stalk still, like he was a statue and he a terrified grin crossed his face. I saw Rossi nod as Derek chuckled. There was a man holding up a sign, right in front of us with a giant '2' written in pink. Right in front of Spencer, no matter he saw it first.

"Uh oh, Dad's looking a bit- oh my god, oh my god!" And Spencer was flying backwards into Hotch and Rossi.

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"Oh, you can see him start to look a bit pale right there." Penelope narrated to his mother, who they were showing the video too on face time. Spencer was now sitting up right on the living room couch and sipping a ginger ale with trembling hands.

Spencer Reid was having twins. Could his life get any better? What did he ever do to deserve this much happiness? His head hurt just a bit, mainly from when he slipped off the couch after being set down and cracking his head on the floor but this was really happening. It was real.

Suddenly he felt a familiar presence. There she was holding two of his children inside of her and staring up at him with the most gorgeous eyes. She was gorgeous, even more so with the knowledge he had now, and he didn't even know it was possible.

He couldn't help himself, the tears filling his eyes as his mother and Penelope suddenly ended the call and she excused herself gracefully (the internet in the home was shitty, so she'd probably be calling back within the hour) and now he felt tears rushing down his face. She smiled at him, so softly that he couldn't even speak.

"I love you." She whispered as she drew her face closer to his and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

"I love you too. And I love them." The words whispered, just for the two of them.

Well. The four of them.

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The end! I cried a lot during this for no reason lol. I literally bawled my eyes out, I'm suffering from massive baby fever. Anyways, I hope you all like this one <3

[aliaology]

SO AMERICAN (short)

SUMMARY: in which holtzy and you are dating, and you are very much in love with him

PAIRINGS: alexander holtz x fem!hughes!reader

WARNINGS: none just fluff :)

driving on the, right side road. he says im pretty, wearing his clothes. and hes got hands that, make hell seem cold. feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem i wish i wrote. i wish i wrote.

you were the prime example of ‘passenger princess’ but in your very own car. i mean— it wasn’t necessarily your fault that you weren’t the best suited to drive in the city. no no— it was jacks because all he did was drive you and luke around.

but your brother was not the one driving. no, it was your boyfriend who was. you also never understood why he loved to drive your car. but the actual reason was because it was so… you. and he loved that.

your feet were propped on the dashboard, notebook and pen in your lap and hand as you mindlessly scribbled words together. alex’s hand was on your thigh, the warmth from his hand spreading throughout your body like a wildfire.

his fingers traced lightly on your bare thighs, pinky almost sliding up and hitting your shorts with every move he made. the bumps in the road made it so his hand would lightly hit your skin.

your eyes were averted to the pen and paper as you eagerly wrote down word after word, his hand squeezing your thigh every few minutes.

as he squeezed your thigh one more time, you looked over to him. he was the epitome of a love poem and you wished you were the one to write it. with a soft smile on your face, you leaned closer to him and placed your lips onto his cheek.

and he laughs at all my jokes, and he says im so american! oh god, its just not fair of him to make me feel this much. go anywhere he goes, and he says im so american! oh god, im gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. i might just be in la-la-la-la-love.

you two were at a restaurant, smiling at each other. you spoke, hushed and quietly, almost with embarrassment. your words caused him to burst with laughter, hand slapping over his mouth as his shoulders shook.

his reaction caused you to giggle, a bright smile on your face. the smile would quickly turn to one of embarrassment when you ask a waitress for a meal— one that you have trouble pronouncing. and he laughs as the waitress leaves.

you had a frown on your face— not one of sadness but one of ‘are you kidding me?’

alex snorted as he spoke, “you are so american.”

feigning a look of offense, your eyes narrowed slightly, giving a look of hurt. this just caused alex to chuckle more before grabbing your hand and pressing a small kiss to it.

“how about we just get out of here instead? i think i’d very much rather eat in.” he suggested.

and so you went wherever he did. you ditched the restaurant. you ditched the fancy dinner, and you went home. when you got home; you both eagerly sat on the couch and just watched a movie.

god im so boring, and im so rude! cant have a conversation if its not all about you. the way you dress and, the books you read. i really love my bed but man its hard to sleep when he’s with me. when he’s with me…!

you sat with your friends, picking at your nails as they spoke. their conversation being something about style— something about clothes. you weren’t too interested, you weren’t even talking.

“anything to add, y/n?” one asked.

you shrugged. “i don’t know— style wise i really like alex’s and maybe i’m just biased but it seems super comfy. shockingly he also has a great taste in books and—“

“girl all you do is take about your man!” your friend cut you off.

another friend piped up, “can’t say i blame her. i mean we’ve been friends for what? seven years? in that time frame shes had one boyfriend and he kinda sucked. if i had a man treat me the way hers does, i’d be plastering that everywhere.”

your last friend shrugged. “i get it— honestly i want to hear more about this guy. she talks about him but its never enough because someone interrupts her.”

“its fine— all you really need to know about him is that he treats me very well, and i love him.”

after your little get together with your friends, you made your way to your apartment. the sun was setting and you wanted to lay in bed. but as soon as you got home, locked up and went to your room and saw your boyfriend, you knew for a fact you wouldn’t be going to sleep.

i apologize if its a little too much, just a little too soon. but if the conversation ever were to come up i don’t wanna assume this stuff. but aint it rough? think im in love!

[tiredfox64]

I HAVE BEEN HIT WITH A VISION FROM THE ELDER GODS!

You can see from miles away that Bi Han is touch starved as hellll, im talking STARVING.... so I honestly see that man just feeling turned on from simple kisses. Like, 1 min of kisses, BAM, ready to go! I feel like that intimacy may get him going, since thats a rare thing in his life

This isn't a request for a fic ( unless you want it to be 👀 ) but I am obsessed with Bi Han and I just realised this while drinking my coffee this morning

Just Some Kisses

Prior notes: I fuck with your vision! So I did something short cause how could I not work with that even though this was not originally a request.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Suggestive hehe

You were feeling extra lovey today. Just the sight of your boyfriend made you all giggly and your heart warm up like a cast iron on a hot Arizona day in July. Okay, maybe not that hot but you get the picture. Fresh baked cookies kind of warm. Yeah, that’s better.

You were practically skipping over to Bi-Han’s office where you strolled in all innocently. He didn’t look up but he knew it was you walking in. Usually you would sit next to him or anywhere else in his office when you came to spend time with him. Nope. Today was different. Your seat would be Bi-Han himself.

You came closer to Bi-Han and started straddling his lap. You caught him by surprise. This was the first time you ever did this. He’s not complaining surprisingly.

He was about to question you until he felt your lips on his face. All over his face actually. You were leaving kisses wherever you could as you held his face in a loving manner. His cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, even neck. You didn’t see it but Bi-Han was starting to blush. Awww he likes it.

He didn’t know what to do with his hand. No one has ever done this to him or given him this much attention. His hands were gripping the arms of his chair while you were kissing his neck. You heard him make a low growling noise that you took as a sign of delight. You were right but he was also struggling to contain himself.

When you started making out with him that was the hardest part for Bi-Han. Feeling your soft lips against his was pleasurable torture especially once you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Your hands were feeling him up. One hand was sliding down his chest while the other went to his hair, letting his hair down from its once tight bun. Damn! This felt too fantastic for him. Your fingers running through his hair was the final nail in the coffin. You felt his hands grab onto you and squeezed you gently. He let out a groan before tearing his face away from you.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You asked innocently.

Oh you sure did do something.

Bi-Han pushed you down on his lap more and you finally felt his hard on. How the heck did you miss his bulge?! You saw how embarrassed Bi-Han was. He was all hot and bothered, not very used to being kissed, touched, and loved this much. You didn’t even mean to get him started like this. The man was really struggling to hold himself back. He froze the arms of the chair trying to contain himself. But now that you know…ah fuck it!

With one arm he picked you up while the other arm swept his desk clean of anything. Every paper and writing utensil fell to the ground. He placed you on his desk, pressing himself against you. Now you’re the priority. The work can wait, he can’t. He’s all horned up and ready to go! Don’t make him wait any longer after you teased him like that.

You didn’t even mean it but okay, go off I guess.

Well, hope you have fun—oh my gosh

Oh damn is he gonna pay to fix your clothes?

Wow, i didn’t know you were that flexible!

I’ve never seen that position before WHEN DID HE LEARN THAT?!

You two are making a lot of noise…oh…he wants that…cool.

The desk is squeaking HAVE SOME MERCY!

Woah! Alright! That’s a lot that came out!

You uh…you need a tissue? Or some Bounty paper towels? A towel actually?

He definitely was touched starved, ohhh mighty.

After notes: You spat this vision out at me. I’m more of a tea vision kind of person but coffee visions work too.