#it just moves them down your list and laughs in your fucking face

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: f1 driver!anakin skywalker x journalist!reader

SMUT ❦

The garage was nearly empty, just humming with the distant whir of machinery cooling down. Not so far away, a loud mix of voices talking and laughing followed the building. He’s just won; not for the first time in the season, but surely for the first time on this forsaken road someone decided it'd be great in a rainy weather. ANAKIN SKYWALKER was flushed, disheveled, dangerous—and you barely get a word out before he had gotten you backed against the wall of his trailer. The suit’s was half-peeled off (the desire to have you was too strong to undress fully), revealing toned skin and a cocky grin you wanted to slap off his face—right up until he was kissing you, all teeth, all heat, hands already under your skirt, playing with the plump twins on your chest. His fingers squeezed around them, dragging out a moan out of your throat.

“Still think I’m reckless?” he murmured lowly, hot breath hitting against your ear.

You gasped, hips arching up as he pushed in slow: definitelly too slow, every inch of him dragging through you like he wanted to savor it. Like he wanted you to remember it every time you will try to walk.

Your hands moved over his arms, letting your nails dig into his toned shoulders. His hips moved so deliciously your eyes squeezed shut, lips parting with a moan you couldn’t bite back.

“You gonna write about this, sweetheart?”

“Tell the world how their champion fucked the words right outta your pretty mouth?” His thrusts get deeper, unhurried, precise; like he was meant to prove something. Letting his cock stuff you full, the wet sound of you milking him filled the room. You whimpered at how obscene it was, back arching, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer and a curse all at once. “Gonna give you a quote for your little article, baby—‘Anakin Skywalker: fastest on the track, slowest in your cunt.’”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyles @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake @skywalkerssgirl @fredswrite @mvst4far @alealuvshayden @kandralice

[starkeymeow]

❛ we make each other alive . .

does it matter if it hurts? ❜

I’M COMING, WAIT FOR ME.

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTENT chapter ten, best read in dark mode, rafe cameron x reader au, reunion with kie and jj, erm KIE DIES sorry, pack mutts, blood, death, me giving the characters no time to process anything LOL no time to waste, me also showing jj and kie’s relationship a bit more, rafe lowk likes y/n

main masterlist | series ml | tag list | previous next

you and rafe move slowly through the forest. you’re not talking much, just walking, listening. when you do talk, it’s something you usually laugh at. you’re not sure if you’re looking for food or people. maybe both.

“we fought pretty well together, yesterday,” rafe says suddenly like he’s just now thinking it.

you glance over at him. his face is still bruised and he’s walking with a bit of a limp, but he’s got that same confident tilt to his head, like he’s pretending none of it hurts anymore.

you tug a leaf off your jacket sleeve and mutter, “could’ve been better.”

“could’ve been worse,” he counters, stepping over a thick root. “i mean, we’re still alive.”

you shrug, but there’s the hint of a smile on your face. “you took most of the hits.”

rafe huffs, dramatic. “don’t remind me.”

you laugh under your breath as you duck under a low branch. the painkillers helped, at least for a while. they dulled the edge enough that you could sleep without flinching every time you moved. it was a small kind of mercy.

“we just . . . went too hard too fast,” he says. “should’ve had a plan.”

you sigh. “you mean i should’ve had a plan. you were too busy getting kicked in the ribs.”

he snorts, but then he glances at you more seriously. “you were good, though. you were quick. it worked.”

you feel your mouth twitch. “maybe we need something smarter.”

“right,” rafe mutters, nodding. “like maybe this time, you should be the one getting everyone’s attention, and i can be the surprise.”

you glance at him again. “what, like bait?”

“like a distraction.” he shrugs, teasing, still walking. “you’re pretty. they’ll look at you first.”

you laugh once, but then you stop walking.

rafe notices a few steps ahead, turning around. “or—”

“no, that could work,” you say, thoughtful now. your eyes drift to the side as you think aloud. “if i make noise or show up first, they’ll come to me. if they’re cocky, they’ll think it’s an easy takedown. but then you’re waiting.”

rafe stares at you. “. . . i was kidding.”

you look up at him. “but it’s smart.”

he frowns, almost defensive. “you want to be the one people target?”

“i already am sometimes,” you say. “i’m shorter, younger. people either think i’m fragile or stupid or both. that’s what they see first. that’s the trap.”

you see the way he stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“you literally got an eleven in the private sessions. no one’s targeting you.”

you step forward, bumping his shoulder. “what? you don’t like that plan?”

“no, i just . . .” rafe sighs, runs a hand down his face. “you’re right. it is smart. i just don’t like the part where someone tries to fucking kill you.”

“then be faster than them,” you say, grinning. “plus, i can handle myself? how do you think i got that eleven, anyway?”

rafe looks at you, and then he shakes his head. “you’re an idiot, we can try that out though.”

you’re about to say something else, maybe joke again about your new role as tribute bait, when you see it. it’s faint at first. just a wisp, a thin trail of gray curling up through the canopy. it’s smoke.

you stop in your tracks. rafe halts beside you. you both stare. it’s not much yet but it’s too defined to be fog, too slow and rising to be steam. it’s unmistakably fire smoke.

you look up at the sun, still climbing the sky. not even noon. “who the hell lights a fire this early in the day?” you murmur.

rafe doesn’t answer. his eyes stay on the smoke, squinting slightly. you can’t really see what’s burning. it’s stupid, reckless. it screams trap, but it could also scream something else: someone got comfortable.

you glance at him to see what he’s thinking, but he’s already looking down at you. his lips twitch like he’s trying to fight off a grin.

“what?” you ask.

he shrugs, then nods toward the smoke. “you wanna go play bait?”

you huff out a breath, but your heart’s already beating faster, “do you wanna run into an axe again?”

his smile grows. “not really.” you laugh.

you take off first, but rafe follows close, matching your pace. your blood’s humming. the smoke gets darker the closer you get, and there’s something about how bold it is, how careless, that makes your skin itch, and then there’s laughter—yours first, then his.

it’s a terrible sound.

it’s not joyful, not even amused. it’s manic, feral, the kind of laughter that slips through when you’ve been pushed too far and the edge starts to feel like the most stable place to stand. it might be adrenaline, or grief, or both.

you dodge a low branch, leap over a fallen trunk. rafe nearly slips on a slope of wet dirt and laughs even harder.

then your steps slow. instinct kicks in. you hold up a hand, and rafe mirrors you, falling into step right behind as you crouch and creep forward. the flames come into view first. it’s a weak fire, barely controlled. it’s not going to last long.

but that’s not what stops you in your tracks. it’s the voices.

“holy shit, kie!”

jj’s voice is frantic. you hear the slap of palm against fabric. a rapid-fire patting, followed by dying embers.

you freeze behind a tree. rafe’s body is close behind yours, one hand gripping the trunk just above your shoulder. he leans forward slightly, head tilted so he can see too, and you both stare.

it’s not a trap. it’s them.

jj is half crouched, stomping out the last edge of the fire he clearly didn’t mean to make that big. his face is scraped, his hair wild, but he’s alive.

and kie’s standing not far off, but even saying that she’s standing is being generous. she’s barely upright, one leg shaking, face pale as hell.

you don’t even glance at rafe. you just move. you’re gone from behind the tree before you consciously think to run. “are you guys fucking insane?” you hiss under your breath as you break through the smoke.

jj jumps so hard he nearly trips over the smoldering fire. kie gasps, hands going up before she even registers it’s you. relief hits them so fast it’s like someone dumps water over their heads.

“y/n,” kie breathes.

“holy shit,” jj echoes, again, though this time it sounds more like praise than panic. he’s panting, eyes wide, the dirt on his face streaked with sweat. “you scared the hell out of me.”

“you scared us!” you snap, but your hands are already on kie’s arm, gently lowering her onto a flat rock nearby. “what the hell were you thinking lighting a fire this high in the day? are you fucking stupid?”

kie groans softly. “i couldn’t— i can’t walk well. we needed heat. we didn’t think it’d spread like that.”

“clearly.” you glance at her knee and flinch. it’s swollen and red, dried blood crusted on the edge of the pants she tore open. you rip open your pack without thinking. “you’re lucky no one else found you.”

“uh,” jj says behind you. rafe’s standing directly in front of him, just looking at him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. like he’s trying to decide if he should punch him, hug him, or both. “what?” jj raises his hands slightly. “you gonna say something or just stand there judgin’ me?”

“you look like shit,” rafe says flatly.

jj scoffs, offended. “thanks.”

“not a compliment.”

you lean forward with your elbows on your knees, eyes scanning the woods, though your ears are locked in on them now. jj and kie are sitting just a few feet across from you and rafe.

you start to hint toward his death when topper’s mentioned in a brief moment, “so, did you guys . . .”

“we saw topper’s picture the night it happened,” kie says first, voice quiet like it still hurts to say aloud. “was it with you guys?”

you nod. “we were running from a mutt. it got him.”

rafe doesn’t add anything. he’s quiet beside you, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent with an arm slung over it. the bruises on his jaw still peek out under his jacket collar when he shifts. he’s healing, but not fast enough.

“what kind of mutt?” jj asks, cautious. he needs to see if you guys saw the same thing.

you look over at rafe, meet his eyes for a second, then say, “big, looked like a komodo dragon, but . . . wrong? its skin was patchy, like someone stitched it together. it had too many eyes and legs that didn’t even match the body. like . . .” you pause, jaw flexing. “human limbs. twisted. didn’t move like anything that should be alive. and it was fast. nearly got me if rafe hadn’t been there.”

jj swallows. kie looks like she’s holding back bile.

“and it made this clicking noise,” you add, your voice quieter. “like bone against bone.”

“we haven’t seen that,” jj mutters. “thank god.”

“but we’ve seen something different,” kie cuts in, leaning forward slightly. her hand hovers near her thigh like it’s instinct to protect it. “smaller. not as showy, but there were more of them. they hunted in a group.”

“they kinda looked like coyotes,” jj adds, nodding slowly, like he’s trying to piece it together again as he speaks. “but all their limbs were too long. like they were stretched out. and their fur was, i don’t know, patchy. and oily. smelled like wet iron.”

“and their jaws don’t shut all the way,” kie says, lifting her hand now to mimic the way they moved. “it’s like their mouths are permanently open. but instead of barking or growling, they whistle. i started thinking that that’s how they communicate.”

your skin crawls just imagining it. rafe exhales beside you and mutters something under his breath about the gamemakers losing their minds.

“they got kie pretty good,” jj says next, eyes narrowing a bit. “ripped open some of her old wounds.”

kie sighs like she hates having attention on it, but still shifts her leg to the side, carefully unwrapping a piece of gauze that’s already half-stuck to her skin with blood. it’s the gash from the ambush a few days ago. it doesn’t look fresh, but the edges are pink and raw, and the bandaging is stained rusty. it’s not nothing.

you flinch slightly. “yikes.”

“it’s not that bad,” kie says, but her voice is thin. “i got a sponsor right after it opened up again. like bam, there it was. some ointment for infection and healing. it came down fast, almost like they felt bad for me or something.”

there’s something strange about how she says it, awe and bitterness twisted together.

“it’s amazing what they can do,” she continues, her fingers smoothing the clean part of the gauze before she starts to rewrap. “how quick they are when they want to be.”

you glance at rafe and catch the faintest twitch of a smile on his face. and you smirk quietly too because yeah, you both know the feeling.

“this is great and all, but remember that there should only be three others left, guys,” rafe says. he’s crouched down now, back straight, eyes focused somewhere over jj’s shoulder, like he’s drawing a mental map of the arena in his head. “aside from us. seven total. four of us, three of them.”

you glance at him, brows pinched.

“we don’t know who they are,” rafe goes on. “and that means we have to assume the worst. they could be a team. they could be tracking us right now. hell, they could’ve been watching you two light the fire earlier.”

he doesn’t look at kie when he says it, not directly. but it’s there. in the pause. in the slant of his eyes. in the way his shoulders stiffen just slightly as he says, “we can’t afford to be sloppy again.”

kie shifts, jaw tightening. you can see the way her mouth twitches, how fast the reaction wants to come out yet how fast she bites it back.

“are you trying to say something?” she finally asks, blinking. “or what?”

rafe turns his head just slightly. “you’re limping, kie,” he says. “and jj’s the only reason you’re still walking, which means he’s watching your back more than his own. it’s practically two of us against three of them. n’ if they’re smart? they know we’re already down a number.”

she folds her arms tight over her chest, like they’re the only thing keeping her from exploding. “so what, i’m just dead weight to you?”

rafe blinks. there’s not even a hint of apology in his face. “i’m saying you’re hurt. and if you weren’t so caught up in being offended, you’d realize that means we have to play smarter. either jj sticks with you, or—”

“or what?” she cuts in, voice rising. “you ditch me?”

he exhales through his nose, not even flinching. “or we go down because you slowed us all up.”

you’re looking between them now, jaw locked, hands clenched into fists at your sides. jj’s silent, but you can feel the frustration radiating off him. he’s not defending kie, not because he doesn’t want to, but because deep down, he knows rafe’s technically right.

with the fire, there was the noise and the panic. if you and rafe hadn’t been the ones to find them . . .

“jj’s leg was on fire, kie,” he says. “whether you guys meant to or not, you think the others wouldn’t have heard the yelling? seen the smoke? they’ll come looking. if it wasn’t us, you’d be dead already.”

kie just glares, arms crossed so tight they’re nearly shaking. her mouth opens once, twice, but nothing comes out.

“we didn’t ask you to save us,” she spits finally. “we would’ve figured it out.”

“would you have?”

silence again.

you try to be the one to be there to step in between in case you need to, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to push harder. he said what he had to say. and now he’s just watching.

kie doesn’t back down, but she doesn’t argue more either. she just stares at him like she wants to.

jj finally breaks his silence, muttering low, “we’ll keep up. don’t worry.”

you nod once, quiet. you believe him, but the worry’s already there. rafe was right—it looks like a two and a half against three at this point.

jj scoots closer toward kie, muttering something under his breath, trying to settle her down, but she doesn’t look away from rafe.

rafe doesn’t say anything else. he just gets up. he doesn���t make a show of it either, doesn’t huff or roll his eyes or even glance back. he bends slightly to grab one of their water containers, checks the cap with a flick of his thumb, then starts walking toward a slope a few yards away where a low creek snakes through the undergrowth.

your gaze is somewhere far off, unfocused. your mind is too. you rub the back of your neck, the skin hot, then let your fingers drag down your face. and then you’re on your feet too. you follow him.

rafe doesn’t turn around, but he hears you. he slows a little without making it obvious to let you catch up. you fall into step beside him and peek at his face. his mouth is set, jaw tight. not angry, just braced. like he knew the blowback would come and decided to lean into it anyway.

“you didn’t have to say it like that,” you say gently.

he lifts a brow, doesn’t look at you. “say what?”

“you know what.”

there’s a pause. he exhales slowly, shifting the canteen in his hand. “but i’m not wrong.”

“no,” you agree. “you’re not.”

another pause. the creek’s close now, and you can hear it trickling just ahead.

“she’s probably just pissed because . . .” you trail, “you made it sound like she’s dragging us all down instead of being part of this.”

“she is part of this,” rafe says, sharper this time, finally glancing at you. “but pretending like she’s not hurt doesn’t help anyone. if someone’s gonna get killed because she can’t keep up, i’d rather we talk about it now than deal with it when it’s too late.”

you hold his gaze. there’s something hardened in his eyes, yeah, but there’s worry under it too.

you sigh. “i know. i do too. i’m not saying you were wrong. just . . .” you shrug. “maybe we don’t have to set her on fire the same day she nearly actually caught on fire, you know?”

that gets the faintest twitch of a smile from him. it’s barely there but still. “right,” he murmurs.

you both slow as you reach the creek. rafe crouches down, unscrews the cap, dips the container into the water. you crouch beside him.

“i think they’ll be okay,” you say softly. “jj’s still got it in him. and kie’s not like . . . i don’t know, she’s not useless. she just needs to feel like she matters right now. like she’s not just a liability.”

rafe doesn’t answer right away. he watches the water rise in the canteen, then caps it and shakes off the excess droplets.

“i don’t care if she hates me,” he says after a moment. “i care if she gets you killed.”

your chest aches a little at that. not because it hurts, but because it means something. you don’t say anything. just nudge his arm with your elbow gently, enough to say i know.

he looks at you again. and this time, the edge is gone. there’s just understanding. you can tell he’s tired, but there’s a hint of something almost tender.

“c’mon,” you whisper, standing up. the two of you start walking again. “so there’s seven people left,” you say, mostly to yourself, but rafe hears it anyway.

your boots crunch over the dried leaves as you move through the trees. it’s warmer than it was this morning. the sky’s so bright it almost doesn’t feel real.

he doesn’t say anything right away, one hand loosely resting near the knife at his hip.

you exhale, slow. “i knew i could get this far,” you admit, “but actually being here . . . i don’t know. it’s weird.”

rafe glances at you sideways. “yeah?”

you nod, rubbing your hands together to keep them busy. “it’s like, surreal, knowing that you’re one of the last people left. it messes with your head. i’m like, excited, nervous, anxious. i’m probably feeling it all too early and then i’m gonna fuck it all up.”

he lets out a quiet hum of agreement.

you kick a rock with the toe of your boot. “i wonder what my parents are thinking right now. if they’re watching every second or if they have to look away when it’s me on the screen. do you think about that?”

rafe’s quiet for a beat.

“mine are definitely watching,” he says finally, voice flat. “they’re probably arguing about it, rose telling my dad to shut up and stop pacing. my dad would probably gonna get mad if people didn’t bet more on me.”

you look over at him. he doesn’t meet your eyes, just squints into the distance.

“do you think the capitol likes us?” you ask softly.

he shrugs. “we’re still alive, aren’t we?”

“yeah, but,” you trail off. “that’s not the same.”

he sighs, running a hand over the back of his neck. “i think they like you,” he says eventually.

your brows lift. “me?”

rafe looks at you now, really looks at you. “yeah. you’ve got that hero edit shit going for you.”

you snort. “hero edit?”

he grins a little, crooked. “yeah. you look good when you’re bleeding and killing people. makes for good tv.”

you laugh under your breath, brushing a branch out of your way. “what about you?”

he shrugs again, but this one’s more casual. “they like me enough. probably made me the stoic or something. the one that no one’s sure about.”

“that’s not a bad thing.”

“no,” he agrees. “but it’s not always good either.”

you walk in silence for a few steps. birds rustle somewhere high above, wings flapping.

“we’re really down to seven,” you whisper again.

he nods. “soon to be four.”

you glance at him, and even though he’s staring ahead you know he’s thinking the same thing you are. soon to be four. you, him, kie, and jj unless someone fucks it up.

you swallow hard. your hand brushes his as you walk. neither of you pulls away.

“you think we can actually do this?” you ask, quieter now.

he doesn’t hesitate. “yeah,” rafe says. “we can.”

and somehow, you believe him.

our fingers loop a piece of thin cord through a split branch, while kie tugs on a nearby root to use as tension.

“after we split, we found this hollowed-out ravine. took cover there for the night,” she’d been telling you. “we didn’t stop for long though. those mutts came back. the, uh . . . pack i was telling you about.” she mutters the last part like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth. “not even an hour of peace before they were swarming again.”

you glance at her, but she doesn’t look back.

“we ran. again.” she gives a half-hearted shrug. “they scratched jj up pretty bad. and my leg, well, you saw that.” she shifts her weight onto her good foot and grimaces slightly, but doesn’t stop working. “still surprised we made it out without worse.”

you nod slowly, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “at least you did.”

“barely,” she scoffs, and wipes her hands on her pants. “you see anything new out there? anything else we should be watching for?”

you pause. your hands are halfway through tying two sharpened sticks into a hinge for the trap, but your mind shifts back. your eyes flick up for a second, then drop back to your work as you answer.

“yeah,” you say, a little hesitant. “roses, i guess.”

kie blinks. “what?”

you nod slowly, tightening the knot. “i didn’t think much of it at first. just thought they were weird but,” you glance up briefly, then back down, “me and rafe, yesterday, we caught a rabbit for lunch. but it wasn’t moving right. it wasn’t scared of us, didn’t even flinch when we stepped near it. just laid there.”

kie furrows her brow.

“it was in this part of the woods nearby where a bunch of roses were just laid out here and there like decoration,” you continue, “and then later we found this girl, like another tribute. i checked the back of her neck where a few of them were just lodged in her skin, and . . . she couldn’t move. barely blinked. i dont know, i’ll show you tomorrow.”

you finish the knot, pull it taut.

“i think it’s a paralytic or something. whatever’s in those roses.” your voice drops quieter. “i don’t know how it works exactly, if it’s when you touch it or if it just builds up. but it’s real.”

kie whistles low. “sick bastards,” she mutters, then rubs her forehead. “great. add ‘don’t sniff flowers’ to the survival checklist.”

you huff a laugh, even if it’s short-lived. the tension hasn’t gone anywhere. and neither have the boys.

kie sighs as she straightens up, brushing dust from her hands and scanning the trees. “how long does it take to catch a damn squirrel?”

you glance toward the direction they left from too, lips twitching. “think they’re hunting or avoiding us?”

“if it’s both, they better come back with two squirrels.” she grumbles and shakes her head. “unbelievable. we’re out here saving everyone’s lives, and they get to play with weapons.”

you snort and crouch back down to prep the next trap. in a way you’re quietly grateful for the company, for the small moments, for the rare laugh. because even though this isn’t over, not by a long shot, there’s still something about sitting in the woods with kie, bruised and blistered but alive, that makes surviving feel just a little more bearable.

you lean back on your heels as the second snare tightens, wood creaking just slightly as it locks into place. you test the pressure. you tug once, then again, and nod, satisfied. when you glance over, kie’s checking the first trap again, brows drawn together like it’s a test she has to ace. there’s something rhythmic about the way she moves, like she’s done it a thousand times before.

you tilt your head and ask, “so have you always been good at this?”

she flicks her eyes up at you, one brow lifting.

“traps and stuff, i mean,” you clarify, pulling your hands into your lap. “were you a fisher? ‘cause you’re from four, right?”

“born and raised,” she says, relaxing a little, her voice softening. “and yeah. pretty much grew up on the water. my parents taught me everything with fishing, tying lines, mending nets, baiting traps. i was practically rigging snares before i could write my own name.”

you smile at that. it fits her, somehow.

“they were both fishers?”

“yeah. some days we’d be out before the sunrise.” her eyes flick to the sky for a second like she can still see it. “it’s hard work, but i loved it. still do. if i win, i’d still keep doin’ that with ‘em.”

you don’t miss the fond curve of her mouth, the way her shoulders ease just slightly.

“they must be watching,” you say, voice quieter now. “bet they’re proud.”

kie nods. “i think about that a lot,” she admits. “like, if they’re screaming at the screen or covering their eyes. if my mom’s crying. if my dad’s yelling at the tv at home like that’s gonna change anything.” she laughs a little under her breath. “they’re definitely rooting for me, though. i know that.”

you smile softly, then look down at your hands before asking, “and you and jj knew each other before the reaping?”

“kind of,” she says, brushing some dirt from her palms. “we met in school. had mutual friends, same classes, that kind of thing. we weren’t close or anything. but he was loud. and he was always, always joking.”

“sounds familiar,” you say with a small smirk.

kie snorts. “yeah, but we didn’t really start talking until we got stuck in here. and now?” she glances over her shoulder, toward where jj and rafe had wandered off. “i’ve got his back, he’s got mine.”

you nod once, absorbing it. “you’re lucky,” you say.

“yeah,” she replies. “i know.”

kie stretches her legs out in front of her and leans back on her hands, giving you a small, pointed glance. “okay, but what about you and rafe?” she asks, all casual curiosity with the slightest grin tugging at her mouth. “you guys seem really close.”

you pause, fingers reaching to tighten the knot on the last snare just to keep your hands busy. your hands slow, and you glance down at the thread of bark in your grip. “i mean,” you start, “i’ve known of him. not really him, though. does that make sense?”

kie hums like she’s waiting for you to say more, so you do.

“like we’re both from two, but we live on opposite sides. it’s kind of a split district. different zones, you know? i only ever saw him at the academy when we were younger for training.”

kie raises a brow. “so is it, like, tradition for all district two kids to be training that early?”

you shrug. “mostly everyone in two does, whether they want to or not. some are let off, most go because they want to. but yeah, he trained hard. was always focused. i stayed away mostly. tried not to get too close to the peacekeeper families even though i come from one too.” you look up briefly, meeting her eyes. “before the games he told me his dad’s a high-ranking officer, one of the top ones. it kind of made sense.”

kie whistles low, eyebrows lifting. “that explains a lot.”

you smile faintly but don’t deny it. then there’s a pause. you shift back from the trap, brushing your hands off on your pants. “and i think he knew who i was too.”

kie turns to face you, curious.

“like, at the reaping, he didn’t need an introduction. it was like he already recognized me. so maybe he’s seen me around more than i thought. or maybe he doesn’t know me at all and he’s just good at hiding it. i don’t really know.”

kie’s silent for a moment, then shrugs. “you could always ask.”

you huff a small laugh. “i could.”

but you don’t sound too sure you will.

“the guys are gonna get back soon.”

you’re on your feet before you fully register kie asking, like something about kindling, or maybe the flint she buried earlier by the log. you hum in response and rise, already halfway turned toward the tree line where you think she left it.

“gotta get that fire going,” you murmur to yourself as you crunch over fallen twigs and loose leaves.

but then there’s a yell that cracks through the quiet. it’s distant, but not that distant. you freeze. completely still.

your breath catches in your throat as the noise fractures the silence, followed by a rush of sound. there’s something barreling through the forest. it’s heavy, too fast to just be a person. it’s not like when jj trips through the woods and curses about it. this sounds like thunder, like hooves and claws and bones cracking under pressure, leaves shaking loose from branches.

your eyes shoot west.

it’s too dark to see anything clearly, just the suggestion of movement in the gaps between the trees. something brushing hard past bark. and it’s not one direction either. it’s . . . everywhere, like the forest itself is coming undone. like something that far is playing tricks in your head about where it’s really coming from.

“no,” you whisper, voice trembling as your hand slowly reaches behind you, searching for kie’s arm without breaking your gaze. “no, no, no, no.”

kie goes stiff behind you. you feel her straighten, catch her sharp inhale. she doesn’t speak, probably because the sound is getting louder, and it’s impossible to tell how far away it is. like now it feels close. it feels like something’s hunting and not trying very hard to be quiet about it.

you know kie can’t run, not well. not with her leg like this. the thought alone turns your stomach into a pit of nerves.

your hand hovers near your belt, fingers finding the familiar curve of your dagger’s hilt. you grip it even as you keep the rest of you still, breathing shallow. you don’t want to make a sound. don’t want to—

to your left.

you yelp, stumbling back a step as your head whips toward the noise. before you can even draw the dagger, a figure barrels out of the dark.

you don’t see a face, at least not at first. all you see is motion, like limbs flailing, arms pumping, a look of blind panic etched into whatever blur of expression this guy has as he slams into you, hard. the impact sends you both flying backward, your back slamming into the dirt and sliding with the force, dry leaves scraping against your skin and getting tangled in your hair.

you hit the ground so fast you don’t even have time to scream. you just feel it. your shoulder knocks against something solid, your dagger ripped from your grip before you could even raise it.

you’re still spinning when you hear kie shout your name in panic, “y/n!”

you try to react, like try to throw your arm up, block whatever’s coming, but it’s a mess of tangled limbs and your attacker’s weight is keeping you pinned. he’s not trying to hurt you, you realize that fast. he’s terrified, panting hard like he’s been running for a while.

you blink, your head snapping back against the ground again as you struggle to get your bearings. the guy’s on top of you, breathing in gasps, shaking so badly it vibrates into your own bones.

that sound hasn’t stopped. it’s still coming.

your fight instinct kicks in like it always does. you twist hard and roll the guy off you with a grunt, your hand flying to your belt, fingers fumbling for your dagger. your heart is pounding in your ears, like it’s trying to drown out the sounds behind you. but it can’t. it can’t mute the noise. but you need to kill him and get to kie.

you don’t even have time to get a full look at him. he’s bloody, barely conscious, his chest heaving as you straddle him. he doesn’t fight you. he’s too exhausted. it’s like he’s already given up.

but you haven’t, especially because you can hear her. you can hear kie.

her voice cracks through the trees like a whip: “jj!!“

your head snaps toward her. but then comes the noise. it’s these awful, guttural, teeth-tearing sounds. there’s another kind after. bones are being crushed. something screaming. someone’s screaming.

is that—?

no.

your gut sinks like a stone as your body freezes. it hits you all at once. kie’s practically left out in the open because this guy tackled you, and now she’s paying the price.

you hear it before you see it. paws pound the ground like hammers. your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see one of them charging at you like a bullet with teeth. you don’t think, you just react.

you grab the guy’s shoulders and shove him to the side with all the force your body can give, rolling the both of you, repositioning until your body hits the ground and his is on top, and then it hits.

the mutt’s jaws clamp down on him first.

there’s no scream at first, just a brutal crunch, then a howl’s yanked from the guys throat as the mutt drags him back. you see the blood spray across the ground like it’s nothing, a slick of it across your arm as you stare, numb, horrified, breath caught in your lungs.

you don’t argue with fate.

you scramble up the second he’s gone, your feet sliding on the dirt as you shove yourself to your feet, and your legs move before your mind does. you’re sprinting away, but your eyes flick toward camp, or what's left of it.

kie is screaming. no, was screaming. now it’s just gurgled cries, half-swallowed. you catch one glimpse of her. she’s blood-slick, reaching, her mouth open but soundless as something claws at her back, another already dragging her leg. you don’t see rafe or jj anywhere. your stomach turns.

you should go to her. you should. but it’s already too late. you can’t die here, and you won’t.

you keep running and you don’t look back because you know exactly what you’d see.

“kie!” jj’s voice eventually cuts through.

you’re already moving the second you hear him. you push past branches, try not to trip on roots, try to keep your head above the fear that’s dragging you under. you don’t even realize how far you've gone until someone grabs you.

“y/n,” rafe breathes, his hands gripping your arms to steady you, eyes wide and scanning your face like he’s trying to piece something together from it.

you barely process it, just that it's him. you’re not alone anymore. jj’s right behind him, pausing just long enough to look around you, looking for her probably. he’s looking for kie. his brows twist the second he realizes you're alone.

“where is she?” he asks, but he's not really asking. he already knows. he turns, about to run.

“no— wait, jj,” you say quickly, spinning around and catching his arm before he can take off. your fingers dig into his sleeve, heart beating so hard you can feel it in your mouth. “please, you can’t—“

“i can’t what, y/n?” jj snaps. he jerks forward, dragging you a step with him, not caring. “i can’t go to her? she could be dying and you want me to just— what? hide?”

he steps closer, jaw clenched so tight his whole body is shaking with it. “i can’t what?”

“she’s dead,” your voice gives out like you don’t want to admit it, but it rips out of your throat before you can stop it. you try to reach for him again as he pulls away. “she’s dead, jj.”

you’re looking at jj but can’t help but notice the way rafe’s face drops beside you. he must feel awful. one of their last conversations was heated, you’re sure he didn’t want to end it like that. jj looks more mad than anything though. he probably doesn’t want to believe you. a part of you even thinks for a second that he’s about to kill you just for saying that kie’s dead, even if it’s true.

the forest is silent for just half a second before the whistles start. your stomach twists. those must be the ones kie and jj talked about, the ones that the mutts use to communicate. you barely turn your head before rafe’s already grabbing you, one arm locking around your waist, the other reaching out for jj as you do the same, clutching him by the back of his jacket.

you all freeze. you don’t move. you don’t even breathe.

you can’t see anything in the dark, but you hear it. it’s fucking awful. can they smell your fear?

it feels like a lifetime before rafe whispers, “come on.” he’s tugging both of you with him. you don’t hesitate. none of you do.

you run behind him, duck low, weave through the trees, staying close but quiet. everything aches. it hurts so bad you want to scream, but you can’t. you just keep moving until rafe slows, his hand up, signaling for you to drop low behind a thicket.

you all pile into a cramp of brush, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, and you curl in on yourself as rafe stays near the edge, watching. your hands shake as they clutch your knees, and eventually you bury your head between them, trying to block out the sound of breathing that isn’t yours.

you don’t even look at jj, but you can hear him. he’s muttering curses under his breath, biting down on something loud and ugly that’s begging to claw its way out of his chest. you can hear him pacing a little, shuffling, then slamming his fist against the ground before quickly pulling it back with a hiss.

there’s nothing you can say.

because she’s gone now too.

and you couldn’t save her.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed @siyahmoonlight @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @d-daxx @tsumudoll @ogcrashout @jjasmiineee @loverliner @ailimedae @belle101200 @hiimbrina @nomup @ayy1234567 @girxwrp @k4yr14 @amterasuu @theteenagementality @maggscr @hey-you22w @delilah22pbp @hayleynott @silkenthusiasts ++

[novelconcepts]

If I had a nickel for every time I saw a movie on a streaming service, went “oh good, I want to see that!”, and tried to watch it one day to one week later, only to find the fucker is mysteriously not available anywhere

I would have a hearty jar full of BRING BACK PHYSICAL MEDIA YOU FUCKING COWARDS, I AM LOSING MY MIND

[singmyaubade]

the greatest heist

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy

a/n: my bad for taking so long.. enjoy & as always, i apologize if you hate this!

part 1 | part 2

SITTING in the Hospital Wing for the rest of your glamorous night was certainly not on your bucket list for the year.

You couldn't believe that while your friends were most likely on their next shot of Firewhiskey, there you were, sitting with an ice pack on your ankle and a yellow, now turning purple, bruise resting below it.

The scowl on your face couldn’t be more defined before a gentle squeeze on your forearm snapped you out of your angered thoughts.

A sweet, warm James sat beside you, his comforting smile as kind as ever. You gave him a shy smile in return, reluctant to admit that his presence made you feel just a little bit better.

"You know, you don’t have to stay here," You said, voice soft but sincere. "You don’t have to stay out of pity for me while the rest of our friends are probably on their fourth round of Truth or Dare." You snorted, trying to make light of it.

James lightly laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I wanna be here," He replied sweetly, making your heart swell despite yourself. "I mean, I am partly to blame for your injury."

You snickered, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, your vicious twirling of me is definitely what did it."

He yawned dramatically. "Yeah, I’m so strong," He flexed one arm with exaggerated pride, earning a laugh from you as you playfully swatted at him.

"Well, dearie!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, appearing suddenly from the patient beside you. "It seems it’s just a deep bruise—nothing a bit of Bruisewart Balm won’t fix," She stated, handing you the small jar of balm. "I’d recommend taking it easy on your feet for a day or two, but nothing too strenuous."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," You smiled as she nodded and moved on to her next patient.

"And to prevent more bruising," Pomfrey added with a sly smile, "I’d recommend staying away from Mr. Potter over here."

James frowned. "Oh Pops, how you wound me!" He said dramatically, making Pomfrey roll her eyes and walk away.

The tension in the room lifted, but as James turned back to you, the air between you two shifted. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how the dim light of the Hospital Wing made them look even more intense. You felt your heart race in your chest as he cleared his throat.

"Well, it seems like you won’t need to stay overnight," James said, a little too casually, his voice softer than usual. "May I help you hop back to your dorm m'lady?" His hand extended out for you.

You blinked at him, a little surprised at his suggestion. "What a gentleman," You mocked, though your voice was lighthearted as he helped you carefully get to your feet, his hand steady at your waist and the small of your back.

You both started down the hallway, his support a comforting presence as you tried to regain your balance on your injured ankle.

"You know Emma’s going to kill me, right?" You said with a dry chuckle.

James huffed in response, his arm still around you. "She’s really not as deadly as you all make her out to be," he said lightly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I think there’s a reason all the girls in sixth year have stayed away from you, and it isn’t because of your looks or personality."

James laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment in his eyes. "Well, she’s just really protective, you know?" He helped you adjust your step as you hopped slightly, trying to stay balanced. "She cares about me."

You raised an eyebrow. 'Protective doesn’t mean bat-shit crazy,' You thought to yourself.

"But I am sorry for how she’s been treating you," James continued, his voice turning a little more serious. "We broke up over it, you know?"

You didn’t know how to respond. You’d heard they’d had a fight, but you hadn’t realized it had escalated to that point.

"Over me?" you asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah," He nodded, his voice almost sheepish. "I know we haven’t talked much in the last couple of years, but you’ve always meant a lot to me, you know? So, when she gave me that choice—you or her—I thought it was a load of bollocks, but in the end, I think it was what we both needed. To take a step back, I mean."

You felt your stomach twist at his words. You knew their relationship had always been complicated, but hearing it from him like this was not what you had expected.

"And how did she take that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

James’s face softened, but there was a faint trace of sadness in his expression. "She yelled. Cursed me out for a bit, slammed the door, and I haven’t seen her since."

You nodded, processing his words. You hoped to feel happy and to be excited, but you only felt sadness for James. Despite your dislike for Emma, he had seemed to actually enjoy her presence.

And all you ever wanted for James was for him to be happy even if it meant the literal Anti-christ being his girlfriend.

"Well," You said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."

James looked over at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thanks."

The silence stretched between you two as you hobbled along the corridor. You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and something about it made your heart beat a little faster.

"Can I ask you something?" You ventured, glancing up at him.

"Anything," James replied, his voice sincere.

"Why didn’t you ever... you know, talk to me about this before? You’ve been kind of distant, and—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

James gave a small, rueful chuckle. "Guess I was just stupid, huh?" He looked over at you, his expression thoughtful. "I always figured things would work themselves out, and we would get closer in the future. But maybe I was wrong or just scared of Emma." He lightly laughed.

You didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet for a moment, your mind racing. The conversation felt like it was drifting toward a place you weren’t sure you were ready for, but at the same time, a part of you felt like you needed the conversation.

As you approached the Gryffindor Tower entrance, you could see the Fat Lady’s portrait in the distance, and the familiar weight of the evening was starting to settle back into place.

"This is me," You said, trying to keep your tone light as you stopped in front of the portrait.

"Yeah," James replied softly, a bit quieter now like he didn’t want the moment to end. "But, you know, if you ever need anything—"

"I know where to find you," You said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

James looked at you for a long moment, and for just a beat, it felt like everything between you two shifted again. His eyes were intense, but there was something more in them now, something that made your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "You do."

You turned toward the Fat Lady, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. You gave her the password, and as the portrait swung open, you took a last glance at James.

"Night, James," You said, your voice soft.

"Goodnight," he replied, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside.

And for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe there was more to your friendship than you’d ever realized.

--

"He said what?!" Dorcas yelled excitedly, her voice carrying across the otherwise quiet Great Hall. You quickly shushed her, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. It was way too early for this kind of drama.

You had both decided to wake up an hour earlier than all the other girls for two very important reasons: 1) You didn’t trust Emma, and 2) You really didn’t trust Emma.

A few third-years glanced up from their breakfast, clearly curious about the outburst. You snorted, trying to hide your smile as you took another bite of toast.

"And what did you say?" Dorcas asked, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

"Nothing," You muttered, refusing to meet her gaze as you stared off into the distance.

"What do you mean you said nothing?!" She questioned loudly, banging her hand against the table with enough force to rattle your plate.

You grabbed her hands quickly, trying to calm her down. "Stop doing that!" You whispered, sending apologetic glances to the third-years who were now staring openly at you.

"I just mean you had a perfect opportunity to get back at Emma, get Potter on your side, and you said nothing?!" Dorcas exclaimed, her voice rising with the excitement of her accusation.

You sighed, guilt twisting in your stomach. "I can’t do that to him, Dorc," You said quietly.

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly processing your words. There was a flash of realization in her eyes before she grinned, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You like him!"

You felt your face heat up as you rolled your eyes. "I do not."

"You do," She sang, drawing out the words like she was taunting a child.

"I do not," You said firmly, refusing to let her win.

"But you do—"

"I do not!" You interrupted, suddenly shouting, not even bothering to care about the third years who were now openly staring at you.

Dorcas smirked in victory. "Yeah, sure you don’t."

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "This can’t be happening to me. It’s been one day since the plan was made!" You whined, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Dorcas gently pried your hands away from your face, her fingers rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. "You can’t just hold your feelings in. If you like Potter, then so what?" She said gently, trying to comfort you. "Better than that evil witch."

You snorted at that. "I can't, Dorcas. I refuse to like someone who has the craziest ex-girlfriend in all of girlfriend history."

She sighed dramatically, looking at you as if you were the most difficult person in the world. "So what’s your master plan now, huh? Avoid him forever?"

You put on a fake, thoughtful face. "Avoid him," You pondered with a smile. "It’s the only option. Great idea, Dorc!"

Dorcas huffed, shaking her head as she took her hands away from yours. "Yeah, maybe just avoid him," She muttered, clearly not sold on your brilliant plan.

You laughed and stabbed a fork into your eggs. "Exactly."

Before Dorcas could reply, a voice slid in beside her, smooth and familiar. "Isn’t it the prettiest ladies I’ve had the honor of seeing as I awake?" Sirius Black drawled, grinning widely. Dorcas immediately shot him a disgusted look, scooting a few inches away from him.

"What do you want, Black?" You asked, already annoyed before he could even open his mouth again.

"Why do you treat me so horribly when I just want your love?" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as if you had wounded him deeply.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his antics.

"Are all of the Marauders this dramatic?" Dorcas asked, still eyeing Sirius in distaste.

"Believe it or not, yes," You confirmed, just as someone slid into the seat beside you.

"Good morning," James Potter greeted, flashing you that same sweet smile you had trouble getting out of your head.

You immediately felt a flutter in your chest. Your throat seemed to dry up as you turned to look at him. He looked radiant this morning—like the sun itself had decided to take residence in his smile.

You gulped, your brain scrambling for words. You quickly glanced at Dorcas, who gave you a subtle shake of her head, silently telling you not to do anything rash.

"Morning!" you rushed out, way too eager. You quickly gathered your things, mentally panicking. "I actually have to go study in the library for a while, so I’m just gonna go ahead." You stood quickly, trying to make your escape.

James stood up with you, looking at you with those shining eyes. "I can come with," He offered cheerfully, clearly not reading the room at all.

You shook your head rapidly, desperate to escape the conversation. "No, no! I’ll be fine!" you said a little too quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you backed away. "I’ll just see you later."

James and Sirius exchanged a curious glance as you rushed off. You breathed a sigh of relief the moment you stepped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

Finally, peace and quiet.

But then you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James Potter jogging to catch up.

"Hey!" He called out, clearly not bothered by your earlier panic. "I decided to come with you since I’ve got nothing to do. Figured we could walk to class together after studying." He said it so cheerfully as if you hadn’t just escaped from his company a few moments ago.

You blinked, speechless. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. You didn’t think it would be this hard to get James Potter off your back.

He matched your pace, the two of you walking side by side in the silence that felt anything but comfortable.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if your life had just become infinitely more complicated than you had planned.

"So, what did you need to study?" James asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he looked at you with that easygoing grin of his.

You quickly scrambled for an answer, the pressure of his gaze making your mind race. "Astronomy!" You replied a bit too quickly, the excitement in your voice betraying your nerves.

"But you've always been good at Astronomy," James raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical as he studied you closely.

You tried to shrug it off, but your voice betrayed you. "I'm afraid the subject's been slowly slipping from me," You said, forcing a smile.

His face softened, the skepticism fading into a more understanding look. "Yeah, Professor Sinistra does tend to move quickly," He said, nodding in agreement. "I even tried to cast a time-slowing spell on her once just to get down all my notes."

You laughed, the image of James trying (and likely failing) to slow down the Professor amusing. "And what did you get in return?" you asked, a teasing grin playing on your lips.

"Two weeks of detention," He said, smirking as if the whole thing was just a funny memory. "Totally worth it though."

You giggled, the sound feeling lighter in your chest. "Of course it was."

You both walked in silence next to each other, making your way towards the library. You were glad that the silence was comfortable but a part of you still thought avoiding James was the best plan.

You went to sit at a table before James rushed over to you, pulling your chair out for you as you rolled your eyes, "Do you just want me to keep calling you a gentleman?"

"A bit," He shrugged as he sat down across from you.

You opened your textbook for Astronomy, actually deciding to do work since you were there anyways.

You noticed James making paper planes and attempting to get them to fly over your head. By the fourth one, it hit you square in the forehead, and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"Do you need me to give you a task?" You asked, eyeing him with a look that could only be described as 'toddler supervision.'

James rested his head on his palm, his gaze staring off into space. "I just think there are more exciting things we could be doing right now," He replied with a bored sigh.

"Like what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and offering him a light smile.

He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with mischief. "I could teach you how to play Quidditch!"

You almost felt sick just hearing the words. You shook your head furiously. "I don't know about that," You said, looking back down at your textbook as if you could will the conversation away.

James grabbed your hand in an exaggerated plea. "Come on, it'll be fun!" He cheered, his enthusiasm making you laugh, but before you could say anything else, the librarian shushed him with a fierce look.

You giggled quietly, "Sorry, James, no," You said firmly, scribbling some notes in your textbook.

James pouted dramatically, laying his head down on the desk in defeat. You studied him for a few moments as he huffed, like a child who hadn't gotten his way.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the pull of his antics. "I'm not falling for this."

He continued to pout, his face scrunched in exaggerated misery. He pretended to sniffle dramatically, looking up at you with his big hazel eyes.

"No, James, I mean it," You said, trying to keep your tone firm, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

--

And next thing you knew, you were on the Quidditch field.

You yelped loudly as you clung to James’s waist, the wind rushing in your face as he zoomed higher into the sky. "We haven't even made it into the air yet!" James laughed excitedly, clearly having the time of his life as you panicked.

"This is still really high!" You cried out, your grip tightening around him. You dared a glance down and saw the ground growing smaller and more distant by the second.

"Close your eyes, I’ve got you!" James shouted reassuringly, though it still sounded somehow delicate, soothing you.

With a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped him even tighter. The wind whipped around you, but James’s steady hold kept you grounded—physically, at least. When you opened your eyes, the sensation of rising fast into the air filled you with a mix of excitement and dread.

James cheered as you both soared, flipping through the air and spiraling in wide, dizzying motions. You screamed, the wind filling your lungs with cold, sharp air.

But then, as if sensing your panic, James calmed things down, steering the broom to glide slowly over the Black Lake.

You exhaled a long breath, your heart rate slowing as you took in the view. From this height, the lake looked more beautiful than you'd ever seen it before, its surface sparkling in the early morning light.

You rested your cheek against his back, staring down at the glistening water below. "This is really pretty," You murmured, surprised at how peaceful it felt up here.

James chuckled lightly. "It's one of my favorite things to look at when I ride." He smiled, but you could feel his warmth, even through the rush of wind. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back with a grin that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Is this where you disappear to during Quidditch games when you're supposed to be looking for the snitch?" You joked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James's eyes widened dramatically. "You've figured me out!" he yelled, a laugh bursting from him before he abruptly swerved the broom again, causing you both to spiral upward with another whoosh of wind.

You screamed as you were whipped through the air, but James’s laughter was all you could hear. He cheered as the wind carried you higher, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you felt the thrill and panic collide inside you.

Seeing James so excited, gliding through the air, eased most of your fear. His laughter, the way he moved so effortlessly—it was impossible not to feel lighter in his presence.

You hadn’t realized until now how much you wanted to see someone smile like that, so carefree and alive. His joy was infectious, and it made you feel like maybe you were starting to enjoy this too.

James’s grin widened when he saw the way you were watching him. “See? Told you it’s fun up here,” he said, his voice full of that same infectious enthusiasm. He spun the broom gently, making you feel the rush of wind again, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.

You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s amazing up here,” You admitted.

James’s smile softened as he gently lowered both of you to the ground. You carefully dismounted the broom, your legs still a little shaky from the ride.

As James went to put the broom back in its rightful place, you glanced at your watch—(yes, you had actually bought one)—and your heart dropped. "Shit! James, we’re going to be late!" You yelled, rushing toward him.

He immediately sprinted over as you tossed his bag at him with a hurried "Sorry!" You grabbed yours, slinging it over your shoulder before running up the stairs.

After what felt like an eternity of climbing, you stopped at the first landing to catch your breath.

James huffed, leaning on the railing. "Maybe we should just skip," He suggested, looking at you with a mischievous glint.

You shot him a death glare as the stairs shifted back into place, urging him to hurry. "Not an option, Potter!"

You both barely made it to class, arriving two minutes late. Professor Adair gave you both a disappointed look and gestured to the empty seats in the front. The entire class seemed to turn toward you, exchanging curious glances.

James leaned over and whispered, "Hey, you did great today."

You flushed, feeling a little flustered. "Thanks," You mumbled, half of you still recovering from the flying.

"Think I can have a spot on the team?" You asked, grinning at him.

James grinned back. "Oh, for sure. Your flying skills are impeccable," He said, his tone light and teasing.

"Be careful, Potter. I might take your spot as Seeker." You nudged him, half-joking, but his hand squeezed your thigh lightly in response.

You were about to respond when you saw your friends walking toward you, with Emma trailing behind them. The glare she shot you could've melted stone, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of unease.

"And why were you two late?" Lily asked, her voice mock-stern.

"Well, Mom, we were out flying," James said with a dramatic pout, making you laugh.

Lily looked at you, wide-eyed. "You went flying?"

"How did you make her do that?" Remus asked, half-sitting on his chair in front of you as Sirius snored, head resting on his shoulder.

"I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Y/N jump ," Marlene chimed in, snickering.

You shot her a look, but the corner of your lips twitched. "It was a one-time thing."

"Oh, yeah?" James smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. "I think there’s still more flying to do," He teased, and you giggled.

Your friends exchanged suspicious glances, but Emma’s sour expression cut through the moment. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on James, her voice syrupy sweet. "Well, we’re thinking about going to Hogsmeade tonight," she said, ignoring you completely.

"Sounds fun," You said casually, but Emma’s smile faltered slightly.

Sirius yawned, not looking up from where he was practically asleep on Remus’s shoulder. "So, are you two in?"

James looked at you with a grin. "If M’lady is."

"Sure, why not?" You responded lightly.

Emma looked like she was about to cast the Killing Curse right there, but she held it together, forcing a fake smile. "Great, it’s a date," She said, her eyes burning into you.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be very interesting.

[whore4mattsturniolo]

Safeword ♡︎ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: smut (obviously), bdsm themes, degrading, crying, use of safeword, aftercare

And a little girl should be careful, but who's gonna make her?

Matt pounded into you, his rough hands gripping your hips with such strength that there would definitely be bruises the next day. It had been hours of his ruthlesslessness, hardly giving you a break to come down from your high.

"Such a good fuckin' slut," he repeated, his hand coming down for yet another harsh slap against your ass, before soothingly rubbing the red marks he'd left. "Dirty little whore. Always—fuck—always takin' what I give you."

Matt in and out of the bedroom were two completely different people, and you had learned this soon after your first time having sex with him. Outside, he was calm, sweet, and loving. He was gentle and protective, would never dream of hurting you. During the late hours of the night, however. That was a different story.

The quickness in which he would go from whispering sweet nothings into your ear to pushing you on your knees and shoving his cock down your throat made your head spin each time.

He was vulgar. He was rough. He was mean. For hours he would continuously thrust into you, laughing as tears rolled down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

He'd degrade you, calling you a slut and a whore, saying you weren't good for anything but his dick. He'd choke you until your vision started to go fuzzy and the white spots started appearing.

It wasn't that you didn't like it. You loved it, but today just wasn't your day. You had a bad day a work, you were behind on your to-do list, and just overall stressed out. Matt's cruel words didn't help either, they only sent you down a hole of overthinking.

"When those boys start playing too rough, well, who's gonna save her?"

Tears started to form in your eyes, soaking the mattress that Matt pressed your face into, arching your back until he hit that sweet spot, "F-fuck," he moaned, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Mmph—You like it, huh? You like me treating you like the worthless little slut you are?"

He slaps your ass again, harder than before. "I know y'do, baby. I know y'love it...can feel you fuckin' squeezing my cock."

The tears weren't from pleasure, like normal. They were from pain, and hurt. His words cut into you like a dagger, his rough thrusts only making it worse. He wasn't focused on you in this moment, he was only focused on his own pleasure, chasing his high again and again.

You bit the sheets, trying to hold on for him, knowing that once he finally came in you (again), he'd be done, and he'd go back to the sweet, gentle Matt you loved. But you couldn't wait for him. Not this time.

"Remember your safe word"

"V-Vermont," you stuttered, your voice muffled as you slowly lifted your head up from the covered. "Vermont!" The shout sounded more like a sob as your voice broke.

Matt's thrusts slowed, before stopping completely, pulling out of your abused hole and moving to your face. His heart broke as he watched tears fall down your cheeks, your eyes cold and doleful.

"And if everything could come to a stop, just for something she says"

"Hey...s'okay...it's me," he said gently, moving your hair out of your face as he watched you curl into a ball, bringing your knees up to your chest and holding them there. "Did I do somethin'? Did I go too hard?"

"I thought the whole point was you were living on the edge"

Looking up at Matt, you nod, tears still running down your face. "M'sorry," you choke out, your voice quivering with broken sobs. "Just had a bad day. I really need you."

He looks at you with sorrow, frowning at the idea of hurting you. "Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for going too hard. I'm sorry that you needed me and—and I wasn't there for you," he felt his own voice break. He felt awful. "I'm gonna go run you a bath, okay? Gonna get you cleaned up, and then we'll talk...talk about your day—"

"No," you say softly, reaching out to hold his hand. "Stay. Just stay here with me. Please?"

He stops his movements, before smiling at you and nodding.He lays close to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "I love you so much," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. "Always."

You smile at his words, your crying subsiding as you feel his warm body next to yours. This was all you wanted. He was all you wanted.

"Remember your safeword"

tags: @bowsandsturniolos @yourmother29 @sweetshuga @sturns-mermaid @leah-sturniolo @spideylana @dykes4chris @sophsturns @freshhhloveee @mattsbunnyxx @slut4christopherr @trevorsgodmother @sosasturns @emely9274 @courta13

[c0llisiion]

DAY 14 — MINCHAN

★ npr, f!reader, double penetration , threesome , softdom!chan, harddom!lmh, dumbification, anal, nicknames — lmk if i missed any!!; W/C: 919

Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day14 is officially out <3

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

[ visuals!! ]

“Just stay still, honey… daddy’s gonna make you feel so good…” Minho said softly as he pushed his fat cock into your tight asshole.

Your head was nuzzled into Chans neck, who was laid back against the headboard. His thick dick fit snug in your fucked-out pussy, your juices coating his length. You shudder as you feel Minhos cock inch further in you. Your breathing was ragged and heavy as you felt him push himself. Chans hand held the back of your thighs, drawing soothing circles on your flesh to relax your muscles.

“Fuck-“ Minho choked out as he was stretching out your hole, the globs of lube and your arousal helping just a bit. “Relax sweetie… you’re in safe hands… dont want Minho to feel uncomfortable, do we…?” Chan whispered in your ear, his voice soft and smooth, giving you the warmth of comfort.

You shook your head against his neck and muttered out a small ‘okay’ before relaxing yourself.

You hadn’t even realized you were tensed. Minhos cocked slipped in easily, making you shiver and arch your back against Chan's body.

Chan chuckles and runs a finger down your spine. Your body shudders at the different sensations. “You okay? Feels good?” Minho asks you, wanting to make sure you’re okay before starting to move. You nod and encourage him.

Minho glances at Chan, giving the older man a signal to start moving.

You were all of a sudden sent to heaven as you felt them move in you. It was a struggle at first. Minho and Chan tried to find a steady rhythm before eventually fucking into you at the same pace. Your head was hung low against Chan's collarbone, and your eyes were blown wide, almost drooling as they fucked into your holes. The feeling of both of their cocks penetrating your walls was making you writhe and roll your eyes to the back of your head.

“Fuck yeah baby… you like that shit, don’t you?” Minhos voice was gruff and dark as his hips started stretching your asshole out.

You whimper when you feel chan match the younger one’s energy. “Does it feel good, pretty? Yeah? Channies not hurting you, right?” Chan’s voice was delicate and calm in contrast to Minhos.

You shook your head and whined against his neck. Your body felt like jelly, and your mind was starting to get clouded. Minho pulled your head back, grabbing your hair in a ponytail. “look at him while you’re speaking. Don’t you know manners?” He whispered roughly in your ears, his other hand grabbing your ass cheeks before giving a small slap.

You cried out at Minhos demand and looked at Chan with your tear-stained eyes. Your forehead sweaty, and your lips are parted.

Chans expression was soft. He had a thin layer of sweat forming on his face. He grabbed your jaw and pushed his fingers in. “You’re doing so well… look at you.. taking mine and minho’s cock together… like a big girl, yeah?” You moaned against his fingers and held onto his wrist.

Your asshole and pussy clenched around their lengths and leaking arousal . Their cocks drilling into you at the same rate.

Minho was relentlessly in his thrusts. He made sure every inch of him was in you. “Oh god… fuck yeah baby… you take dick so well…” he chuckled darkly. Chan laughed along with the younger. “Of course she does… shes a good girl, aint you pretty?” He asks, his wet fingers wrapping around your neck. You nod incoherently. Your body is in a totally different dimension.

“Speak up, darling.” Minho pulled your head back and slapped your face softly.

“Now now.. don’t be harsh with her minho… poor baby is clearly cock drunk…” chans voice was smooth, with a sinister hint behind his words.

Minho glanced at your face and noticed your expression. “See? She is completely out of it… too dumb to even think…” chan smirked and trailed his hand down your body to your clit, flicking the sensitive bud.

You groaned and leaned forward, their cocks still pounding in you. Minho reflected the older man’s smirk. “Is that so, princess? Too dumb to even comprehend anything? Uh-huh?”

You cried out when you felt them go faster. Your hands gripping onto Chan’s biceps for dear life. You turn your face around to look at Minho, who was a panting moaning mess.

“Min…minho…?” You called out to him.

“Yeah doll? What is it?” He looked at you, observing your dazed eyes and sweaty face.

“M-more… n..need more… c-chan…” you were so fucked out to the point you mistakenly called Minho, Chan. 

Minho smirked before looking at the other man who was continuously playing with your clit. “Hear that, Hyung? Our little princess wants more apparently… dont you, princess?” He spanks you.

You whine and nod. Chan pressed against your clit making you moan and cry out a bit too loud. “Is that so? Princess wants more, does she now, huh?” He pretends to think. “Do you think she deserves it, Minho?" Their cocks slow down, completely halting after a moment.

You panic. The loss of penetration was making you tear up. “Hmm… in my opinion, no.” You look at Minho, sad and panicky, who had on a shit-eating smirk. “What? You didn’t like that?” You shook your head, your lower lip trembling. “So desperate…” he kissed your cheek. “What do you say, Hyung?" She’s practically begging for it..” Chan eyed you before sighing and smiling. “Anything for our princess.”

Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr @kpopsmutty69 @jisunglyricist @targaryenluvs @yuminhyunn @chansramennn @anylady-fics @marihoneywk @mikaelless

If you want to be part of the taglist, do lmk!! ^^

[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I��m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[lightseoul]

16 please 👀

Congrats btw for your 2K milestone!! 🎉 WAHOO

number 16, coming right up! thank you for playing and for the congratulations, lovely <3 i hope this one makes you laugh!

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

16. "I WANT TO GO HOME TO MY WIFE." (0.7k)

it’s probably by the tenth sigh of the night—not that anyone’s counting—that poor kaminari finally snaps.

“seriously, dude?”

bakugou, who’s seated across from him with kirishima and sero adjacent to the both of them, only lazily raises an eyebrow in question.

at that, the electric hero pouts. “at least try to pretend you’re having fun.”

a few feet ahead of them—the men collectively chose to be seated at the back of the small dive bar despite kaminari’s protests—the stand-up comedian currently doing a set cracks another joke. an undercurrent of laughter flows across the room, but none of the four contribute to that.

“sorry, denki,” sero starts, a not-so-apologetic expression plastered on his face. “i’m with bakugou on this one.”

the slim, ebony-haired man glances at the stage, “the jokes aren’t landing for me either.”

“aww, come on, you guys!” kirishima, the ever-unfailing saint that he is, pipes up with a borderline overcompensating grin. “let’s just stay for a while longer for denki, alright?”

sero shrugs in response, but turns in his seat toward the stage anyway. bakugou, on the other hand, only grumbles before reaching for his phone in his right pocket.

thumbing his password under the table, his fingers click on the messages app, then to his number one favorite contact.

for a second, he debates whether or not to shoot you a text. you were so excited to finally get started on that anime you’ve been meaning to watch, that you almost seemed like you didn’t care that he was leaving you home for the night to hang out with the guys.

biting on his lip, he absentmindedly goes through your last exchange before finally deciding fuck it.

while typing out a well-crafted message, his eyes dart between his screen to his friends then back down again, trying to seem inconspicuous.

the last thing he needs is for the bored tape hero to tease him with that annoying ass shit-eating grin of his.

reading through it one last time, bakugou finally presses the send button.

much to his delight, it doesn’t even take you a minute to reply.

(8:43 PM) baby 🧡: heey! i’m still watching—am on episode 5 now. hbu? aren’t you busy with the boys?

the smile he wasn’t aware he’s been sporting immediately drops when he’s reminded of the predicament he’s in. peering back up at the front, he has to fight the groan that threatens to bubble from his mouth when another performer goes up.

oh, well. at least you’re texting him right now.

he quickly types out his response.

(8:45 PM) me: Busy being fucking tortured. This is the worst night ever.

“yo, bro, who got you smiling like that?”

bakugou whips to glare at the culprit, who’s now wearing the very same shit-eating grin he’s just been thinking about avoiding a few moments ago.

pocketing his phone, bakugou snarls at the man. “shut the fuck up. all that doom-scrolling is rotting your fucking brain.”

“i think you getting the reference says something about you, too, bakubro,” kirishima offers from beside him.

bakugou shoots the redhead a menacing scowl, which the unbreakable hero accepts in stride.

“are you guys even listening?” comes kaminari’s whine.

“sorry, denks,” sero replies, before turning to regard the rest of the group. “i thought we agreed to stop doing these guys’ night outs? none of us are as good at planning get-togethers as mina.”

at that slightest bit of opening, bakugou takes the opportunity and moves to stand up, grabbing his wallet and car keys before inserting them in his back pocket, surprising the three men.

before any of them can say a single word, though, bakugou tries to shrug nonchalantly, muttering his simple explanation.

“what was that?” came sero’s teasing tone.

“i want to go home to my wife, idiot,” bakugou barks before he can stop himself.

at that, kaminari finally throws his hands up in defeat.

kirishima only shrugs himself, “that clicks.”

while the menace snickers. “simp.”

[rimunagenius]

It’s Time You Switch

ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

ʚ word count: 4.4k words

ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!

| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.

Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.

"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.

You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.

"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.

"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.

"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.

"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.

You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.

That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.

You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.

"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.

"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.

"Paige, that's a little mean."

"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.

"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.

Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.

"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.

"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.

"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.

"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.

"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.

"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.

"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.

She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.

Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.

"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.

"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.

You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.

Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.

While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.

Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.

"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.

"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.

You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.

You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.

You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.

You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.

She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.

You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.

Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.

She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.

Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.

She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.

Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.

She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.

The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.

"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.

"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.

"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.

The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.

"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.

"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.

Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.

The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.

You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.

The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.

She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.

Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.

"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.

The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.

You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.

You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.

Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.

There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.

Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.

"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.

"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.

You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.

The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.

"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.

"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.

That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.

"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.

The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.

Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.

She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.

Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.

Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.

Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.

It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.

Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.

"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.

Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.

Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.

You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.

The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.

"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.

"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.

"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.

"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.

"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."

"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.

You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."

"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.

"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

wanna kiss his face with an uppercut

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — rafe is back to being a softie, talks of explicit picture

summary — rafe wants to know why you’ve been ignoring him.

authors note — this can be read as a standalone but is a continuation of that recent part in my mean!rafe series. it can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist under au’s. olease request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” he mumbled, sitting all tense on the sofa across from you in the living room of your house. “i’ve called and texted hundreds of times and you jus’ haven’t returned any of ‘em.”

you just shrugged and tucked yourself further into your blanket. “been busy. haven’t had the chance,” you replied bluntly. it wasn’t necessarily a lie. the only thing you were busy with though was sleeping and thinking about your relationship and whether or not it was worth the pain.

he looked slightly taken back. “busy with what? you don’t leave the house. your car hasn’t even moved.” if you didn’t hear the slight whine in his voice, you would’ve though he meant it in an aggressive manner. instead, he sounded genuinely curious.

“i have stuff to do around the house, schoolwork, i have to car for kiwi,” you listed. college was hard and even harder with a relationship. and your dog kiwi wasn’t exactly low maintenance. she needed a walk everyday, special meals for her specific diet, and pampering.

he leaned back in his seat and spread his legs to get comfortable while crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you. “why didn’t you ask for my help? you know kiwi loves me. i coulda helped out with her or helped with the house. y’know i have before, right?”

you simply shrugged again. “i can handle myself,” you said dismissively.

“yeah, i know you can but you don’t need to. y’know i’m always here,” he said as if it were obvious. “did i do somethin’ wrong? why are you suddenly bein’ so cold with me outta nowhere?”

you rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh of frustration. “are you fucking kidding me rafe? ‘did i do something wrong?’ you know exactly what you did,” you snapped sharply at him. “what do you think of me? because you clearly don’t respect me.”

a crease formed between his eyebrows as he stared at you. “what?” his voice was much smaller now. maybe it was the fact that yours was louder and he’d never heard you raise your voice, especially at him.

“don’t act all stupid with me. you don’t get to just go around showing your friends vulnerable pictures of me and basically tell them that i’m so easy and i just do whatever the fuck you say,” you spat. “i’m not your bitch and i’m sure as hell not someone you’re gonna boss around and walk all over. that little comment about me begging for a chance? seriously? i didn’t know you saw our relationship as a power play for you.”

you could see tears forming in his eyes. you’d never seen him get this upset over something. “baby, i didn’t—i didn’t think—“ he began to stutter over his words before just stopping all together.

“i have too much respect for myself to let someone talk to me like that,” you said, your voice much quieter now but still nowhere near gentle. you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose to try to relieve the pressure forming into a headache. “i don’t know if we should do this anymore, rafe.”

his head immediately snapped up as his teary gaze met yours and his wet cheeks glistened under the light. “no. no, don’t do that. please baby, don’t say that,” he pleaded desperately. he stood from his seat and took eager strides to where you were sitting. he kneeled down in front of you and gently took your hands in his own. “please jus’ work this out with me, angel. i don’t wanna lose you. i can’t. i’ll do whatever it takes, jus’ don’t leave me.”

you bit your lip and shook your head. “i can’t keep letting myself get disrespected. what you said—what you did, was absolutely insane. i would’ve never in my entire life thought to say that to someone, let alone someone i love. that was just cruel and it hurt my feelings. you didn’t even acknowledge that.”

“please angel, jus’ one more shot, okay?” he reasoned softly, fresh tears falling. he’d never had someone confront him like this besides his dad. “i’m sorry for bein’ so mean the other day. i know i was rude and all but i was havin’ a bad day and that’s not an excuse but you know its hard for me to control sometimes. once again, not an excuse but i jus’ let my anger get out of hand and i swear to be better about it.”

you looked to the side to avoid looking at him while thinking carefully bout your next words. “you don’t get it. you say all this stuff and i want to believe you but i’m not even sure thats possible after what you said the other day.”

he nodded in agreement. “i understand that and i know that things won’t just go back to normal. i’m not asking you to do that. i’m just asking that you try to work things out with me. give me time to prove to you that i can be better and i promise you, you won’t regret it.”

you knew it was a bad idea. you could feel it in your bones but the bigger part of you wanted to hold him and tell him things would be okay. you wanted to wipe his pretty tears and kiss his pink lips. it was terrifying. “one last shot rafe. i’m giving you one more try and thats it. you’re not jus’ gonna keep hurting me and expecting me to forgive you and have sex. thats not how this works. i don’t deserve that.”

“no, you deserve the world,” he whispered softly as his lip began to tremble. a sad smile graced his lips before he was laying kisses to your knuckle. “i promise i’ll be so much better baby. i swear on my life.”

you really did hope he was serious this time.

[p1astr81]

sub!oscar bc he's down bad? 😩 obsessed, give me ten

ask and I shall deliver! my second smut ever written so pls understand this isn’t my expertise.

warnings: sub!needy!oscar (obv), overstim, pnv, excessive use of the word baby, probably cringe idk, hint of dry humping

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

Oscar hated triple headers, and he especially hated when you couldn’t get work off to join him for at least one of those weeks.

And god did he miss you. Your smile. Your laugh. The way you tried to drag him out of bed every morning just to be unable to move him an inch, and finally settle for kissing him until he couldn’t get back to sleep. And he missed the sweet smell of your perfume. And how the scent of your shampoo would flood his nose whenever you cuddled up with him at night. And he even missed your thievery, how you would snatch his hoodies when he wasn’t looking. The list could’ve gone on and on.

But he had to admit, even with all that sappy stuff, he did miss the sex.

He’d been so deprived of you that even the mere thought of you got him all riled up, and had his dick already hardening in his jeans.

It was definitely wrong, but the entire flight home, he was envisioning different ways to wake you up so you’d finally get him off after three very long weeks.

He never got to execute a single one though, because when he got home and crept into your shared bedroom, you weren’t there.

“Looking for something, pretty boy?” Your sweet, sultry voice brought a smile to his lips.

He turned to find your silhouette in the doorway, the only light flooding in from behind you. He quickly realized you were in nothing but a lingerie set. Not even a thin nighty covered your curves. It took everything in him to hold back a groan.

So sensual, you sauntered over to him, grabbing his face with your hands. You kissed his nose. “I’ve missed you.” You muttered.

Oscar allowed himself to grip your hips. Your breath hitched when he pulled you impossibly close. You could feel how hard he was. “Seems like you missed me, too.” You teased, a muted giggle. “And that seems really painful.”

“You have no idea.” He mumbled against your lips, already drunk on the smell of your shampoo and perfume, and the way your skin felt beneath his fingers, and the weight of your body against his.

He leaned forward, trying to kiss you properly. You pulled away, and he fucking whined.

“Someone’s needy.” You quipped.

Oscar bowed his head, shamelessly eyeing the curve of your tits. “Baby, I haven’t seen you in three weeks.”

You clicked your tongue, faking a pout that he could just make out in the dark. “Oh and that’s so long.” You purposely ground your hips into him.

His breath came out shaky. “Fuck, baby please.”

You hushed him, trailing kisses from his mouth to the curve of his neck and collar bones.

Each open-mouthed kiss sent a bolt of pleasure through him. If he didn’t do something, he was going to cum untouched. So he reached behind you and unclipped your bra.

You drew back. “Needy and impatient. What’s gotten into you?” You teased, backing him up until he’s fallen on the bed. Your lips restart their attack on his neck. “You’re wearing far too many clothes.” You breathlessly, complain. While you fumble to remove his shirt, Oscar is undoing his pants. He didn’t need to be told twice.

“So fuckin sexy.” You rasped, your hands traveling down his bare chest, tracing the grooves of his muscles. The soft biting of your lip drove him insane.

His jeans had been thrown somewhere in the room. It left the both of you in your just underwear. He took hold of your hips and rolled them against his own. The both of you moaned at the contact.

Silently, you pulled his hands away from your hips, planting them to the mattress. Your lips made his way down his chest, pausing when you reached the waistband of his boxers.

“You’re torturing me.” He panted in anticipation. He didn’t like how you smiled in response, like you had a plan for more torturous activity.

Of course, you did.

You mouthed his dick over his boxers.

Oscar stuttered a whispered curse. He gripped your hands, his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth open in a silent moan. “Fuck, oh fuck, fuck.” He moaned, high pitched. “Please, need you.”

He groaned when your fingers dipped under his waistband and peeled his boxers down his legs. His dick was impossibly hard and throbbing with need.

“Shit,” you cursed, finally letting go of his hands. “You’re so hot like this.” Shedding your panties, you made your way back up the mattress, shattering his hopes that you’d take him down your throat. You cupped his cheek. He was so blissed out and hadn’t even cum yet. “Tell me what you need.”

His hands ran up and down your legs while you hovered over him, he fought the urge to buck up into you. “You— I need, hm, I need you to—“ Before he could even finish, you sunk down on his cock, taking him fully in one go. A symphony of moans filled the room.

You only got three strokes in before his hands shot to your hips and stopped you from moving. “Wait— wait.” He panted. Brows furrowed, you questioned the action. “I’m, if you keep going I’m gonna cum.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so close.”

You held back a laugh. “Already?” You feigned remorse, choosing to tighten around him.

He gasped. “Shit, shit. Don’t do that.” He pleaded.

You did it again and earned another gasp. “Seriously, I’m gonna cum.” Pleading, glazed over eyes looked up at yours.

Gently, you took his hands in yours and relocated them to your tits. “Good.”

He tried to protest when you started to move again, but was cut off by his own moans. He mumbled out incoherent praises, struggling to catch his breath.

You leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Feels so good.” You muttered, and he greedily swallowed your moans.

The new angle felt even better. Oscar didn’t last long. He didn’t even get a chance to warn you before he was cumming inside you. Good thing you were on birth control. He pulled you down to muffle his moans against your lips.

But you didn’t stop. You continued to rock your hips at a steady pace, which was all fine until the pleasure started to become too much for Oscar.

“Ah, fuck, babe please-“

“Do you want me to stop?”

Oscar remained silent, but continued to fill the space with his shaky, breathy moans and incoherent muttering. “Perfect, so perfect.”

You sped up your movements, so close to the brink. Hiding your face in the curve of his neck, you gripped onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He hissed, but didn’t complain.

He could tell you were close based on your quickening breaths and how your moans gradually increased in pitch. His fingers met your clit, and only circled it three times before you collapsed over the edge, body shaking. Oscar came for the second time and pulled you off of him after riding out both of your highs.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he confessed his love to you. You smiled and kissed him lazily, eyes closed as sleep tried to drag you away.

“Hey, not yet. Shower first and then sleep.” Oscar advised, picking you up before you could protest.

[ghstyles]

Apartment 2C | His Angel

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

His Angel Masterlist

WC: 6K

Note: For this series, you don’t have to read all the parts. It’s up to you. They don’t pick off where the other ended. Just glimpses into their lives. I won’t post them in chronological order but I will list them in that order

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

Five months ago, if someone had suggested to Harry that he’d be standing in a tiny kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta, cooking for someone, that person would have been shot.

Yet here he was.

The wooden spoon felt foreign in his hand, awkward and useless compared to the weight of a gun. The scent of simmering marinara filled the air. Something warm, something domestic. It didn’t belong in his world. And yet, somehow, you did.

You padded into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing one of his shirts that hung off your frame.

“You’re stirring too aggressively,” you tease, sliding your arm around his waist.

Harry glanced down at you, the usual sharpness in his gaze dulling just a fraction. “I don’t do anything gently, sweetheart.”

You laughed, tilting your head up at him. “You do with me.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he lets you take the spoon from his grasp, your fingers brushing against his, soft and unscarred. He’d crushed men’s throats with these hands. Now, he let you guide them over something as simple as dinner.

He should have felt ridiculous. Weak. But when you smiled up at him, like he wasn’t the monster everyone else saw, he decided maybe, a very minuscule maybe, he could get used to this.

For a little while

"See? When you do it gently like this, it doesn't slosh all around everywhere. Less cleaning later. But I guess you don't clean up your own messes" you say, looking back at him. Looking away causes you to hiss as your arm accidentally touches the rim of the hot pot

Harry's attention snaps to you instantly at the sound of your hiss of pain. His eyes narrow, all traces of softness vanishing as he moves with speed, gently but firmly grasping your wrist to examine your arm.

"Fuck's sake, angel," he mutters, already pulling you toward the sink. He turns on the cold water and places your arm beneath the stream. "Let me see it."

The burn is minor, just a red mark across your forearm that will fade in an hour, but Harry's jaw is tight, his eyes cold as if the pan had personally offended him.

 "It's nothing, Harry. Just a little burn." You try to pull your arm back, rolling your eyes at his overreaction. "I'm not made of glass, you know."

Harry doesn't release your wrist, keeping your skin under the cool water. His thumb traces circles against your pulse point, a gesture that might seem tender if not for the dangerous look in his eyes.

"Didn't say you were," he responds flatly. "But if I find out this piece of shit stove burned you because it's faulty, I'm replacing the entire kitchen."

"It's my fault for being clumsy, not the stove's." You can't help but laugh at his intensity. "Are you going to put a hit out on my kitchenware now?"

Harry's expression doesn't change, but something like amusement flickers in his eyes.

"Don't tempt me, princess." He finally releases your wrist, reaching for a clean kitchen towel to gently pat your skin dry. "Maybe I should just cook for you from now on."

"You? Cook?" You raise an eyebrow, teasing. "You have three chefs. When was the last time you even picked up a knife?”

A dark smirk crosses Harry's face as he takes the towel from your hand, his fingers lingering against yours for just a moment too long.

"Picked up a knife?" he repeats, his voice dropping lower. "This morning, actually."

He turns back to the stove, adjusting the heat with casual precision.

"Different purpose, though," he adds offhandedly, as if commenting on the weather rather than alluding to violence.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." You roll your eyes, nudging him with your hip as you reach for the salt. "I meant for cooking, not for...whatever it is you do with your mornings."

Harry watches you with that same calculating gaze, the one that makes hardened criminals confess their sins. On you, it just looks like he's trying to memorize every detail of your face.

"The less you know about my mornings, angel, the better you'll sleep at night." He takes the salt from your hand, adding a pinch to the sauce. "And I can cook. Survived on my own since I was fourteen, remember?"

His tone is matter-of-fact, no self-pity, just stating a harsh reality that shaped him.

"Well then, Gordon Ramsay, impress me." You fold your arms, challenging him with a playful smile.

Harry raises an eyebrow, amused by your defiance when most people would be cowering.

"Careful what you ask for, princess." He stirs the sauce once more. "I might just exceed your expectations... in more ways than one."

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully, reverting your attention back to the sauce

"Your place is too small," he comments abruptly, glancing around the modest apartment with critical eyes. "Security's shit too. Those locks wouldn't keep out a determined child."

He says this casually, as if discussing the weather rather than evaluating potential threats to your safety as he settles bak behind you.

You turn slightly to face Harry, still stirring the pasta sauce with careful motions.

"It's also cheap," you counter, meeting his critical gaze with a raised eyebrow. "Very much on my budget."

Harry scoffs, his fingers drumming against your hip bone as he surveys the apartment again. The cramped kitchen barely fits both of you, the living room furniture is clearly secondhand, and the walls are thin enough that you can hear the neighbors arguing sometimes. But it's yours, earned with your own money from your part-time job while balancing classes.

"Budgets can change," he says pointedly, reaching past you to turn down the heat on the stove. "Circumstances can change."

You shake your head, a conversation you've had multiple times before.

"We agreed, Harry. I pay my own way."

His jaw tightens, that familiar tension whenever his control is challenged. He steps back slightly, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. Even in casual clothes, dark jeans and a black button-up with the sleeves rolled to expose tattooed forearms, he looks dangerous, out of place among your colorful kitchen towels and mismatched dishes.

"Stubbornness isn't a virtue, Y/N," he says, watching you with those calculating eyes. "It's a liability."

You taste the sauce with a small spoon, deliberately ignoring his comment.

"Maybe to you. To me, it's independence," you reply, reaching for the pasta strainer. "Can you grab the colander?"

Harry sighs but complies, retrieving it from where it hangs under the sink. His movements are fluid, economical. A man who never wastes energy.

"Independence," he repeats the word like it's a concept he finds amusing. "Everyone depends on someone, angel. The sooner you accept that, the safer you'll be."

Steam rises between you as you pour the pasta into the colander, the hot water rushing through the holes and disappearing down the drain. Harry watches your movements intently, as if even this mundane task deserves his full analysis.

"I grew up depending on my parents for everything," you explain, carefully shaking the excess water from the pasta. "Got to college...felt like I'd been thrown in the ocean and left to fend for myself. I want to learn, Harry."

Something flickers across his face, a shadow you've come to recognize. It appears whenever you reference your family, your normal upbringing, all the things he never had. His fingers tap against the counter, a brief rhythm before he stills them.

"Learning to swim and drowning yourself are different things," he replies, his voice softer than usual, almost contemplative. "You think I didn't learn? Fourteen years old, kicked out on the street. No college dorms. No meal plans."

He reaches past you to take the colander, his movements controlled as he transfers the pasta back to the pot. His proximity is deliberate, a reminder of his physical presence.

"I learned every fucking day," he continues, the curse word slipping out casually. "Difference is, I learned that independence is an illusion people sell themselves to feel better about their vulnerabilities."

Harry turns to face you fully now, leaning his hip against the counter. His eyes, always intense, search yours.

"But if you need to prove something to yourself, fine. Just don't confuse stubbornness with strength, angel. Not in my world."

He reaches out, tucking a strand of your golden-brown hair behind your ear, his touch gentler than his words.

"Now, are we going to eat this pasta, or just philosophize over it until it gets cold?"

"You're the one who started," you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Always quick with that mouth," he murmurs, but there's no heat behind it. Just that private amusement that makes you feel like you've accomplished something significant, making Harry Styles almost lighthearted.

You turn your head, kissing his palm. "Get the garlic bread from the oven. I'll plate the pasta."

A low chuckle escapes him, the sound rough like he doesn't use it often enough. He lets his hand trail down your cheek before dropping it.

Harry moves with natural authority, grabbing an oven mitt, looking ridiculously out of place in his hand, and retrieving the golden-brown garlic bread. The scent fills the small kitchen, making it feel more like home than it usually does.

"Smells decent," he comments, which from him is high praise.

“Of course it does. I did half the work”

Harry's lips curve into that dangerous half-smile that makes his enemies nervous and sends heat through your body.

"Half the work?" he repeats, setting his bread down with controlled precision. "Sweetheart, you stirred the sauce twice and then burned yourself. I wouldn't call that half."

He steps closer, towering over you with that natural intimidation that follows him everywhere. When he reaches out, it's to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture surprisingly gentle from hands that have done such violent things.

"But if it makes you feel better to think you contributed..." he continues, voice dropping lower, "I'll let you have it."

 "Let me have it?" You scoff,. "How gracious of you. Next you'll be telling me you let me win at Scrabble last week."

Harry's eyes darken slightly at your challenge, but there's amusement there too, the kind he reserves solely for you.

"I never let anyone win anything," he states flatly. "You beat me fair and square. Though your choice of words was...educational."

He gestures toward the table, a subtle command in the movement.

"Sit. Eat. Before I decide to show you exactly what I meant by 'letting you have it.'"

The double meaning hangs in the air between you, charged with promise.

You almost choke on your own spit, ignoring his comment as you sit, “I don’t know what you’re taking about. I used perfectly reasonable words”

Harry watches you with predatory amusement as you try to recover, settling into the chair across from you. The small table means your knees brush against his under the surface.

"Perfectly reasonable," he repeats, twirling pasta around his fork with deliberate movements. "Is that what we're calling 'fellatio' now? Especially when you played it on a triple word score."

His expression remains neutral, but his eyes are dancing with that dark humor that makes your stomach flip.

"It's a medical term," you defend yourself primly, taking a bite of pasta to hide your smile. "Not my fault you have a dirty mind."

Harry makes a low sound in his throat, something between a laugh and a growl.

"Angel, my mind isn't just dirty. It's fucking filthy." He takes a sip of wine, eyes never leaving yours. "Especially where you're concerned."

You ignore him, simply because you were too flustered to respond. 

As you both ate from two mismatched plates, you catch him surveying your apartment again, his eyes lingering on the windows, the door, the fire escape visible through the kitchen window. Always assessing, always planning for threats.

"Stop casing my apartment like you're planning to rob it," you say without looking up, knowing exactly what he's doing.

Harry sets the fork down, his lips quirking up at one corner.

"If I was planning to rob it, angel, you wouldn't see me casing it," he replies, picking up the kife and cutting the bread with precise movements. "And there's nothing here worth taking."

Your jaw drops. Harry watches your theatrical reaction with that amusement dancing in his eyes. He sets the knife down deliberately, turning to face you fully as you cross your arms over your chest.

He pauses, his eyes finding yours across the small space. "Except you."

The casual possessiveness in his tone should probably concern you more than it does.

"Oh no you don't! Don't try to fix it by saying that," you exclaim, fighting the smile threatening to break through your mock offense.

"Fix it?" Harry repeats, his voice dropping lower. "When have you ever known me to backtrack on anything I've said, sweetheart?"

 "So you don't think I own anything of value?".

"Your textbooks might fetch fifty cents at a second-hand store," he says thoughtfully, then gestures toward your living room. "That TV's at least two generations old. Your laptop's password is your birthday. Backwards. Hardly secure."

His hand reaches out, fingers lightly gripping your chin. The touch is gentle but firm, a contradiction like everything else about him.

"But value? That's subjective, isn't it?" His voice drops lower. "To me, the only thing of value in this entire building is standing right in front of me, getting worked up over pasta and garlic bread."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his expression shifting to something more serious.

"I could buy you anything, Y/N. Everything. But the one thing I want is the thing you insist on giving freely. That's the fucking irony."

The room feels smaller suddenly, the air between you charged with something electric. Your mock indignation melts away under his touch, your voice dropping to a whisper that betrays your affected composure.

"Which is?" you ask, the words barely audible.

Harry's eyes darken as they track the movement of your lips. His thumb still rests against your bottom lip, applying the slightest pressure. The pasta forgotten on the table in front of you.

"Your trust," he answers, his voice rough around the edges. "Your fucking choice to be here. With me."

His free hand grips your chair, pulling you towards him as if you weighed nothing 

"I've bought loyalty. I've bought silence. I've bought respect," he continues, his free hand moving to your waist, fingers splaying possessively against the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing. "But I can't buy the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

His grip on your chin tightens slightly, tilting your face up further.

"Can't buy the way you kiss me like I'm not the monster everyone else sees," he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. "Can't buy the way you argue with me when men twice your size wouldn't dare."

His eyes flick down to your mouth, then back to your eyes. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, the danger and desire inseparable with Harry.

"That's the irony, angel. The one fucking thing I can't obtain through force or money is the only thing I actually want."

He leans in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours.

"Now tell me again how you don't own anything of value."

The tension between you stretches taut for a moment, his confession hanging in the air, raw and unexpected from a man who guards his thoughts like state secrets. Your heart pounds against your ribs, his words sending heat spiraling through your body.

And then, in classic Y/N fashion, you break it with humor.

"I... I have a limited edition eyeshadow palette that was hard to get," you whisper, your eyes wide with mock seriousness. "Better go lock it up."

For a split second, Harry's expression freezes in disbelief. Then something rare happens, he laughs. Not the calculated chuckle he uses in business meetings or the cold sound that makes his enemies nervous, but a genuine laugh that transforms his face entirely.

His forehead drops to yours, his body still caging you against the chair but now slightly shaking with amusement.

"Fucking hell, angel," he mutters, his fingers moving from your chin to curl around the nape of your neck. "You're impossible."

His other hand tightens at your waist, pulling you onto his lap. The heat of his body seeps through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing.

"Here I am, practically confessing, " he cuts himself off, shaking his head slightly. "And you're worried about fucking makeup."

Before you can respond with another quip, his mouth captures yours in a kiss that's equal parts punishment and reward. His lips move against yours with practiced precision, knowing exactly how to make your knees weak, how to steal the breath from your lungs.

When he pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes, his expression has shifted back to that dangerous intensity.

"Keep making jokes, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips. "We both know it's how you handle things that scare you."

His hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you impossibly closer.

"And we both know I fucking terrify you sometimes," he adds, his voice dropping to that velvet-rough tone that makes your insides liquify. "Don't we?"

"You dont scare me. You’re like...a big kitten" 

Harry's eyes narrow dangerously at your words, but there's a glint of something like appreciation beneath the surface, that constant push-pull between you that he secretly craves.

"A kitten," he repeats slowly, testing the word like it's foreign on his tongue.

His hand slides from the nape of your neck to wrap gently around your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as a reminder of his strength, his control. His thumb traces your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat that betrays your casual words.

"Interesting theory," he murmurs, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of your ear. "Should we test it?"

In one fluid movement, he lifts you onto the table, pasta and dinner forgotten. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them so he can step between them, bringing your bodies flush against each other. The wood is cold against your bare legs, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him.

"Kittens purr," he says, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes your stomach flip. "They play with their food."

His lips trail down your neck, teeth grazing lightly over your skin.

"They have claws," he continues, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of his shirt higher on your legs. "And they take what they want."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but still calculating, still watching your reactions with that intense focus.

"Still think I'm a kitten, Y/N?" he challenges, his thumbs tracing circles on your inner thighs. "Or should I show you exactly what kind of animal I really am?"

The pasta continues cooling on the plates beside you, dinner clearly taking a backseat to the heat building between you.

The shrill sound of the doorbell cuts through the charged atmosphere like a knife, jarring and unexpected. Harry's body tenses immediately, his hands stilling on your thighs as his posture shifts from predatory to alert in an instant.

"Expecting someone?" he asks, his voice suddenly cold, all traces of playfulness vanished.

Before you can even answer, he's already moving, one hand reaching beneath his jacket that hangs on your kitchen chair, extracting a matte black handgun you hadn't even realized was there.

"Harry, " you start, sliding off the table quickly.

He holds up a hand, silencing you with a single gesture. His entire demeanor has transformed. This isn't your Harry anymore, with his teasing smirks and possessive touches. This is the Harry that makes men disappear, that runs half the city's underground.

"Behind me," he instructs, voice leaving no room for argument.

The doorbell rings again, more insistent this time. Harry moves silently toward your apartment door, positioning himself at an angle where he won't be immediately visible when it opens. The gun hangs at his side, finger resting beside the trigger rather than on it, a small mercy that indicates he hasn't completely lost his composure.

He glances back at you, jaw tight. "Who would be coming here unannounced?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, the mood completely shattered. The food sits forgotten on the table as Harry waits for your answer, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to release.

"I'm not opening that door until I know who's on the other side," he says, voice low and dangerous. "So I suggest you start talking, angel."

The doorbell rings a third time, followed by an impatient knock.

"Harry, don't be ridiculous. This building is mostly for students. Just let me answer the door. it could be anyone"

His expression darkens at your dismissal of his concern, his jaw tightening visibly. The gun doesn't lower.

"Ridiculous?" he repeats, the word sharp with tension. "There's nothing ridiculous about security, Y/N."

The knocking continues, more insistent now. You move toward the door, but Harry's arm shoots out, blocking your path. His eyes, cold and calculating now, lock with yours.

"Just because you live in a building full of students doesn't mean everyone who comes knocking is harmless," he says, voice low and controlled. "You think my enemies don't know about you? You think they wouldn't use a fucking college kid as bait?"

You can see the genuine concern beneath his harsh exterior. The fear that isn't for himself but for you. It's one of those rare glimpses of vulnerability that he would never admit to.

"Fine," he concedes after a moment, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back, concealed but accessible. "Answer it. But I'm standing right here."

He positions himself just to the side of the door, where he won't be immediately visible but can intervene in seconds. His entire body remains tense, ready to spring into action.

"Go on then," he says with a nod toward the door, his voice softening just slightly. "But if it's someone you don't know, you close that door immediately. Understood?"

The knocking comes again, followed by a muffled voice that sounds young, possibly female. Harry watches you intently, waiting for your recognition or confusion, already calculating his next move before you've even reached for the doorknob.

As you open the door, Harry remains coiled and ready just out of sight. When you greet the visitor by name, some of the lethal tension leaves his body, though his hand still hovers near his lower back where the gun is concealed.

Standing in your doorway is Jess, petite with short blue hair, wearing pajama pants and a university sweatshirt. Her expression is apologetic.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," she says, fidgeting slightly with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "But I think your shower is leaking into my bathroom ceiling? There's like, a growing water stain and some dripping."

Her eyes flick past you, catching a glimpse of Harry's imposing figure lurking in your apartment. Her eyes widen slightly, clearly not expecting you to have company.

"Oh! I didn't realize you had someone over," she says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I can come back later if, "

Harry steps partially into view, his expression neutral but intimidating. He's tucked the gun away completely now, but his presence alone is enough to make Jess take a small step back.

"Plumbing issue?" he asks, his voice deceptively casual as he places a possessive hand on the small of your back. "I can take a look at it."

The offer is surprising, Harry Styles, mob boss, offering to check your leaky shower. But you recognize it for what it is: his way of controlling the situation, of ensuring no strangers need to enter your apartment.

Jess blinks rapidly, clearly intimidated by Harry's sudden appearance and intense gaze. "Um, yeah, it's just, there's water coming through my ceiling. From her bathroom, I think."

Harry nods once, decisive. "We'll handle it."

The 'we' doesn't escape your notice, nor does the way his fingers press slightly more firmly against your back, a silent reminder of his presence.

As soon as the door closes, you turn to face Harry, unable to resist pointing out his overreaction. His hand remains on your lower back, warm and possessive.

"See? Jessica from 1C didn't come to strangle me," you say with a teasing lilt to your voice.

Harry doesn't share your amusement. His eyes remain serious, that calculating look still present as he glances back at the door.

"This time," he replies flatly, finally removing his hand from your back to run it through his dark hair. "Blue hair, five-foot-nothing, no visible weapons. Could still be working for someone."

You start to laugh, thinking he's joking, but his expression remains deadly serious.

"You're not kidding," you realize aloud, your smile fading.

"No, I'm not," he confirms, moving past you toward your bathroom. "This building has shit security. Anyone could walk in. No doorman, no cameras in the hallways, locks a child could pick."

He pauses at the bathroom door, turning back to look at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

"You think I'm paranoid? Paranoid keeps people alive in my world, angel."

Without waiting for a response, he enters your small bathroom, kneeling to examine the plumbing under your sink. The sight is almost comical, Harry Styles, feared mob boss, inspecting your pipes in his expensive clothes.

"Your neighbor seems scared of her own shadow," He comments as he works, his voice echoing slightly in the tiled room. "Good. Scared people don't ask questions."

He glances up at you, standing in the doorway. "That pasta's getting cold. Might as well eat while I check this. Shower's probably just needs a new seal."

The casual domesticity of his words contrasts sharply with the gun still tucked into his waistband, visible now as his shirt rides up while he works.

You settle on the counter, plate balanced in your lap, watching as Harry returns from the bathroom. There's something fascinating about seeing him in this light, handling mundane problems with the same efficiency he probably applies to his more illicit activities.

You would have made an inappropriate joke about the sexy plumber seducing you but decided against it

"So... where did you learn to fix plumbing issues?" you ask, twirling pasta around your fork.

Harry grabs his own plate, but remains standing, leaning against the opposite counter. Something about him never quite relaxes enough to sit properly when he doesn't have to.

"When you live in the places I've lived," he says, taking a bite of pasta, "you either learn to fix things yourself or you live with them broken."

He chews thoughtfully, then adds: "Foster home number three. Pipes burst in winter. Foster father was too drunk to call someone, too broke to pay them if he did. I was eleven."

He delivers this information casually, as if discussing the weather rather than another fragment of his broken childhood. These rare glimpses into his past always come unexpectedly, dropped into conversation like they don't matter, when you both know they shaped everything he became.

"Your shower's fine," he continues, changing the subject abruptly. "It's the seal around the drain that's worn out. Easy fix. I'll have someone come tomorrow."

Before you can protest about handling it yourself, he adds: "Someone I trust. Who won't report back about the layout of your apartment or the fact that you sleep with your window unlocked."

His eyes meet yours over his plate, challenging you to argue.

"This pasta's decent," he says, the closest thing to a compliment your cooking is likely to receive. "Though the garlic bread's burnt on the bottom."

"Hey! You were on oven duty," you protest, pointing your fork accusingly at him. "I don't accept this defamation."

A hint of amusement crosses Harry's face, softening his features momentarily. He takes another bite of the pasta, eyebrow raised.

"I was distracted," he replies, his voice dropping lower. "Someone was walking around in my shirt, looking like that."

His eyes travel deliberately down your body, lingering on your bare legs dangling from the counter. The intensity in his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks despite yourself.

"Besides," he continues, setting his plate down and moving toward you, "I don't recall hearing any complaints about my performance in other areas."

He positions himself between your legs, hands resting on either side of your thighs on the counter. The casual intimacy of the position, him standing between your parted knees, your plate still balanced in your lap, feels both domestic and charged.

"Eat your dinner, angel," he instructs, voice gentler than before. "Then I'll take a proper look at that shower."

You take another bite, watching him over your fork.

"You know, normal boyfriends don't carry guns to dinner," you comment, unable to help yourself.

Harry's expression darkens slightly, though not with anger.

"Normal boyfriends don't have enemies who would put a bullet in their head for territory," he counters, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Or who would hurt what's theirs to send a message."

His thumb traces your cheekbone, the gesture at odds with his harsh words.

"If normal is what you want, " he starts, then stops himself, jaw tightening. "You knew what I was when you got into this, Y/N."

The rare use of your full name instead of a pet name underscores the seriousness of his statement.

"Kidding, kidding. God, no one can make a joke around here," you say with an exaggerated eye roll. "Eat," you command firmly.

Your teasing tone breaks through his serious demeanor, and Harry blinks in surprise as you shove a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Harry's eyes widen slightly at your boldness, but then something unexpected happens, he actually complies, chewing the pasta you've fed him. A reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he swallows.

"Demanding tonight, aren't we?" he says, but the tension has left his shoulders. He reaches for his own plate again, leaning against the counter beside you rather than caging you in.

There's a comfortable silence as you both eat, the earlier heaviness dissipating into something more relaxed. Harry glances at your mismatched plates, the cheap cutlery, the faded dish towel hanging from the oven door.

"You know," he says after a moment, his tone lighter, "when I was your age, I was eating cold pizza over a sink most nights. If I ate at all."

It's offered casually, not as a bid for sympathy but almost like an admission, that despite his criticisms of your apartment, he understands something about making do with what you have.

He takes another bite, then adds: "This is better."

The simple statement carries weight coming from him, Harry Styles doesn't give compliments easily, and rarely acknowledges when something is good in his life.

"Your neighbor's going to be telling everyone about the scary man in apartment 2C now," he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Might help with your building security, actually. No one will dare knock on your door."

He reaches over to steal a piece of garlic bread from your plate, the gesture surprisingly normal, almost playful.

You watch as Harry takes a bite of the stolen garlic bread, a small smile playing on your lips. There's something endearing about seeing him do something so ordinary as food theft, a glimpse of what might have been in another life.

"Hey, look at you now. At 27, you have three private chefs under your hand," you point out. "I'd say you've done well for yourself."

Harry chews thoughtfully, considering your words. There's a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps pride, perhaps something more complicated.

"Three chefs, two mansions, and enough enemies to fill a stadium," he replies with a wry twist to his mouth. "The American dream."

He sets his empty plate in the sink, turning to lean against the counter facing you. In the soft kitchen light, some of his sharp edges seem softer. Not gone, never gone, but less pronounced.

"Done well for myself," he repeats your words, testing them. "Depends on who you ask. My probation officer would disagree."

This is delivered with a hint of dark humor, you both know he hasn't had a probation officer in years. He's well beyond the reach of conventional law enforcement now.

"But yeah," he continues, surprising you with his candor, "from where I started? Could've gone much worse."

He reaches for your empty plate, taking it from your hands and placing it in the sink with his. The domestic gesture is at odds with the man you know he is outside these walls, but that contradiction is part of what drew you to him in the first place.

"You know what's strange?" he asks, turning back to you. "Having dinner in a normal apartment, with normal problems like leaky showers and burnt garlic bread. Sometimes I forget what that's like."

He doesn't say the rest, that you're his connection to a world he left behind long ago, a glimpse into an ordinary life he sacrificed for power and survival.

"Well, no matter how you got to where you are, I'm proud of you Harry. Truly," you say softly, meaning every word.

Your words hit him like a physical force, he actually stills, his hand freezing halfway through running it through his hair. Something vulnerable flashes across his face before he can mask it.

Harry looks at you for a long moment, his expression uncharacteristically open. When he speaks, his voice is rougher than usual.

"Proud," he repeats, as if testing how the word feels. "That's... that's not something I hear often."

“Well, now you’re hearing it from me” 

He moves closer to you again, but this time it's different, less predatory, more seeking. His hands find your waist, thumbs brushing against the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing.

"You're proud of a criminal," he says, but there's no bite to it, just a statement of fact. "A man who's done things that would make you run if you knew all of them."

His forehead drops to rest against yours, an unexpectedly tender gesture.

"You're something else, angel," he murmurs. "Looking at the devil and seeing something worth saving."

One hand leaves your waist to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone with surprising gentleness.

"I don't deserve it," he admits quietly. "But I'm selfish enough to take it anyway."

The confession hangs in the air between you, more honest than his usual carefully constructed responses. For a moment, he's not the feared mob boss or the dangerous criminal, he's just a man who never heard the words 'I'm proud of you' growing up.

"Contrary to whatever belief you have, it's normal for girlfriends to be proud of their boyfriends," you state matter-of-factly, reaching up to touch his face. "Okay? Doesn't matter for what."

Your words make him pull back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. The vulnerability is still there, raw and unfamiliar on his features.

Harry lets out a short laugh, but it's not entirely humorous.

"Normal girlfriends are proud of their boyfriends for getting promotions or running marathons," he says, his hand still cradling your face. "Not for successfully running three territories without starting a war. Not for, "

He cuts himself off, shaking his head slightly.

"Christ, Y/N," he breathes out. "The things you make me feel... they're dangerous. Make me weak."

Your eyes meet his, challenging.

"Is that what you think this is?" you ask softly. "Weakness?"

His thumb traces your bottom lip, his eyes following the movement.

"No," he admits finally. "It's the only thing that makes me feel fucking human anymore."

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again.

"But don't say you're proud of me," he murmurs. "Not when I'm the reason you have to check your car for bombs. Not when I'm why you can't tell your parents who you're dating. Not when, "

Your kiss silences his self-deprecating spiral, soft but insistent. Harry responds immediately, one hand sliding to the nape of your neck while the other grips your hip.

"Shut up," you murmur against his lips.

A low sound rumbles in his chest, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. When he pulls back slightly, his eyes are darker, but there's a hint of amusement in them.

"Telling me to shut up now?" he asks, his voice rough but lighter than before. "That's brave of you, angel."

His fingers thread through your hair, gentle despite his words.

"You're the only person who can get away with that, you know," he adds softly, something like wonder in his tone. "The only one who can tell me to shut up and live to tell about it."

You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"Lucky me," you tease, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

Harry's expression softens just slightly, that rare genuine smile tugging at his lips.

"No," he corrects, pulling you closer. "Lucky me."

His lips find yours again, this time with more intent, effectively ending any further discussion about worth or pride or danger. The pasta grows cold in the sink, forgotten as he loses himself in the one person who sees past his carefully constructed walls.

As you both finish loading the last dishes into your tiny dishwasher, there's a comfortable silence between you. Harry checks his phone, his expression shifting back to something more business-like.

"I need to go," he says, tucking the phone away. "Got a meeting I can't miss."

You try not to think about what kind of meeting requires his attention at this hour.

"Someone will be here tomorrow morning to fix that shower," he continues, shrugging on his jacket and checking that his gun is secure. "Don't let anyone in unless they give you the password."

"Let me guess," you say dryly, leaning against the counter. "The password is 'Harry Styles is the most humble man alive'?"

Harry's lips twitch as he adjusts his cuffs.

"Close. It's 'burnt garlic bread,'" he replies, stepping closer to you. "And they'll show proper ID. My people know the drill."

His hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek in what's become a familiar gesture.

"Lock the door behind me," he instructs, his tone serious despite your earlier teasing. "All of them. And for fuck's sake, close that window in your bedroom."

"Yes, sir," you mock salute, earning a warning look that holds more affection than heat.

He kisses you one last time, deep and thorough, like he's memorizing the taste of you.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he says against your lips before pulling away. "Stay safe, angel."

You follow him to the door, watching as he checks the hallway before stepping out.

"Harry?" you call softly before he can leave.

He turns, eyebrow raised.

"I'm still proud of you," you say with a small smile.

Something flashes across his face, too quick to catch, before he shakes his head slightly, that rare genuine smile making another appearance.

"Impossible woman," he mutters, but there's warmth in his voice. "Lock the door, Y/N."

You do as he asks, hearing his footsteps fade down the hallway, knowing that somewhere in the building, his security team is watching, making sure he leaves safely. It's just another normal night with your not-so-normal boyfriend.

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

A/N: What do we think of these two so far? Thought I’d start with something simple.

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19

[dreamauri]

Can I ask for another sub! Oscar? Receiving his award after finishing first place after the races

♪— 𝗠𝗬 𝗡𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘 sub!oscar piastri  x  girlfriend!reader ( smut ) fic summary . . . every win should be rewarded accordingly

( my master list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

CONTENT WARNING — ( +18 MDNI, pnv, overstim, needy oscar, sub oscar, top/dom reader, riding )

The door barely had time to click shut before you shoved Oscar inside, your fingers curling around the front of his race suit, dragging him into you for a heated kiss. He stumbled back, his breath catching as he collided with the couch, falling onto it with a soft grunt. You followed immediately, straddling his lap, hands splayed across his chest as you licked your lips, drinking in the way he looked at you—eyes dark with need, lips already slightly parted in anticipation.

“Fuck,” he whispered, barely above a breath.

You smirked, fingers toying with the zipper of his suit, dragging it down at an agonizing pace. "Such a good boy today,” you murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw. “Winning just for me."

His breath hitched when you nipped at his neck, rolling your hips against his. He was already half-hard, the heat between you unbearable. “You—you can’t say shit like that,” he exhaled, hands gripping your waist, unsure if he wanted to pull you closer or ground himself.

You laughed, tilting his chin up to make him look at you. "Why? Does it make you needy, baby?"

He groaned, hands clenching against your hips, his jaw tightening as you rolled against him again, teasing. You could feel how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for more, but he was holding back, trying to be patient, trying to last. You wouldn’t let him.

With practiced ease, you freed him from his suit, letting his breath hitch as your fingers curled around him, stroking slow and deliberate. His thighs trembled beneath you, his head falling back against the couch, his knuckles white where he gripped you.

"Fuck, Yn," he groaned, a delicious whimper breaking in his throat when you sunk down onto him, the heat of you making his body go taut beneath you.

You leaned in, kissing his forehead, his temple, before your hands braced against his chest and you started to move. His hands gripped your hips so tight you knew there'd be marks tomorrow, but you didn't care—if anything, you wanted them. His nails dug in deeper every time you rolled your hips just right, every time you clenched around him, making him choke on his moans.

"You're so fucking good for me," you praised, and Oscar let out a shuddering breath, his lashes fluttering as his hands slid up your back, holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

You could feel him getting closer, his body tensing, the way his breath was coming in shorter, more frantic gasps. You slowed down, smirking when he let out a desperate whine, chasing the friction.

"Not yet," you murmured, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. "Be good for me, baby."

He let out a strangled noise but nodded, swallowing hard. He was so fucking desperate to please you, to do as you said, and it only made you want him more.

You shifted, pushing him back into the couch, letting him take the lead but still guiding him, your hands in his hair, your lips murmuring orders against his skin. He followed each one, moving how you wanted, fucking into you slow and deep, shuddering every time you praised him.

But he was too lost in you—your body, your voice, your touch—he forgot himself, his rhythm stuttering, his breath breaking. "I—fuck, I can't—"

His face buried in your shoulder, a strangled moan breaking through him as he came, panting into your skin, shaking.

You tsked, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging gently to lift his head. "Too early," you murmured, tilting his chin up to make him look at you.

His face was flushed, eyes hazy, and he looked at you like a kicked puppy, the bottom half of his face pressed into your chest as he panted, still trying to catch his breath.

You sighed, unable to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that. "Lucky you're cute," you muttered, flipping him over in one quick movement.

Oscar gasped, his body jerking as you moved just a little, the overstimulation making his breath come in short, desperate gasps. His whole body twitched beneath you, a high-pitched whimper slipping through his lips as his hands clenched around you, nails digging in as if trying to stop the sensation.

“Yn—" he choked out, his voice wrecked, his body shaking.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead, brushing your fingers through his hair. "Shhh, baby," you murmured, holding him close, letting him rest against you. "You did so good for me."

You moved one more time, just to tease, and Oscar let out a gasping moan, his hips bucking up, his entire body shuddering beneath you.

You laughed, kissing the top of his head, feeling him melt into you, completely spent. "My number one," you whispered, and he let out a small, content sigh, nuzzling into your shoulder.

And maybe he'd won the race today—but you both knew who was really in control.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.

You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.

I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!

Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Those are cookies, Kyle.”

“It’s a biscuit.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”

“Your biscuit is a scone.”

“Oh my god,” you groan.

An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.

Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”

“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”

“But what is it?”

You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.

“That’s an aubergine.”

“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.

“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.

You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.

“Tell me again.”

Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”

He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t,” he affirms.

“Johnny.”

He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”

“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”

“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”

“What else?”

“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”

“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.

John Price

“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.

“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”

“Football,” he growls with annoyance.

It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.

John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”

“I know.”

“It’s a game with the boys.”

You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”

He sighs. “What is it called?”

You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.

“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

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@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[a-pute11as]

ibiza holiday - leila ouahabi & misa rodríguez

word count - 8.8k | summary - laia convinces her bestfriend that a group holiday with her friends would be a good idea, yet previous encounters lead to some interesting experiences. leila x misa x reader.

MDNI 18 + - 18+ themes, basically smut but not smut, probably an incredibly unrealistic holiday set up

“nenaaaa, come on it’ll be fun!” laia whined as she tugged on your shirt for a second time. the two of you were sitting in your shared apartment, having just finished training, you were trying to relax but clearly laia had other ideas. 

for the past few hours she had been trying to convince you to say yes to a girls' holiday to ibiza in the off-season, a tradition that had been going on for years between her and her friends and yet somehow you’d been invited, even when you barely knew anyone who was going.

you and laia had become inseparable incredibly quickly. the two of you had previous connections before laia made her move to arsenal, being invited to celebrate the champions league win with kiera and lucy meant you got to know a few of the barca girls over some dancing, a lot of drinks and a hangover breakfast. 

“laia these are your friends, not mine, you can’t just invite me because you’ll ‘miss’ me for a few weeks” you used finger quotes around the word ‘miss’, clearly emphasising how dramatic laia had been in her previous convincing. 

“no no, the girls invited you, you must’ve made a good impression on them” she said, wiggling her eyebrows as she spoke. 

“wait, which girls?” you asked hesitantly, narrowing your eyes in her direction.

“espera déjame pensar” she dazed off for a minute, using her hands to count the players before speaking the list aloud, “there is alexia, jenni, leila and misa” she smiled. (wait let me think)

“jesus that’s a lot of people, i barely know any of them” you shook your head firmly, her convincing clearly not working.

“joder, if alexia putellas asks you to go on holiday you do not say no!” laia tutted, shaking her head the same way you just did. 

you thought for a minute as your mind went through the list of people, “wait, you said leila?” you asked curiously, now considering the offer slightly more than before. 

“si, maybe she is the one who asked for you eh” a smirk flashing across her face as she teased you. 

“shut up asshole” you muttered, “i was just making sure i heard you right”. 

“do not lie english woman, you are thinking about when you fucked her at my birthday party!” she accused, pointing her finger at you.

you smacked her hand down, “it was literally just a kiss codi, and you were the one who wanted to set us up!” you accused back.

“only because both of you kept talking about finding each other attractive and i didn’t want to hear any more” she defended, the two of you half-shouting at each other as you spoke. 

you settled in your chair and folded your arms across your chest, “i have no regrets, anyways why is misa coming? i thought this was a barca thing?. 

“hm more like a spain thing, you haven’t met misa before right?” she questioned.

“well we have a little bit, it was weird, obviously i was trying to score but she kept saying things like ‘vale princesa’ or would touch my waist and my back during corners, or there would be really intense eye contact, even at the end of the game she came and talked to me and said it again” you explained, “and lucy said she was looking me up and down but i don’t really believe her”.

you watched as laia’s smirk reappeared, “esto es clasico misa, she wants you”.

“what?” your eyes widened in shock, “that’s not true” you shook your head adamantly. 

“si, i know what she’s like, no wonder she was asking questions about you the last time i saw her”

“the night of the game she followed me on instagram and then liked a picture from 6 months ago and obviously unliked it, but she always likes my pictures now, sometimes she even comments” you shrugged. 

laia laughed at your oblivion, “you’re joking right?”, you shook your head, “nena you cannot be serious, she’s coming after you”.

“maybe she wants to be friends” you were trying to play the devil’s advocate, but you knew the heart eyes, the ‘guapaaaa’ or the ‘quiero’ she had commented on your instagram posts probably weren’t the friendliest. 

“ah si si, friends with benefits” she winked before getting up and disappearing to her bedroom, leaving you sitting on the sofa contemplating the choice you had to make. 

it wasn’t long before you heard multiple spanish voices coming from laia’s room, presumably the same ones you had just been talking about. whilst laia has been teaching you spanish throughout your time of living together, the words were far too fast for you to possibly translate.

pushing that to the back of your mind you made your way to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of you, you had your music on and were practically dancing around the kitchen as you cooked.

you spun round to see laia holding her phone in your direction, laughter spilling out of her mouth, immediately stopping in your tracks you nearly dropped the bowl in your hand. 

“baila bebe baila” a voice from her phone shouted, your face flushing red immediately as the others cheered along. 

“laia i fucking hate you” you stuck up your middle finger with your free hand before turning back to the dinner you were half way through. 

“now she won’t say yes to coming with us” a familiar voice echoed from the phone. 

she made her way over to you, putting her phone on the counter against the wall so you were now in the frame and unable to avoid it. you were met with the faces of alexia, jenni, misa and leila who were beaming in your direction. 

“hola chica, what are you making?” jenni spoke, a grin covering her face. you had met jenni a few times, mostly on an international stage but a few times at mutual friends birthday celebrations. 

“laia asked for pasta so i made it with chicken and mozzarella” you shared her smile as you continued stirring the pasta. 

“ahh so you’re wifey material then” misa smirked causing you to go slightly flustered. 

“deja de coquetear con ella” leila responded to misa before turning her attention to you, “how are you carino? it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other”. (stop flirting with her)

“i’m good, very excited to have some time off soon” you answered, “how are you?”

“very good too, are you going to join us on the trip?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye as she spoke. 

“joder, you were meant to let alexia ask” laia interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“laia are you trying to intimidate me into saying yes?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow as you faced her. 

she held her hand to her heart as she mocked pain, “nena i would never do that to you”.

“do not lie to her, she wanted me to ask you because she thinks you would be more likely to say yes” alexia explained, you reached over slapping laia on the arm as she tried and failed to move out of your reach. 

“you’re an asshole, codi” rolling your eyes at her, as you began plating dinner for the two of you. 

“si ella es pero, what is your answer?” alexia asked, smiling sweetly whilst her eyes felt like they were staring into your soul, the power the best player in the world had even off the pitch was crazy. 

you ran your hand through your hair as you stood thinking about the offer, it was dead silent and you could feel every set of eyes on you as you tried as quickly as you could to weigh out the pros and cons, but in reality, what's the worst that could happen?

“well i guess if it’s okay with you guys i’d be down for it” you said causally, maybe a part of you was actually quite excited about it.

the spaniards erupted with cheers as laia wrapped her arms around you, picking you up and spinning you around as she cheered, “buena elección mi mejor amiga”. (good choice my best friend)

you laughed as she continued spinning you around, clearly very happy that you had given into her persuasion tactic of getting alexia to ask you. she put you down after a minute or two, picking up the phone and running back into her bedroom as you set the table for the two of you. 

sitting down, you began eating as you waited for laia who seemed to be saying goodbye to her friends when your phone lit up. 

instagram notification - marisabel_rguez : see you soon princesa 

a small smile automatically appeared on your face as you read her message, your heart beat a little faster as you felt the butterflies dance around your stomach. spending a week with misa wearing little clothing definitely wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and by the way your thighs tensed together at that thought, you were clearly more excited than you thought. 

your fingers moved quickly as you typed your response, carefully crafting a message that would come off as a little flirty but still casual. 

you : could’ve been sooner if you decided to play in england

satisfied with your response, you turned off your phone and continued eating. laia made her way back out to you, sitting across from you at the table with a smirk.

“why are you making that face” scrunching your nose at the suspicious look she was wearing. 

“nada nada, just this will be very fun” she shrugged, her smirk only growing, “and we are going on the plane with leila and meeting alexia, jenni and misa there”.

you tried to contain your smile as you were reminded that leila was joining you, but laia could read you like a book, “hm sounds fun”.

“oye you’re just going to flirt with all my friends whilst we are there and forget about me” she huffed, shaking her head as if she wasn’t the one who has encouraged it multiple times over the course of your friendship. 

“don’t be so dramatic, it’s not all of your friends” you rolled your eyes and her dramaticness “just one or two” you mumbled under your breath. 

your phone lit up again, this time a message from leila catching your eyes. 

instagram notification - leilaouahabi : the highlight of this trip will be seeing you in a bikini

before you could verbally react, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at her comment, but the thought of seeing her in a bikini too had you clenching your thighs yet again. a feeling that was starting to become far too familiar. 

“you okay nena?” your bestfriend asked, curiously peeking at your phone as her eyes widened slightly at leila’s forwardness. 

“mhm” you nodded as your whole body continued to heat up, “didn’t realise leila was so bold”.

she nodded slowly as she mumbled, “that’s not even the worst i’ve heard from her”

laia’s words piqued your interest, you raised your eyebrow at her words “meaning?”

“let’s say she has used some descriptive words to describe how she feels about you” you were slightly stunned into silence as you began pushing your food around your plate, not in a bad way, your mind had just become very distracted.

you picked up your phone, not leaving much time for her message to simmer before you wanted to reply, probably coming off as slightly desperate. 

you : i’ll pack my best one for you, it won’t be city blue though 

you were about to put the phone done but you immediately saw the three dots appear to indicate she was typing.

instagram notification - leilaouahabi : i don’t think i can manage with arsenal red, it’ll be better idea to just keep it off

slightly choking on the food you were trying to eat, you turned your phone off and flipped it so it was face down on the table. 

“i’m not even going to ask” laia smiled awkwardly as the two of you continued eating, the text leila had sent you in the back of your mind. 

after having 3 breakdowns about packing, 2 last minute trips to the shops for things you forgot and 1 slightly shouting match with laia over where she had put your gym clothes after emptying the washing machine, you were finally on the plane and somehow you had let laia coax you into the middle seat. the seat in between laia and leila. what could go wrong?

with laia fast asleep on one side of you and leila clutching onto your hand at every small jolt of the plane, it was better than expected. you and leila had the opportunity to actually talk to each other away from the football field, the same bold footballer that had told you she’d rather see you naked than in red wasn’t as brave in person, well not when you were 30,000 feet in the air. 

all the netflix movies you had downloaded for your flight became useless as the two of you sat talking about absolutely everything.

“where’s your favourite place?” you asked in an attempt to distract leila, as she turned your hand white from the grip she had on it as the plane went through a slightly bumpy patch. 

“home but in catalonia, not manchester” she clarified with a small anxious smile, her hand now loosening on yours as started brushing her thumb back and forth against your fingers. 

“do you miss being there? it must be difficult to live so far away from your family” you acknowledged, looking down at the patterns she was now drawing on your hand that was relaxing both you and her. 

“si, mucho” she nodded, “but for my career, it made sense to come to manchester, i needed a new challenge, so i couldn’t say no to manchester city”.

“maybe i should’ve tempted you with arsenal” you smirked, your team's rivalry had a way of appearing in every conversation, “you’d look better in red” she looked incredible in everything she wore but when she wore the red kit for spain she looked incredible. 

she shook her head adamantly, “no nena, you would look much better in city blue, it would make the blue in your eyes pop” she winked.

“well you’re going to have to put up with my very very red bikini” you smiled sweetly.

her tongue flicked over her lips as she cocked her head slightly, a smirk appearing on her face “we both know how i feel about that”.

“shut up” your cheeks instantly flushed a deep red colour as leila laughed at your reaction before changing the conversation back to something that was semi-normal. 

the three of you made your way to the villa you’d be staying at for the next few days, laia had offered to drive and of course leila dibs the front seat due to her ‘long legs’ yet you were left in the back to overthink exactly how this holiday was about to play out. 

you were about to spend a lot of time with two incredibly attractive footballers that apparently had the hots for you in very minimal clothing, your mind was racing in every direction possible.

the two girls in the front had spanish tunes blaring, the both of them singing along to the words that you could barely understand, but you couldn’t help but smile at their pure joy. maybe this was a better picture of what your week was going to look like, rather than the intense sexual tension you were imagining. 

“la guiri is here!” jenni cheered as the three of you walked through the door. 

you turned to laia with a questioning look, “oh it’s just a word for like an annoying tourist, but she means it in a loving way” she explained. 

immediately you were enveloped into a hug from jenni, followed by alexia as they greeted you before asking how your flight had been. you’d be lying if you said you were looking around for misa, the real madrid player not being with her friends as you arrived, but you held your questions. 

it didn’t take long for the four of them to naturally switch into spanish, you definitely couldn’t blame them though, they had invited you onto their holiday so the least you could do was let them speak in the way that was most comfortable for them.

“do you know what they’re saying?” you jumped out of your seat slightly as you turned to face the voice. 

it took you a second to register the sight in front of you, looking down at you was misa in what you assumed was her workout clothes which only consisted of a sports bra and shorts. her hair was slightly damp and there was a slight sheen to her tanned skin that made it look like she was glowing. her abs were on full display, and you were unashamedly looking. 

she interrupted your blatant staring with a cough, forcing your eyes back up to hers. “what did you say?” you asked awkwardly, not even apologising for the way you were eye-fucking her. 

“the spanish, do you understand it?” she reiterated, a cocky smirk now plastered onto her face, pleased with the reaction you’d give her.

“nope, laia has only taught me the basics, and they speak so fast so” you shrugged, briefly looking back over at the four friends before meeting misa’s eyes again. 

“so do i get a hug too?” her head tilting slightly as she smiled down at you.

you nodded, matching her smile, standing up as she made her way in front of you. you held your hand out as she pulled you to your feet, your hands then wrapped around her neck whilst hers snaked around your waist and rested on your lower back. 

it was only for a few seconds but you easily relaxed into her arms. her fingers drew circles on the exposed skin of your back making you melt further into her embrace. even after being in the gym, she smelt incredible, you couldn’t help but fall deeper into bliss.

you were interrupted by a whistle, the two of you breaking apart and facing the direction it had come from. jenni, alexia and laia had wide grins on their face whilst leila had a tense look across her face and her arms were crossed against her chest. 

“please do not fuck infront of us” jenni smiled, earning a playful smack from alexia. 

“in misa’s dreams” leila muttered, refusing to make eye contact with you but sending a deathly glare in misa’s direction. 

you were hesitant to question leila’s tone, worried you had misheard what the spaniard had said and somehow created a sense of jealousy in your head, instead opting to go to your assigned room to unpack your things and settle for a bit.

it didn’t take you long to unpack, probably 20 minutes or so, and you were eager to get yourself out into the sun. opting for the bright red bikini you packed, you slipped on your coverup and made your way outside to the pool. as you walked through the house you noticed it had become eerily quiet, none of them were sitting on the sofas as they previously were, yet there was a faint buzz of spanish music coming from the pool. 

slipping out of the doors, you were met with a tanned dark haired woman spread across a sunlonger, dressed in a white bikini that left little to the imagination with the addition of a black cap that presumably was keeping the sun out of her face. as you got closer you noticed the tattoos that were littered along her arms, recognising that they belong to the man city player that had joined you. part of you felt rude for interrupting her when she looked so at peace, it was as if it she was in her natural element, but 

“hola” you hummed, placing your things down on the adjacent sunlounger as you began to take off your coverup. 

she jumped slightly, her alarmed expression switching to a sweet smile as she looked up at you “oye carino you scared me”

you giggled at her response, “where did everyone go?” you asked, laying out your towel before planting yourself on the sunlounger. 

“hm i think they went to the shops for food but i offered to stay with you instead” her smile now turning into a smirk that was somewhat cheeky but also really cheesy.

you rolled your eyes playfully at her words, “how kind of you ouahabi, i’ll remember that next time one of your tackles knocks me off my feet”.

“i’m known for sweeping girls off their feet, sometimes literally” she laughed with a small shrug. 

you knew leila was bold, laia had told you a few stories about the things she’d do on nights out when she first peaked your interest, but you didn’t know just how bold she was until the dm’s she had sent you. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy this side of her, it was relaxed and cheeky and you liked it a lot. 

a comfortable silence fell amongst the two of you, leila softly singing the tune of the music that was playing from speaker she had placed next to her sunlonger. in your moments of relaxation you had forgotten about applying any form of sun protection on your back, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering the sun that was beating down on you. 

gaining some courage you spoke up, now propping yourself on your elbows, “leila, can you put some suncream on my back? i was going to ask laia but she obviously disappeared”

you could physically see the gulp as her mouth parted slightly, you waited for an answer, one of your eyebrows raising slightly as you questioned her reluctance. “if not it’s okay” you added, worried you had made her somewhat uncomfortable. 

her eyes widened at your words as she sat up quickly, “no no” she cleared her throat, “of course i can, i was just uh.. translating what you said in my head” a nervous smile on her face as her legs moved to the side of her sunlounger signalling you to turn your back to her. 

moving your hair to your shoulder, you shuffled back, handing her the suncream over your shoulder, it took a couple seconds longer than you anticipated for the cool lotion. as her hands met your back a shiver ran down your spine. her hands moved in slow, firm strokes, drawing patterns in a way that was soothing and methodical. you caught your eyes closing for a moment as you were lulled into a state of relaxation. 

reluctantly her hands were removed from your back, forcing your eyes to open in the sad realisation that the moment you were sharing was over. 

“thank you” you mumbled, shuffling yourself until you were laying back on the sunlounger, in your original position. 

as you got comfortable, the only thing on your mind was the feeling of leila’s hands against your skin, to you it felt intimate, as if the two of you had a moment that held some kind of meaning, but her initial hesitance had you questioning if she felt the same. maybe she wasn’t as bold as you initially anticipated. 

some more time passed in which comfortable silence fell back between the two of you, your eyes closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the sun allowing you to relax as much as possible. it wasn’t until you heard shuffling next to you that your eyes peaked open, your eyesight drifted to leila who was now standing at the end of her sunlounger, yet her eyes were firmly planted on you. 

from the corner of your eye, you watched as her eyes travelled up and down your body, her tongue dragging across her bottom lip before catching her lip between her teeth for a second, completely unaware of your eyes on her. the way she looked at you was predatory, you felt as if you were sinking into your chair a little more every second that her eyes were locked onto you. it was as if you were hers to use as she pleased, and you were more than okay with it. 

your eyes finally locked with hers. her eyes instantly widened as if she was a deer in headlights.

“i’m going to cool down in the pool” she spoke, excusing herself quickly before submerging herself in the pool within seconds. 

your gaze was fixed on her as her head popped out of the water, she lifted her hands, fingers sliding through the wet strands in a slow and effortless way, the sunlight reflecting off of her dark hair which made her look as if she was straight from the gods. it had your thighs clenching together for any form of friction. 

you were quickly snapped out of your daze from jenni cannonballing into the pool with a scream, causing a large splash to fly in your direction. 

you let out a sharp gasp, “jesus jenni, im soaked”, water droplets dripping down your half bare body.

“surprised to hear jenni’s name in that sentence and not misa’s or leila’s” laia said, emerging from the doors of the house to the pool area. 

“i hate you so much” you squinted your eyes in her direction, as you wiped the water from your arms. 

“you might as well get in the pool now too” laia laughed, placing her stuff next to you. 

her close proximity was all the invitation you needed. standing up quickly, you wrapped yourself around her, pressing your soaked body against her dry clothes.

“get off asshole” laia half-cried, squirming as she tried to pry your arms off, but she wasn’t quite strong enough.

“nope, this is what you get” you only tightened your grip, rocking her side to side as she continued to struggle.

when she finally stilled, you let go, stepping back with a satisfied and incredibly cocky grin. 

laia narrowed her eyes, “you’re going to regret that, estúpida” she lunged for you, causing you to instinctively took a few hurried steps back, only to collide with something solid.

before you could react, strong arms wrapped around you, effortlessly lifting you off the ground.

“lo siento princesa, time for a swim!” a familiar voice teased behind you. of course it was misa. 

your heart dropped as she carried you to the edge of the pool, your kicks and desperate pushes doing nothing against her ridiculous strength “misa don’t do it” you yelped.

she hummed in amusement, “hmm but you’d look so pretty wet” her voice dripped with smugness, you could practically hear the smirk on her face. 

before you could protest any further, you were airborne then plunged into the cold water with a splash. 

the rest of the day was spent relaxing, taking in the beautiful ibiza sun whilst trying your best to not get too burned, something the spanairds had already teased you about. you didn’t have any real plans for your first day on holiday, opting to take it slow with a few excursions scattered over your week's holiday. 

dinner was relatively simple, laia decided to take charge in the kitchen to avoid any food poisoning yet it was impossible to avoid the bickering that happened between misa and laia about what was being cooked and how laia was doing it ‘wrong’. a quick google search proved that laia was in fact doing it right and misa had just seen a tiktok hack that didn’t actually work. leila attempted to reason with misa before it got to the google search but misa was set in the opinion, jenni and alexia ended up staying out of it, choosing to watch the two argue whilst laughing under their breath.

you had a relatively early night, choosing to miss out on another round of drinks and yet another argument about who had the right uno rules. spoiler alert - it was you. but you had a plan for tomorrow ; gym in the morning and a boat trip for most of the day.

waking up you felt refreshed, the sun always made you feel like a brand new person, which was the perfect mood to be in for a holiday gym session. 

you got changed into a pair of your arsenal shorts and a sports bra, grabbing a towel and some water, before making your way to the gym attached to your villa. 

familiar songs made their way from the gym, you were shocked someone had made their way to the gym before you, but you were on holiday with some of the biggest footballers in the world, what else did you expect. 

opening the door you were met with misa, dressed in black shorts and a white sports bra, her hair had been thrown on top of her head into a messy bun, yet she looked incredible. misa was effortlessly pretty, she could’ve been dragged through a bush and she’d still come out looking out of this world. 

you paused at the door as you watched her body move, she seemed to be adding weights to a bar in front of the mirror. as she picked up the large circular weights, the muscles in her arms instantly became more defined.

the sound of a weight dropping snapped you out of your thoughts which had been running wild, misa turned round, meeting your presence with a smile. 

“beunas dias princesa, how did you sleep?” she asked, now standing up straight to meet your eyeline.

“good morning” you chirped, now walking into the area, placing your things down on the bench, “i slept really good, how did you sleep?”

“mine was good, i went to bed pretty soon after you did” she explained, you couldn’t tell if she was hinting that your lack of presence had sent her to bed early even when she was still surrounded by her close friends. “do you want to workout together?” she added.

you nodded in agreement, gathering your hair in your hands to scoop it back into a low bun “don’t go easy on me”

“i wasn’t planning to. but if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll let you catch your breath” yet again, her voice was laced with a pure cocky attitude, but this time you were going to rise to her level. 

you raised a brow, smirking. "oh, misa, i didn’t know you liked hearing me beg. should i be concerned?"

she leaned in slightly, you were met with an intoxicating scent of perfume that had your brain malfunctioning for a second, “only if you’re not going to”.

you bit your lip, holding her gaze. "guess you’ll just have to work for it, then." you left her standing there with a stupid grin on her face as you brushed past her to begin your warm up. 

“are you going to keep standing there like an idiot or come and warm up?” you questioned, looking at her from over your shoulder. her eyebrows slightly furrowed as if she was surprised with your newfound attitude towards her, but the small smile that appeared had you thinking she was a fan of it. 

the two of you bounced off each other throughout the hour workout, making stupid jokes but also having normal everyday conversations that had you learning much more about her than you thought this trip would reveal. of course there was still an underlying flirty attitude to both of your words, but you genuinely enjoyed getting to know misa even with the cocky smirk she had on her face as she watched you squat. 

towards the end of your work out, you were both starting to get slightly out of breath, you had been pushing each other in slight competition as you completed each of your sets. you made your way over to the bench where you had previously dropped your stuff, hoping to catch your breath. 

but that plan was quickly interrupted when misa casually plopped down on a nearby bench, leaning back with her arms stretched behind her, taking slow, deliberate breaths. you couldn’t help but watch as her chest rose and fell with each breath, the movement captivating. the glistening sheen of sweat on her skin caught the light, making every shift of her muscles more defined. after a moment, she shifted, leaning forward with her arms now resting on her thighs, still drawing in deep, steady breaths. you couldn’t look away. 

you couldn’t tell how long your gaze had been fixed on her, it felt physically impossible to avert your eyes in any direction when the sight in front of you felt like an art piece. yet it was probably affecting you more than you realised as a heat between your legs grew and your heart rate picked up. 

that’s when her eyes found yours, her classic smirk quickly appearing on her face, “te gusta lo que ves?” she asked, a cocky head tilt matching her smirk. 

you nodded without realising what you had down you had earnt an eyebrow raise from misa, your eyes widened as you quickly shock your head “i uh i’m going to shower bye” you spoke so quickly you were sure she didn’t fully understand, but you didn’t give her the chance to ask as you darted out of the room. 

after showering and getting ready for the day you tried to form some kind of plan of how you were going to approach the day. both leila and misa were sending you signals, yet you weren’t sure where it was going beyond those signals. considering you were about to spend the rest of the day on a boat in the mediterranean sea with plenty of alcohol, you needed some kind of game plan. 

your mental planning was interrupted as laia burst through the door, announcing her arrival with a very dramatic good morning before she dropped a bomb, “i heard what happened this morning”.

automatically your jaw dropped, “what the fuck”.

“i can’t believe you basically undressed her with your eyes, you should have fucked her” she giggled, poking her fingers into your arms causing you to swat her hand away. 

“laia shut up incase they can hear you” you hissed, “i couldn’t help it, she’s been flirting with me this whole time and the way she looked in the gym was just… i have no words for it” you tired to justify your actions but honestly you were just babbling. 

“clearly both misa and leila want to fuck you, so what are you going to do? fuck them both at the same time?” she spoke as if it was an outrageous idea, yet it had your brain thinking, which must’ve been obvious by your face, “oh my god you’re going to fuck them at the same time!”

“that’s not what i was thinking, you asshole” you muttered, your cheeks glowing red at the thought, “they don’t feel like that, you’re making it serious, it’s obviously just fun” you shook your head adamantly. 

“mhm that’s not what i’ve heard, they sai-” laia started to explain before being cut off by the sound of jenni’s voice echoing through the halls.

“laia, is the guiri ready?” jenni shouted. 

“tell her to remember her suncream and hurry up” alexia shouted shortly after her. 

you grabbed your bag that you had filled with all your essentials, especially your suncream, and walked towards the door, realising laia hadn’t followed your lead you turned back to see her sat on the edge of your bed with her mouth still slightly open as if she was about to say something. “are you coming?” you asked.

she snapped out of her gaze, “yes yes im ready”, pushing her up as she followed you out the door. 

it was a short walk to the boat, one that had been privately rented by alexia and somehow jenni had the right qualification to drive it which surprised you more than you’d like to admit and had you looking for the life jackets as soon as your foot stepped onto the boat.

it didn’t take long for the boat to be anchored in a beautiful cove that looked like something out of brochure. you were surrounded by beautiful cliffs, water which was so blue you could see the fishes swimming and a small beach of perfect white sand. it felt like a paradise away from the rest of the world, one that you very much enjoyed being in. 

you were laid on a towel at the front of the boat, sunglasses shielding your eyes as you tried to stay focused on the book you had bought with you. the sun was beaming down on you, mixing with the bright orange bikini you had decided on wearing. it was lighting up your skin as if it glowed, a sight which had both leila and misa’s eyes drifting across your body. 

“carino would you like a drink?” leila asked, causing you to look up from your book. she stood in front of you, shielding your eyes momentarily as the sun lit up around her. 

“mmm yes please” you practically moaned at the thought of a cold drink helping you cool down. 

your reaction had leila’s eyes wide as a grin appeared on her face, “if i knew that was how to make you moan i would’ve said it a lot sooner”.

“oh you wish it was that easy ouahabi, surprise me with your choice of drink” you smiled sweetly, causing leila to turn on her heels as she walked over to the makeshift kitchen in the shaded area of the boat. 

she made her way back in a few minutes, causing you to pop yourself up on your elbows as she knelt down to you on the floor, “try” she smiled, pushing the glass into your awaiting hand. 

you held the drink to your lips, the condensation on the glass slowly dripping onto your chest as you took a sip, your mouth quickly overwhelmed with a cool tropical flavour followed by the hint of an alcohol you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“leila this is delicious” you complimented, savouring the taste on your lips, “where did you learn to do this?”.

“i’m always on drinks duty when we have parties or celebrations” she shrugged smugly. 

you giggle at her, the way she spoke was so casual but you could tell she was proud of the mixologist title she had been given. she got herself comfortable on the floor next to you, her legs now crossed as she sat with you. you continued sipping on your drink as she told you some of her favourite recipes, you admired the way she spoke, it had an incredibly cheesy grin across your face. 

you must've sat there for a while as the conversation naturally drifted to the other plans you had for the off season as your drink had become empty and your head had a slight buzz to it. you were sure the drink didn’t contain a lot of alcohol but as an athlete you very rarely drank so when you did your tolerance was zero. 

“having fun?” a voice questioned, you craned your neck upwards to see a very wet misa in front of you.

“misa!” you smiled, happy with her presence but even more thrilled by the incredibly sexy sight that was standing right in front of you, “did you go for a swim?”.

“siii, it was beautiful, but not as beautiful as you” she winked, whilst it was incredibly cheesy, you couldn’t help but be a little bit affected by it as your cheeks heated up, “the others are still on the beach”. 

misa sat with the three of you, conversation flowing effortlessly, as if you’d all been friends for years. there was an ease to it, but your focus kept flickering elsewhere. you couldn’t ignore the way misa’s hand inched closer to your thigh, her confidence growing with every passing moment. your eyebrow lifted slightly at her boldness, but you didn’t move away.

leila had excused herself to refill your drink allowing misa to take full advantage of the opportunity of having you alone for a few minutes. her fingers ghosted over your outer thigh, tracing lazy swirls against your skin. the sensation was subtle but impossible to ignore, sending a warmth through you that you tried to suppress. without making it obvious, you shifted slightly, searching for some kind of friction without the embarrassment of pressing your thighs together too openly.

misa noticed. of course she did. her gaze flickered to yours, amusement dancing behind her dark eyes, an innocent smile curving her lips.

"¿qué?" she asked, lifting her free hand to run her fingers through her hair, a simple movement, yet undeniably sexy.

"nada," you muttered, a shiver running up your spine, making your back arch ever so slightly under her touch. despite the cool breeze, your body was burning.

she chuckled, her fingers pressing just a bit harder against your thigh. "princesa, i’ve barely touched you, and you’re already arching your back?" the innocence in her smile faded into something more knowing, a smirk tugging at her lips.

you shook your head quickly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing exactly how easily she was unraveling you. "it was just a cold shiver… from the, uh, wind," you stammered, though you didn’t even believe your own excuse.

misa’s smirk deepened. "of course, amor. very strange, though, since you’re the only one who felt it." she shrugged, her fingers sliding a little higher, creeping toward your inner thigh. she squeezed lightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. "so this isn’t affecting you at all, then?"

you shook your head, lips pressed together in a weak attempt to maintain composure. speaking would only make it worse.

she studied you for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but before she could push you any further, leila dropped back into her seat beside you.

"here’s your drink!" she grinned, handing it to you.

you took it without hesitation, gulping it down like it was your only lifeline, hoping somehow that the cold liquid would cool the heat surging through you. 

the two spaniards simply laughed at your quick action, “debiste haberla visto, esto va a ser muy fácil” misa spoke proudly, but the spanish was far too advanced and fast for you to understand anything. (you should have seen her, this is going to be so easy)

“mi turno ahora” leila matched misa’s energy, whilst your spanish wasn’t up to their level, you could definitely tell what she meant. (my turn now)

your eyes flickered between the two of them, unsure of what to say or do, completely at their mercy, not that you minded. lying between them, you felt like a toy for them to play with, and the thought alone sent a thrill through you.

leila reached out, her fingers curling around a strand of your hair, twirling it idly before tucking it behind your ear. the simple touch sent warmth down your spine, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into her hand, craving more. but just as quickly as she granted it, she took it away, her fingers drifting lower.

she traced a slow path from your shoulder, her touch featherlight as it skimmed down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the center of your chest. her hand lingered there for a moment, just long enough to make your breath hitch, before continuing downwards. the soft brush of her fingertips dipped between your breasts, teasingly tugging at the fabric of your bikini top as they passed.

what started as delicate touches turned into something more as her entire palm flattened against your stomach, stopping just before your waistband. every movement set your skin ablaze, the anticipation burning through you as her touch took over your skin. you hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath, too caught up in the way her touch mapped out your body.

something had flipped in leila, her newfound confidence a stark difference from the same person that was stuttering over putting suncream on your back. 

she removed her hand, snapping you out of the bliss that she had effortlessly put you in, her lip tugging at her bottom lip as she looked at you, “you were right misa, she’s so easy”.

you swallowed hard as they talked about you as if you weren’t there, your legs now firmly clenching together as all efforts to withhold the obvious physical effect they had on you had disappeared. 

“easy?” you questioned leila’s words, “i’m not easy” you huffed, somewhat frustrated at the way they perceived you as if you hadn’t turned to putty in their hands in front of their. 

“cari, you’re practically begging for us to touch you, but of course you aren’t easy” leila mocked, pouting at you as she looked down on you.

you scoffed, shifting slightly as if that would somehow ease the tension thrumming through your body. "i don’t beg" you repeated, though the breathiness in your voice betrayed you. "i just know what i want."

leila’s smirk didn’t waver as she dragged a slow finger down your arm. "oh, cariño," she murmured, tilting her head.

"and what is it you want, hmm?" misa spoke, having your head snapping in her direction.

your lips parted, but no words came out at first, your breath unsteady under their piercing gazes. you shifted slightly, heart pounding as your fingers curled into your lap.

"i… i don’t know," you admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper. your body, however, told a different story, silently pleading for them to decide for you.

you watched as they shared a look, “i think we can figure that out” misa hummed in response. 

“we definitely can” leila confirmed with a soft nod, “after we get back to the villa” she added, shattering the hope that had been building in finally getting what you wanted after all the relentless build up you’d been experiencing. 

“why after?” your eyes gave her a pleading look, trying to convince her with just a look was probably hopeless, but it was worth a short. 

“you want us to fuck you on a boat for our friends to see? very brave of you princesa” misa purred, her hand reaching out and tugging on the string of your bikini bottoms ever so slightly. 

your eyes widened as you shook your head slightly, whilst the idea of them touching you here and now was incredible, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand the endless teasing from your best friend if she saw how you were about to hand yourself over to them on a plate. 

“that’s what we thought” leila smiled, giving the signal to misa to pull on the string, causing it to fall next to you before you gasped and scrambled to retie it, worried that your friends would reappear on the boat any second. 

the two of them stood up, almost as if it was planned, “we are going to eat, are you joining us?” leila asked, nudging her head to the selection of fresh fruit and other snacks that had been catered as per alexia’s request. 

you shook your head politely as you stood to your feet, “i think i need to go for a swim and cool off”.

making your way to the back of the boat, you dived in without hesitation, the water being a desperate relief from the heat still coursing through your body. you wasted no time swimming towards the shore, where jenni and laia had decided that burying alexia in the sand was their newest form of entertainment.

most of the time on the beach was spent in your determined attempt to build a sandcastle without a bucket. every time you took your hands away, laia took it as an open invitation to knock it down, grinning as she ruined your progress. after the third time, you grabbed her ankle, sending her tumbling into the sand with a surprised yelp. the three of you sat giggly as the now incredibly sandy laia sent daggers in your direction.

eventually, the four of you made your way back to the boat, deciding it was time to return to the villa and unwind before getting ready for dinner. the day had been long, the sun still warm against your skin, but the lingering saltwater clinging to your body left you desperate for a shower. 

the moment you stepped inside, you beelined for the bathroom, grateful that your room had an ensuite, no waiting, no interruptions, just the promise of fresh, clean skin. time seemed to slip away as you stood under the spray, letting the heat soothe your muscles and refresh you entirely. by the time you stepped out, your body felt lighter, your damp hair falling in waves down your back as you pulled on a pair of soft shorts and a sports bra to lounge in.

swinging the bathroom door open, you were stopped in your tracks. 

leila and misa were sitting at the edge of your bed, their gazes locked onto you with knowing smirks. your stomach flipped as the memory of what had happened on the boat, the promise from the boat rushing back to your mind.

"you didn’t forget, did you, princesa?" misa’s voice was smooth yet firm, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed you. the authority in her tone sent goosebumps racing up your arms, a shiver rolling through you as you processed what was happening.

you swallowed, quickly shaking your head. "no, of course not”, you lied. between playing on the beach and the trance-like calm of your shower, the promise they had made had momentarily slipped your mind. however the dull ache between your legs made it clear, it hadn’t forgotten for a second.

leila’s lips curled into a smirk, tilting her head slightly. "of course, amor," she murmured, her voice softer than misa’s but no less commanding. "come here."

the contrast of your predictions between them had your head spinning. leila, the one who would hold you, whisper soft praises against your skin, while misa was rougher, teasing, pushing you past your limits. at least, that’s what you assumed. boy you were wrong. 

hesitantly, you stepped forward, drawn into leila’s presence like she had an invisible pull on you. her hands reached for you instantly, fingers splaying across your waist as she guided you between her legs with ease. the warmth of her touch seeped into your skin, grounding you in the moment.

you were so focused on her that you almost didn’t notice misa standing until she was right behind you. her hands ghosted over your back, fingers tracing absent patterns over the ink etched into your skin. the teasing touch had you holding your breath, until they finally settled on your shoulders, pressing firmly as she began to knead the tension from your muscles.

the sensation had you instinctively tilting your head back, leaving your neck vulnerable, something that misa quickly noticed. her lips brushed against your skin, pressing slow, deliberate kisses that sent a shudder through your entire body. a quiet whimper threatened to escape your lips.

and then there was leila, her hands still moving, still exploring, mapping your body with a featherlight touch that somehow burned hotter than anything. every caress, every whisper of contact sent jolts of electricity through your veins. you were completely at their mercy. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

your door swung open as laia came rushing it but was instantly stopped in her tracks before she could ask if you wanted to play mario kart on the switch she had bought. she stood rapidly blinking at the sight in front of her, clearly unsure of what to do before turning around and making a clear run for the door. 

“i told you so” she shouted before slamming the door behind her. 

your cheeks flushed red at the slight embarrassment you now felt after your best friend had seen you in this position, but the sets of hands that had taken hold of your body quickly refocused you on the situation that was developing with you at the centre. 

“you ready for some fun, carino?” leila mummered, her gaze locking onto you with a teasing smile

the look in her eyes had you nodding instantly, your breath hitching in anticipation. 

“oh you have no idea” misa whispered against your ear, voice dripping with a mix of mischief and smugness.

a/n - only half proof read, soz x

[jwonsite]

“just sit on my lap, it’ll be fine” - lee heeseung

part 1 of e(nnn)- (a nnn series)

pairing: dom!heeseung x sub!fem!reader

warnings: p in v, cockwarming, oral (f receiving), hickeys, grinding, exhibitionism (? the boys hear them over the mic😭), unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!!), lmk if there’s anymore!

synopsis: your video game obsessed boyfriend is determined to win a bet made with his friends for a new gaming console, all while depriving you of sex for an entire month. luckily for you, your boyfriend lacks any amount of self control

masterlist! | next!

“i’m sorry, you what?”

“it’s only a month, babe, come on you can’t last that long without sex?”

“it’s not that i can’t, it’s that i don’t want to!”

you sighed and crossed your arms as your boyfriend walked over to you, hands moving to your waist

“i mean, just because i can’t cum doesn’t mean you can’t” he says with a smirk, leaning his head down to kiss your neck

you giggled at his actions, but stopped him before he got too far. you know your boyfriend, once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. he lifts his head up from your neck and you wrap your arms around his neck

“lee heeseung, you owe me the best fuck of my life on december 1st. i hope you know that” you say, pointing your finger accusingly into his chest

“yes ma’am” he says, putting his hand to his forehead to salute you

you laughed as you moved out of his embrace, walking to the bathroom to go take a shower

“but just know,” you say teasingly over your shoulder, “i’m gonna make this the hardest month of your life,” you finish off, peeking your head out of the almost closed bathroom door, sending him a wink before you shut it

__________________________________________

a week has passed since your boyfriend agreed to this bet, and so far he was going strong. even through all of your teasing he managed to control his urges, distracting himself with dance practice or video games. but today, you were really testing him…

his eyes couldn’t help but wander as you reached up to grab something from the top shelf, your (his) shirt rising to show your ass peeking out from the pink underwear you wore as you stood on your tip toes, still trying to get the object you wanted

feeling his gaze on you, you smiled to yourself as you got exactly the reaction you set out for, but you wanted to test him a little more

“baby, i can’t reach that cup on the top shelf, can you get it for me?” you said as you turned to face him, catching him blatantly staring at your ass. he had no shame, meeting your eyes with a smile. as he got up, you didn’t move out of the way, instead staying right in front of the cabinet you needed him to retrieve the item from

he walked up behind you, putting a hand on your hip and making sure to press his hips right against your ass, as he reached with the other hand to grab the cup you asked him for

“here you go princess,” he whispers into your ear, placing the cup on the counter in front of you. he places a quick kiss on your temple before walking to your shared room, you assumed to go play video games with his friends

fuck

how did that affect you more than him? now you’re horny and in desperate need for your boyfriend’s dick, while still having 3 weeks left of his stupid bet

taking a deep breath in, you try to distract yourself, continuing with mundane tasks around the house

laundry, dishes, vacuum, mop, dust, cook… the list goes on as you continued to busy yourself with chores around your apartment, determined to not let your urges win. your boyfriend needed to win, he wanted that gaming console so bad. plus, you too, had to prove to him that you can last a month without sex

after finishing up almost every chore that could be done in the small apartment, you went into your bedroom, finding your boyfriend doing exactly what you thought he was doing, playing video games

you rolled your eyes playfully, smiling to yourself as you walked over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, and then continued to go lay down in your bed

you busied yourself on your phone, scrolling on tiktok while patiently waiting for your boyfriend to finish up whatever game it is he’s playing tonight. you were used to waiting, as he played these games pretty often. you didn’t mind it, you knew he was busy and this was one of the only times where he truly had time to himself, so you never bothered him, letting him play for as long as his heart desires

after about a half an hour, your boyfriend turns his chair around to look at you

you peek up from your phone, looking at him with a smile while he stares at you with such love in his eyes

“miss you baby” he says, pouting a little bit

“i miss you too pretty boy, wanna come cuddle?” you ask, putting your phone down on the bed to turn your full attention to your needy boyfriend

he shakes his head, instead opening his arms and gesturing for you to come sit on his lap

“what about your little bet with jay and them?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at his actions

“are you suggesting i have no self control and can’t have you sit in my lap without getting horny?” he shoots back, crossing his arms

“uh yeah that’s exactly what i’m saying” you answer completely serious

he rolls his eyes at you before uncrossing his arms from his chest

“babyyyy, just sit on my lap, it’ll be fine” he whines, reaching one of his arms out towards you

“fine you needy baby, jeez” you say as you get up from the bed, walking over to where your boyfriend was sitting. you sat down on his lap, immediately stuffing your face into the crook of his neck while wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, sighing in content as the familiar scent of your boyfriend intoxicates your senses

you rested you head in the crook of his neck as he continued to play his games, leaving a kiss on his neck every now and then. you noticed how he was extra gentle with you on his lap. usually when he played his games he would yell at whoever it was on the mic that messed up or shot the wrong person, but with you there he wasn’t like that. still speaking sternly into his mic whenever somebody did something wrong, but never raising his voice

after a few minutes of kissing his neck, you started making them more frequent, your lips almost never leaving his neck. you even sucked and bit a spot, leaving a red mark that will soon turn into a bruise later. you could feel him shifting in his seat a bit at the sudden change of tempo. he was getting horny, you could tell

even though this shouldve made you stop, and help your boyfriend to win his ps5, it only egged you on more to continue. you decided to become a bit bolder, rolling your hips into his crotch slightly. his hand flew down from his keyboard, grabbing your waist immediately to stop you

“yn, don’t do that” he says, sternly

“but babyyyy, i need you so badly, please” you say bringing your head up to look at him with the biggest puppy eyes. he never could resist you when you look at him like that, your big doe eyes staring up at him he let out a sigh of defeat

“fine, but you can’t move” he said, lifting you off his lap so he could pull his pants down to his thighs

“i can’t move? you just want me to cockwarm your dick basically?” you said with a tinge of disbelief in your voice as you stood up, crossing your arms over your chest

“yeah basically. maybe you should’ve thought about what you were doing before you got yourself all worked up” he fired back

you rolled your eyes as your hands moved to take off your shorts and underwear, leaving you in just his t shirt. you moved back over your boyfriends lap, lowering yourself down as heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist. you grabbed his semi-hard dick and put it inside of you, moaning at the stretch. you resisted every urge you had to just start bouncing on his dick right there and then. he brought one of his hands to your waist, grabbing your side

“don’t move, you begged for my dick and now you have it” he said looking down at you, before continuing to play his games like you’re not sitting on his cock right now

you sat there with your head buried in the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around his neck. you wanted to move so badly, but you knew if you tried he probably would edge you for hours anyways. so you sat there completely still, face buried in his neck

after another round or two of his game, you started to get impatient, slightly shifting in your seat on purpose so you had some friction. you could feel your boyfriend tense up a little, but he didn’t make any moves to stop you. becoming a little bolder, you decided to move your hips against his slightly, almost unnoticeable. again, he made no moves to stop you. taking this as a green light to continue, you kept on rolling your hips into his slowly and gently, moaning lowly into his neck. soon after, you heard the sound from his video game meaning he lost the round, as he said something to his friend who was on the mic

“guys imma get off for tonight, we can play tomorrow or something. i have something i need to take care of, i just remembered”

you smiled to yourself, knowing what was coming. without a word, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed, setting you down as he hovered over you

“you think your little games are funny? huh pretty? moving on my dick while my friends were on the mic, when i specifically told you not to?” he said into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck after he was done

“‘m sorry hee i just wanted you so bad” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer to your exposed cunt

“you were being such a brat, teasing me all day with your cute little pink panties, sticking your ass out for me to see” he said against your skin, moving down your neck. he paused for a second to remove your shirt, and continued his descent down your body, sucking and licking your nipples before moving closer to your pussy

you moaned at his words, arching your back at the feeling of him sucking your boobs. you could feel him getting closer to where you’ve been craving him all day, the pit in your stomach beginning to grow with arousal and excitement

he started by kissing the insides of your thighs, almost causing you to close your legs instinctively, but he held them open with his hands. he slowly moved up your thighs before arriving at your pretty pussy. he loved it so much, it was always so pretty. the scent of it alone could make him cum in his pants. he licked his lips before leaving a gentle kiss on your clit, before diving into your pussy like a starved man. he was licking and sucking like he had been deprived of it for years

you were a moaning mess at this point, shoving your hand into his hair as his face was buried in your cunt. you arched your back at the feeling, not being able to contain how good he was making you feel. you hands pulled a little at his locks, making him moan into your pussy, sending vibrations that you swear almost pushed you off the edge

“oh fuck hee, i’m close, i’m gonna cum” you managed to get out in between your moans, bucking your hips up into his face for more friction

“come on baby, come all over my tongue” he said in between licks, beginning to suck harder, and sticking a finger into your cunt, fingering you hard and fast

you moaned loudly as this sent you over the edge, arching your back as your legs twitched under his hands. he didn’t stop eating you out, riding your through your orgasm

as you calmed down you saw him pulling his pants down and completely off his legs, pulling off his shirt as well

“what are you doing?” you said breathlessly

“i’m sorry baby fuck the ps5, you looked so gorgeous coming in my mouth just now i need to be inside of you” he said, hovering over you once again, giving you a quick kiss before lining himself up at your entrance. he slowly inserted himself into your pussy, both of you moaning at the stretch

“fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight. can’t believe i was gonna go a month without feeling you around me” heeseung said, hands grabbing your waist

you only moaned in response, the stimulation being too much for you right now. as he bottomed out, he pulled all the way out and slammed back into you, setting a relentless speed. you moaned and whined loudly, tits bouncing with every thrust. your boyfriend threw his head back in pleasure, groaning softly as he felt you suck in him so well

suddenly, you felt him pull out. you were confused but then felt him flipping you over on your stomach, immediately sliding right back in from the back. he started his relentless speed against, as the sounds of skin slapping and squelching echoed in the room

“fuck baby, i’m close” hee said, his thrusts getting sloppier

“oh fuck- me too” you moaned out, barely comprehensible

he continued to slam into you as your orgasm washed over you, his following soon after. his hips stuttered as he filled you up with his cum, continuing to thrust it back up into you

he pulled his dick out before wiping the cum dripping from your hole and pushing it back inside of you, making sure you don’t waste a single drop

you both collapsed back onto the bed, and you rolled over so you were laying on top of your boyfriend. he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on top of yours. you stayed in comfortable silence like that for a bit until you spoke up

“so… no ps5 huh? you must really love me”

“i really do, pretty girl. you’re worth not getting a ps5” he said, leaving a kiss on the top of your head

“you mean this pussy is worth not getting a ps5?” you said back, moving your head back to look at him, raising an eyebrow at him

he laughed at your comment, shaking his head at your unseriousness

“whatever you say pretty girl”

a/n: hi guys!!! ahhhh this is the first part of my series i am so excited it has gotten SO much love on only the masterlist and prologue! i was so scared to post this in fear of letting everybody down so i hope you all enjoy🫶🏼

taglist (closed!): @yannew @hanienie @beomgyusonlywife @akirakinimi @multifandomgurllll @boutyouwonu @kissmunalodz @5xiang @ibsysbsfsunsbs @guqsnfics @hellaboredd @wvnkoi @kpopslover @heerinnie @climbingmandevillas @rikisly @simeonswhore @lilriswife4life @daegutowns @harrietbarnesblog @wonniie3 @ariadores @yizhoutv @lilizinho @firstclassjaylee @olivehues @ikeusol @bunhoons @electrobutterfly @choijxn @baekxo07 @youronevia @eneiyri @soobery @heeseungshim @furious-eagle @nyxluvethn @jongseongslvr @wonniewonwon @sunsunl0ver @mixtape-racha @jakeslvt @lomlj4ke @neocockthotology @babyy-bambii @fluerz

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