#maybe it's a good thing that I don't need to clear up anything???

[tiramissyoucake]

Can I request a scenario where Mohawk Mark and Girly reader first met each other, like he's the school's bad boy and no one mess with him since he's basically crazy.

Reader was maybe getting hit on and cornered into a wall or being followed then bump into mohawk mark and ask for his help, then he did. Which ends with the results of reader following him everywhere and over sharing to the the point they started dating.

Getting in trouble together, having quickies in the most unlikely places and sleeping naked together even though they didn't do anything before that, they're just enjoying each other's company

I love this idea so much. Mohawk Mark x girly reader you will always be loved.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

CW: semi-public? Piv, fem reader (girly/Bimbo coded), corny ass flight confession thing, stripping after fucking, not proof read

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When Mark's powers started coming in slowly but surely, he immediately thought of all the things he could do for his own satisfaction. A few days after getting them, at school, he punched a student so badly he was suspended for a week, he saw it as a vacation.

When he came back, the student he punched had a patch on where he got hit and everyone steered clear from Mark with uneasy eyes or judgemental glances followed by whispering, (except William, but William already barely talked to him now.) He didn't care, he was a God among men now, he learned to pull his punches, he had a feeling killing a student with a singular punch would be more trouble than it's worth.

He talked back to teachers, harshly bumped into whoever was in his way and glared back twice as hard to anyone who had the gall to look at him, he was untouchable so why should he care about what anyone else thinks? He doesn't mind suspension if it means scaring these losers into knowing who's stronger.

His appearance was enough as is, he was certain he was the only student with a mohawk. He fumbled with his locker, the weight of the books growing more irritating as he finally got it open, tossing whatever he didn't need inside, he heard speaking next to him- not the usual shit talk some gossip fiends would jabber about, he heard arguing.

"Can you back off?! I have a class to get to!"

"Just ditch with me! Who cares about class?"

"I do, dumbass! That's the whole point of school?!"

Following the noise, he immediately saw you, your annoyed expression didn't match the adorable appearance. Pretty glossy lips, styled hair, a bag with too many charms and keychains. You were fending off a guy who was getting a bit too close, even for him. Some no-name jock who he was sure had less personality than he had brains which was already low.

"Don't touch me!" You jerked your shoulder out of his hand with a glare. "What, now you're too good for me?"

Okay, this was embarrassing. Mark rolled his eyes before slamming his locker shut, approaching the bickering.

"She's not interested, dickhead." He started, taking your side. "Why don't you fuck off before I make you?"

The guy scoffed, sure he was more muscular but he didn't have half-viltrumite genetics. "What're you gonna do? Think you're some kinda hero?"

He didn't wait for anymore incentive, his fist flying immediately into his jaw- granted he had to hold back *a lot* of momentum he picked up in his swing, you gasped, the jerk staggered and held his jaw and stared in shock.

"Yeah that's what I thought, pussy." Mark grinned, his fist unaffected as he turned to you- you looked starstruck. "What do you for first period?"

It took you a moment to find your voice, stuttering. "Uh— history..?"

Huh. So did he. "Come on." He grabbed your arm and tugged you along, you followed with no protests. Mark was surprised at how obedient you were being given you were arguing with the dumbfounded idiot back there like hell, a small smirk came onto his face- maybe you were terrified of him like everyone else.

He stopped once he reached the correct room, letting go of your arm to open the door, he turned to you to say some cool goodbye he'd been practicing but paused.

You practically had hearts in your eyes as you stared at him, restraining a smile. "I didn't get to thank you for helping me back there!" Your friendly tone was a welcome change from the earlier hostility. "I'm (Name), you're Mark, right?"

"... how'd you know?"

"Duh? Everyone knows you! You're the guy that punched a guy." Yeah, that was about right. "I didn't know you were such a Knight in shining armor, though!"

He scoffed, almost offended at that. "Hell no, he was just pissing me off. You just happened to be there."

"Whatever you say~"

It started from there, in that history class, you sat next to him and kept trying to pass notes, to which he crumpled and tossed aside. You chalked it up to the tough guy persona he was trying to uphold because why else would he repeatedly glance at you?

You walked with him to his classes and monologued since he barely responded to make it a conversation. "-but I dunno, like sometimes I wanna go for the messy hair look but I can't leave my house without styling it! What do you think? I mean I like your mohawk, like rarely any guys can pull off a mohawk-"

Details he didn't care about were being retained in his head, and he prayed to God you'd leave him alone during lunch, maybe you had your own bimbo friends to talk to so he could get some peace and quiet.

All hopes of that were thrown out the window as he saw your tray land on the table he occupied, you sat down and smiled like he was the best thing in the world. "Hey, you!"

He dropped the plastic fork, sighing. "Fine. What do you want?"

"What do you mean?" You responded so cluelessly as you brought out a compact mirror from your bag.

"You've been following me around like a damn dog since this morning." You pissed him off, how could you worry about if you had enough glitter on your face at a moment like this. "What the fuck do you want?"

You scoffed, like he was stupid. "Uh, because I like you? And wanna get to know you? I know you have a pretty... yikes. Reputation. But I don't care, earlier this year they spread rumors that I slept with everyone on the football team." You leaned closer, grinning. "I wouldn't touch any of those losers with a ten foot pole."

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, he didn't trust you fully but you weren't exactly a nuisance. He shrugged. "Suit yourself, princess."

The gasp you let out scared him into dropping his fork again. "'Princess'?! We're on a nickname basis now?! Omg, okay! I'll call you Marky!"

"Don't." He gritted, that made him sound like a boy toy, he hoped his scowl brought your attention away from his reddening cheeks.

.

He hated admitting his parents were right, but he knew why keeping the powers thing a secret was important, he didn't want government losers trying to recruit him for corny hero work or get civilians talking, but he figured you wouldn't be a problem and shockingly, you weren't. The first thing you asked him was if he was like 'real life superman'.

Sneaking into your painfully adorable bedroom, he ignored all your questions of "how'd you get in?!" And "what's wrong?", holding your wrist.

"C'mon, I gotta show you something." You got up from your bed, magazines discarded as he tugged you closer to the window. "Hold on! Mark, my parents are gonna kill me!"

He rolled his eyes, one leg already out the window. "They won't know, trust me. C'mere."

He pulled you closely, chest to chest as he guided you out the window. One moment, your feet were on the windowsill, and the next he's soaring through the sky with you held tightly in his arms.

"If you drop me, I swear I'll kill you!!" You yelled as you clung to his shirt, Mark grinned and propped you up.

"Uh oh, my hands slipping!" His little jab made you yell and cling to him harder, he almost went crazy feeling you hide your face in his neck and tighten your hands' grip on him. "MARK!! THAT'S NOT FUNNY!"

He couldn't help laughing, you were adorable enough as is, seeing you huddle up to him in his arms in the sky was a sight to see. At this point, he hovered and went at a decent pace over town, watching your expression. "What'd I tell you? Worth it or not?"

"Everything looks so pretty from up here.." You mumbled while glancing around, looking up at him. "Taking me out for a romantic flight, what's next? Are you gonna confess to me?" Your smile gave him the message that you'd hoped he would.

"Yeah? And if I was?" He leaned in, a grin on his lips, truth be told, after accepting your presence as a reoccurring thing in his life he found himself liking you more and more, following him around like a lovesick stalker. (it helped that he thought you were hot as hell too)

"I'd be real happy if you did?" You hummed, a blush dusting your cheeks. "You already know that I really like you, Marky."

That stupid nickname he came to accept, you were gonna be the death of him. "I like you too, princess. I really really like you." He repeated as he leaned closer, tightening his grip on you.

Pressing his lips to yours, you had a feeling the first kiss wouldn't be innocent, and you were right. A groan escaped him as if to silently say "finally", it was messy, biting your bottom lip, his tongue darting out to deepen the kiss further and tilting his head when you parted your lips for him, if only he did this in your room so he could properly kiss you until your lips were bruised.

the scenery itself made him want to roll his eyes, your Mark holding you in the air in the nightsky- hovering over the town like he was some cheesy comic book hero with a damsel; as corny as it was, it was perfect.

.

You kept in contact after getting accepted into college while he didn't make the effort to even apply. How could you not? Every time you'd see that stupid mohawk in the distance, you'd get so excited you could burst. Mark still had his methods of sneaking in your dorm and whisking you away to God knows where.

A house party hosted by someone you both don't know, a club that was way too exclusive, a festival with everyone bringing their own spread blankets for some show, that one was your favourite; your deviant of a boyfriend found a secluded corner near the woods you could set up your blanket at and he wasted no time having you all to himself.

"Be quiet you— mmff..!" He hissed, his hands grabbing your hips to guide your movement, his dick buried inside you under the skirt he thanked god you decided to wear, perfect for tugging your panties off and having his way. "Fuck, just like that..."

Your whimpers and moans drove him insane but he didn't want any festival goers to find you two like this, you bouncing on his cock with his pants tugged halfway down, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "C-can't, Marky..! So good...!"

Mark let out a breathless laugh, bucking his hips up to you. "C'mere- kiss me." You obeyed, you always did. Lips parted as yours slotted against his own, his tongue invading your mouth almost instantly to swallow any of your adorable moans, he groaned as his hand came down to spank you briefly, a short but strong swing that stung in the best way and made you yelp into his mouth.

"You like that?" He grinned, mischievous and filthy. "Such a good slut for me- mmh, mine, right?" You nodded rapidly, that didn't seem good enough as he spanked you again to ellicit a response. "Ah! Yes! Yours..! Only yours..! Mark!!"

He noted your pace, humming. "As much as I love seeing you hop on my cock, bunny." He sat up, flipping you over and shoving you back down to the blanket he chuckled at your shocked noise. "I wanna fuck you proper."

His hips pistoned against yours, a devastating pace as he panted and grunted over your moans, his hands intertwining with yours. "Yes, fuck- take it, that's a good princess.." he huffed, your legs locking around his waist.

And that wasn't the end of it, as if fucking you like it was your last time meeting wasn't enough, back at your dorm he pinned you back to your bed and threw your clothes off for round two. It must've been Viltrumite stamina or something because he couldn't get enough of you, or maybe he was just that obsessed with you.

He stilled with a loud groan as a stuttered moan escaped you, his hips grinding against you as he pumped you full. "Yes, yes, yes. Fuuhuuuuck...!" Mark almost drooled out as your pussy hugged his cock closely.

"God— I love you, Markyyy..." You extended the nickname, a blissed out expression on your face as he came closer, licking his lips. "I love you too, you're so fuckin' cute..." a satisfied moan escaped him as he kissed you, your hand cupping his cheek gently as you reciprocated happily.

"Mmm... gotta go soon.." he begrudgingly reminded you, to which you whined and clung to him. "Nooooooo..!"

"Baby, come on. You know you'll get in trouble if anyone finds me here." He remembered your college's harsh guidelines on 'uninvited guests' in the dorm, that didn't stop you from insisting. "God, they won't know! Don't worry!"

He rolled his eyes affectionately at you as he settled next to you. "Okay, okay! Just gimme a sec to take this shit off.." he threw aside whatever remaining clothes he had on, a pile forming in the corner as he tossed aside the articles of clothing one by one. "You took, off. Now."

A giggle escaped you as he started to remove your clothes, almost too playfully as he coaxed you. "What's funny? C'mon! You gonna let me be the only naked freak here?"

Sweat had coated your bodies from the rush at the festival and running back, so peeling off whatever remaining clothes was a huge relief. Laying back in the small bed, the size wasn't an issue as you two shuffled closer, skin to skin.

"You comfy?" His arm wrapped around you while the other propped up his head up on your pillow, you let out a happy hum, kissing his cheek. "Uh-huh, you better not leave before I wake up in the morning!"

"Oh, baby I wouldn't dream of it." Mark grinned, holding you possessively.

He wasn't ideal, he wasn't someone who would encourage you to be your best, you knew these late outings and rendezvous that ended up with him naked in your bed wouldn't end well, but the two of you didn't care, you were perfect for each other and that's all that mattered.

[markantonys]

3x05 thoughts! (book spoilers)

i loved all the character & relationship moments in this episode! it was nice to take a breather and just spend time with the characters and get to see how much they mean to each other. wotshow continuing its trend of doing a great job balancing character work vs. action across the 8 episodes!

against all odds, randgwene clung on by a thread for yet another week lmao but the breakup is 100% coming next week, and surely it has to be just about the first thing to happen in the episode given the cliffhanger. i'm reaaaaally curious (and anxious) about how they'll frame it, because right from day 1 after the first trailer etc i said "i really hope they make it clear that randgwene's breakup is mutual because they just aren't right for each other, and don't frame it as the only reason they broke up is because rand is ~cheating~ with lanfear and egwene feels betrayed". it was my biggest point of worry with the whole rand-egwene-lanfear situation, and it seems like it might be coming true! but we haven't actually gotten to hear rand talk about the whole lanfear situation and his feelings on it, so hashing it out with egwene might give him a good opportunity to do that and maybe whatever he says will make it clear to the audience and egwene that he's been manipulated and it will help ease things a bit. i just really hope rand and egwene will be able to end everything on decent footing with each other; i know there has to be big tension between them at the end of the series, but imo that would be cheaper and more emotionally shallow if it's leftover tension from a bad breakup rather than the more platonic tension between two conflicting world leaders who used to have a close personal relationship and grew up together but now must both put their greater duties first. not to mention that we HAVE to get egwene's signoff on avirandlayne if we want the audience to accept that relationship, so she has to end the season in a decent place with rand!

as of now, we're obviously on the verge of high drama, but i have faith that maybe rand & egwene's conversation will end up going in a good direction that allows them to go "look, lanfear might be the catalyst for forcing us to talk about it, but we've both known for a long time that we just aren't right for each other and THAT is the real reason we need to end things" (plus, surely egwene will tell rand that lanfear's been behind her dream torture and rand will be horrified and take her side and turn firmly against lanfear, right? right??). it's also interesting to consider how much control rand had over his dream; in the past rand-lanfear dream convos, he's always seemed "conscious" (though asleep of course) and fully in control and aware of what he's doing, but in this sequence, egwene is entering the other friends' dreams and it's clear that it's just their subconscious minds coming up with scenarios and they aren't doing anything on purpose. is rand fully in control of himself in this dream? or is it a somewhat subconscious dream on his part with lanfear consciously influencing the direction? it IS interesting that the new location could, maybe, imply that this is rand's own natural dream, at least to start, vs. past randfear scenes that seemed like lanfear pulling rand somewhere to talk to him. but we really can't judge anything for sure until we've heard what rand has to say about it next week.

sticking to the waste plot, the avirand scene!! 10/10 no notes! rand learns about polyamory, avi tries to feel out whether wetlanders are down for it, and they bicker <3 and rand playing with the little girl, my HEART let him be a stay-at-home dad!!!!

as i suspected, rhuarc-bair-lian is yet another balanced triad where everybody is equally married to each other with no mention of any sibling-spouses. alanna-maksim-ihvon was the same, so it does really feel like they're setting up for the Main Character Polyship to be a balanced triad where everybody is equally romantically involved and there are no metamours, aka avirandlayne only and min not involved at all. further to this point, there was no particular min-elayne interaction in this episode beyond sharing a group conversation and they didn't react in a noteworthy way to each other, but i'll keep an eye on further developments there in the remaining episodes! if no focus is given to the min-elayne individual dynamic in tanchico, i'd say that's the final nail in the coffin for min being involved in the polycule because at that point they would have blown past MULTIPLE opportunities to tie her together with elayne or rand.

continuing on with polycule thoughts, i was glad to see an acknowledgment of avilayne in elayne's dream! one of my problems with the way it was done so far is that it was so extremely casual as to have no impact on either character outside of 3x01 itself, but i'd suspected that might change later in the season with some kind of Reminder That This Happened, and sure enough, we did get that here. this kind of small but notable acknowledgement is striking just the right balance for me: it's making sure to keep avilayne in the audience's thoughts and signaling to them that there's more to come here, but without emphasizing it as a monogamous romance so much that people will be blindsided or upset when rand joins in the future. we can see that elayne is still thinking about avi, but she's not pining and yearning for her every waking moment of the day (if she was doing that and then if avi started falling for rand more clearly before elayne rejoins them, the audience would feel indignant on elayne's behalf, so it's good that they're not going TOO hard on elayne's feelings for avi just yet; especially with avi's line this episode derisively saying "that's too much to ask of one person" implying that she doesn't have monogamous expectations with elayne, it's good that elayne doesn't strongly have those expectations either, so they're both more or less on the same page as of now).

my wishful thinking was that it would've been nice to have rand crop up in elayne's dream too sort of the way faile did in perrin's, nothing overtly romantic but a sign that he's lingering in her thoughts just like aviendha is. but of course, that couldn't happen in this context because egwene might feel weird or betrayed about seeing rand pop up in her BFF's dream because randgwene are still together. man, i don't want to be a hater but the extended randgwene is 100% to blame for the dynamics i DO want to see getting repeatedly punted off and put on the backburner! gawene didn't get to even meet, and the avirand stuff we've gotten has been perfect but it still kinda feels like they're being shafted in THEIR OWN ARC; this is the biggest time they spend alone together in the whole series but we can't even treat it as a notable focus of the season because we have to keep the focus on randgwene (and randfear) and don't want to risk tainting avirand with cheating implications by drawing the audience's attention to them too much before randgwene has broken up. and i don't know how likely it'll be for avirand to get a little moment during the cold rocks hold attack next week as i'd hoped they might, because the breakup has been dragged out yet another week so they'll be too busy giving the emotional focus to the randgwene fallout and it might STILL be too soon to let rand share any kind of little moment with avi (and in that BTS shot of sammael, he was alone with rand and egwene in a potential cold rocks hold-y set, so i wonder if rand will be sticking with egwene during the battle and avi will just have separate fight scenes).

but all i can do is wait and see how it goes down! it's obvious that avirandlayne IS coming, so i have to trust that rafe has a plan even if i can't quite see it yet haha my fear is that randgwene lasting so long in s3 will mean avirand & randlayne couldn't get as strong setup as they might have otherwise will mean them coming together in s4 will end up feeling rushed (and then gawene too which i've been looking forward to almost as much as avirandlayne, god knows what might even happen there since they are now so SO far past the date of their book meeting). why the show is choosing to fastburn the getting-togethers of endgame romances but slowburn the breakups of non-endgame ones is beyond me, but i will trust that rafe has a plan and that it will all make sense once i'm able to see the forest instead of just the trees!

returning to the dreams, i loved this sequence of egwene visiting her friends' dreams SO MUCH probably one of my favorites of the season so far!! she got so much joy out of seeing her friends happy 🥺🥺🥺 and it was such a beautiful way to show us a little bit of each friend's inner life; nynaeve's lost daughter is still weighing on her and she still dreams about a happy life with her, elayne takes such joy and wonder in learning new things and dreams of a carefree life following her heart outside the confines of duty, perrin's happy place is being at home with his forge and hopper (my heart!!) and he's starting to take faile into his heart too, and MAT!!!! mat's dream killed me dead!!! he has often been played for comic relief this season, so i was really thrilled to get this beautiful reminder of his layers and depth and the good, selfless heart he has underneath the bravado, and particularly glad to get this scene for donal!mat who hasn't had much chance to get the family stuff that barney!mat had so much of in s1 - it really helps keep up the consistency between the two versions and connect our present mat back to s1 mat. all he wants is to give his sisters a good life and hear his mom tell him she's proud of him!! which is such a gutpunch after her death in this episode!

can somebody PLEASE tell mat he's a good boy and they're proud of him!!! my Show!Mat Has A Praise Kink agenda grows stronger every day. man, between mat's dream and rand being so happy playing with the child, my s1 show-only observation that rand and mat would be each other's ideal partner in domestic family life remains spot-on. let them be dads!!

anyway, mat's mom! i was SO not expecting her to die, what a shock! and a good decision, it adds some stakes to the two rivers plotline and gives perrin even more of a reason to want to fight back instead of giving himself up and giving into the whitecloaks. and it seems we're getting the book arc of bode being able to channel! since the girls are twins in the show, i wonder if they can both channel or only one. and i also wonder how big or small of a plot point this might end up being; it's pretty small in the books, but the show has placed more emphasis on mat's family, so maybe they might do a little bit more with it? his sisters are still definitely tertiary characters, though, so i don't know. my biggest wish would be for a full wonderboy reunion in s4 so that perrin can tell mat about his mom and we can see mat react to her death (and i can get a cauthor hurt/comfort fic scenario out of it, priorities priorities haha), and ideally bode & eldrin traveled with perrin and mat can reunite with them at least for a moment. because we know that, if the books are followed, perrin and the cauthon girls will cross paths with rand soon after the two rivers arc (so likely s4), so if they can just get mat back in rand's plotline for s4 to do his TFOH dragon's general plotline, then we could get mat coming into contact with perrin and the girls as well. but as i've speculated before, this might depend on how many total seasons they anticipate getting and whether they have time to send mat back across the continent for a season or whether they need to jump into his west coast seanchan plotline immediately in s4.

good stuff in the two rivers plotline this episode! i loved perrin and faile's battle couple moment <3 and the perrin-dain face-to-face reunion was just as messy and delicious as i'd hoped! "i thought you were a good man" "i was, before you" okay okay

my one complaint about this plotline is, i have to embarrassedly put on my bookcloak hat, but i am really feeling the "alanna and her warders are getting too much time" complaints this season haha i didn't mind in the first 2 seasons, but now they're overstaying their welcome for me. it might not actually be true, but it feels like we've spent more time on alanna and maksim's relationship than perrin and faile's this season! however, i am almost certain that maksim will die in the two rivers battle, especially now that he and alanna had a mini arc of working out their problems and realizing that they're stronger when they stick together - surely that's GOT to mean maksim has to die in order for alanna to lose it enough that she does what she does in LOC next season. and if that happens, then i'll be fine with them getting so much time this season to build up to that death and make us understand why alanna loses it so badly. another thing where i'll have to reserve final judgment until i've seen the forest instead of only the trees!

speaking of people who may or may not be on Death Watch, moiraine and siuan! i really loved their scene together and thought it was so beautiful. as for predictions, i'm split 50/50 on whether them getting to mend fences and share a happy moment and a bittersweet goodbye means this is the final curtain call for their relationship and one or both of them will be dead-dead by the end of the season, or whether the "i'll find you in every lifetime" "and i'll wait for you every time" is foreshadowing of siuan going to find moiraine in finnworld at the end of the show. i just don't know!

i loved the lan and moiraine scene of them sharing a drink. perfect!

tower plotline: it was fine, got the job done

tanchico crew: bringing the comedy as always! i loved the opening scene with bickering matlayne and seasick nynaeve, absolutely impeccable vibes, and then min officially joins the gang (i loved the "raise your hand if you've been personally victimized by liandrin" moment between the four of them lmao). as somebody who's been starting to feel oversaturated with the mat-min dynamic, i was disappointed that he left elayne and nynaeve's scene so quickly to wind up hanging out alone with min yet again, but we did get some great stuff between the trio and the quartet nonetheless! still, at this point it's kinda feeling like mat was lifted out of the waste storyline purely to hang out with min for the second season in a row (and arguably to act as a support piece in HER storyline about learning how to find agency in her visions, more so than having his own storyline get focused on), but i'm sure in ep6 that will change and mat will get more time to shine and more chances to interact with non-min characters since tanchico is slated to be the A plot. i'm very excited to see this plotline lead an episode, it's been a long time coming!

we did finally get a reference to the s2 rand viewing and we learn that mat's takeaway is that min's viewings aren't even accurate because she said he would kill rand and he didn't. and then in the ep6 preview it showed mat trying to pump some tanchico citizens for info about the male a'dam collar, so i just might get a little cauthor crumb next week with mat being worried about rand getting collared and wanting to help protect him!

i think that's everything off the top of my head for this episode!

[fizzyapplecandy]

Ateez as Romance Tropes

Other members

The one where you try to hate your future husband

Yeosang x Fem reader

Genres and warnings: royals, arranged marriage, strangers to acquaintances to lovers, y/n doesn't want to get married, yeosang is a sweetie, horses, horse riding, happy ending

Word count: 3.1k

You give your future husband one task - tame the untamable. It's his only chance to win you over, and he takes the challenge head on.

Little girls always dream of being princesses. Living in a lavish castle, surrounded by people who tend to your every need while they prance around the hallways in gorgeous dresses.

To you, being a princess meant being shackled down for the rest of your life.

You weren't opposed to the nice clothing and big bedroom with a view on the vast forest behind your castle. What you absolutely hated was the man sitting in front of you at the dinner table.

Another perk of being a royal meant uniting two kingdoms though marriage. This time, it was the union between you and Kang Yeosang, and you couldn't despise him even more than you did right now.

"So, your highness, how are the preparations for the wedding coming along? We hear you are clearing out the grand room." Yeosang's mother asked.

Your mom smiled, excited to share the details with her future in laws.

While they were chatting away about flower arrangements, food, your bouquet and dress, you nibbled on a piece of bread. Someone chuckled, and when you lifted your head you could see Yeosang hiding a smile behind his hand.

"What's so funny?" You whispered, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

"Oh, nothing. Just the sour expression on your face. You're a real joy to be around."

"Likewise."

Something told him you were obviously sarcastic. Yeosang had never met a person who despised him as much as you did. There was no particular reason for your hate, he thought, but it came off in waves.

More like hurricanes, he snickered.

"Say princess, why don't we take a walk around the gardens after our meal?"

"I'd rather walk on hot coal, thanks."

He frowned. "Now, that's a bit much, isn't it?"

"I think I've made myself pretty clear, your highness."

Without another word, you patted your mouth with a napkin and stood up from the table.

"Mother, I'm going to the stables. Have a lovely rest of your day."

"Wait, honey! Why don't you take Yeosang with you? He still hasn't seen your pride and joy!"

You tried to hide your frown, knowing you couldn't say no in front of his parents. Your mother put you on the spot, and she knew it.

"Oh... Maybe the prince has other things planned."

"No, I'd love to see your horses, princess."

You wanted to shout at him, but your royal upbringing stopped you.

"Of course. I'll just go to my room and change, you can go outside. San will take you to my stables."

Without another word, you bowed to the people at the table and left to change into your riding clothes.

.

.

"So, is princess Y/N always so curt with people?"

"Only with the ones she doesn't like."

Yeosang frowned at San's answer. He kind of knew you disliked him, but you were about to get married for Christ's sake.

"Is there a way to win her over?" He asked the buff man walking in front of him.

"Well..." San gave it a good thought, but his head came up empty. He was your childhood friend, working in the castle next to his father down at the royal stables. The boy knew what a tough nut you were, but he praised prince Yeosang for his effort.

"I've been in princess Y/N's life for long enough to know that she is more impressed by simple, kind gestures, instead of anything grand. She doesn't like jewels and precious stones, she likes..." San looked ahead of him, pointing his finger for Yeosang to follow.

There you were, already saddled up on a black stallion. You looked incredible, and so powerful. Yeosang was too much in awe to say anything, and San chuckled.

"Horses, particularly Roger, are princess Y/N's passion. Try to bond with her through that."

"Lucky me..." Yeosang whispered, preparing himself for utter embarrassment.

It's not like Yeosang didn't know how to ride a horse, he was a prince for crying out loud. It's just that... Horses scared him. When duty called, he had one mare he trusted not to throw him off, but he didn't know how to ride anyone besides Locket.

"Well, prince Yeosang, grab a stallion and come join me." Y/N shouted from her place on the field. Her horse Roger kind of inherited her personality. She was connected to him on deeper levels than anyone could understand, and she loved the horse more than anything. Prince Yeosang didn't seem too keen on joining her.

"Oh, well... My mare is on the other side of the castle, maybe I should-"

"Nonsense! We have plenty of horses here! San, bring him Storm!"

By the expression on San's face, and the name of the mare, Yeosang knew this wasn't about to be easy.

After some time, San walked back out with a silvery horse tugging on the reins, trying everything in her might to run away. How did Y/N think he could... Oh.

She didn't. She didn't think he could do it, so she did this on purpose. Well, he'd rather get thrown off than let the princess have her satisfaction of winning.

"Roger and I are going to take a leap around the field, feel free to join us once you've... Well if you manage to get along with Storm here. She's a feisty one."

With that, the princess galloped away with her trusted steed, leaving a furious Yeosang behind.

"She's so mean!" He yelled, hearing a chuckle behind him.

San was lightly petting Storm, the horse already used to him, and he motioned for Yeosang to come closer.

"That's princess Y/N. I promise she's not always like this, but I think she likes messing with you. Here, come introduce yourself to Storm."

The silver beauty looked at Yeosang like he was her arch enemy. There was no chance he could get close to her without a bruise or two. However, the prince was determined to prove Y/N wrong, and he also wanted to win her over somehow. If a couple of scratches are needed, he'll gladly do it.

"Let's get to know each other, Storm."

.

.

"Ouch! Okay, I've had it!"

San chuckled from his side of the fence, watching the desperate prince as he tried and failed to get on the horse. Storm was a tough one, and princess Y/N knew what she was doing.

"Come on, just let me ride you once! Just once! Let the princess see I'm capable!"

Yeosang was downright pleading with the horse now, afraid you'd come back and see how he failed. His clothes were dirty, one of his sleeves torn, and he somehow managed to get hay into his mouth and hair. He looked like a disaster, and he felt like one as well.

"Storm, please, I'm begging you!"

"Quite silly to hear you beg, prince Yeosang."

His head turned to see you lightly galloping towards them, and he could tell the mare was getting more relaxed. Without a word, you jumped down from Roger, going over to Storm and petting her. She was silent, almost nuzzling her huge head into your palms.

"What in the... How are you doing that?" Yeosang almost screamed.

"I've known her for ten years, she trusts me. Storm has always been a fighter, and she's really tough. Unless there's an actual storm, she's afraid of those. Once, she ran away, so we had to chase her through the forest. My poor baby was frightened."

Poor baby? That thing is everything but a baby. Yeosang felt like it would be pointless to argue, but the interaction between you and Storm made him step back as well. It looked like the mare was enjoying the pets, and she was swaying her long tail happily. Roger stood next to the two of you, seemingly a bit jealous that the attention wasn't on him. Yeosang almost felt like Roger right now.

"Well... She doesn't seem to like me. Do you have any other horses?"

You looked at Yeosang, smirking as a plan came up in your head.

"Tell you what, my prince. If you manage to ride around the field, just once, on Storm, then I'll gladly give this marriage thing a try. If you don't succeed by the end of the week, you'll let me live my life in peace. We'll still be married, but it will only be a contract to unite our two kingdoms. I find you interesting, but I don't accept the way this marriage came to be."

"Princes..." Yeosang was at a standstill.

You drove a good bargain, he must admit. However, how can he possibly do this? The horse would even give him a chance to get close, let alone... Oh.

He smirked, noticing the similarities with the two situations.

"Okay, I accept. Don't be too surprised when I succeed."

You laughed, and Yeosang thought it was a sweet, bell like sound he could get used to.

"Then we have a deal, dear prince."

This had to work out in his favour.

.

.

"This isn't working out."

By day four, Yeosang still hasn't managed to come close to Storm. The horse all but ignored him, unless it shoved him away into the dirt once he stepped close enough.

"I think you need to give it a different approach." San suggested. The stable boy was of great help, and Yeosang could see himself befriending the fellow once he was done with his task.

"What else can I do? I tried bribing her with food - she almost bit my hand off. I tried taking slow steps - she neighed so loud once she heard me I almost weed in my pants. I also tried going head on - see this bruise? She kicked me in the leg."

The prince sat down on the dirt, head banging against one of the fence pillars.

"I'm hopeless, San."

The buff man jumped into the ring, sitting down next to the prince.

"Hey, your highness, sorry for overstepping if I am, but why don't you give up then? If you're not able to do it, why not offer the princess another solution?"

"Because I don't want her to think I'm a quitter. She's going to look at me for the rest of our lives as a man who couldn't complete one task to show her respect and affection. It shouldn't be that difficult to get close to a horse. The princess seemed to do it just fine."

San chuckled. "Yeah, well, do you think she had it easy? It took a lot of time for Storm to trust Y/N, because she didn't give up. She couldn't."

"Yeah, well, neither can I. I can see how special Storm is, she's a beauty as well, but I think she doesn't know how gentle people can be. She just has to give me a chance."

As if understanding them, the horse turned her head in Yeosang's direction. It looked like she was taunting him. 'Come on, don't give up.'

Determined to succeed, he dusted off his pants and made his way over to the mare.

"You're going to see the kind of person I am, Storm. I'm not so easy to sway."

From a window overlooking the field, princess Y/N smiled. The boy just wouldn't give it a rest. She watched as he fell over and over, standing back up every time. He was determined, that much was clear, but it seemed like he never lost anything in his life, so this proved to be a difficult task.

"Oh, silly prince. If he just sat still next to her, she'd sniff him out and relax. Did he bring her sugar cubes or carrots? She only eats sweets, maybe I should suggest - Oh what am I saying? Do I want him to win?"

"I think you do, my dear."

Whipping your head around you saw your mother standing in the doorway to your room. She had a smug smile on her face, and you knew she heard everything you said.

"Mother! What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?"

She shrugged. "But dear, your door was wide open! We're you, perhaps, on your way down to the field?"

"No! I was just... I don't know."

Your mother came to stand next to you, looking out the window.

"He's a determined little prince, don't you think? I doubt he would be doing this for just anyone."

"You think so?" You asked, leaning against her shoulder.

"Oh, I know so. You should take it easy on him if he doesn't manage to ride her. Storm's a difficult one."

You glanced outside again, seeing Yeosang on the ground for the millionth time today.

"For some reason, I think he'll manage."

.

.

"The sky is awful today." You said as you glanced out the window in the dinning area.

"There's a storm brewing, it will probably hit us tonight." Your father added, looking up from his book. He had a habit of reading while eating lunch.

"Do you think it will be a light one?" Yeosang asked from across the table. He looked positively exhausted. It was Saturday, and he had one day left before failing your challenge. Storm was warming up to him, no longer biting the poor man and kicking him in the knees, but he wasn't sure she'd let him saddle her up tomorrow.

"I'm not sure, your highness, it seems like it won't be pleasant." Your mother answered, glancing at you knowingly. She knew where to find you if the weather got bad.

After finishing your meal, you stood up to go to the library when you heard steps behind you.

"Princess Y/N, could I have a word?"

You turned around and looked at Yeosang, nodding for him to continue.

"Well, tomorrow is Sunday, and you know... I don't... I don't think you gave me enough time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really? I think I gave you plenty. Do you think you won't be able to do it?"

"I... Well, I think I'm on a good path, but I need a few more days."

"Do you think it would make a difference? A day, or two? Maybe you just can't do it."

He was starting to get frustrated, and you could see by the frown on his face.

"I know you want me to fail, but I'm not giving you that satisfaction. I want you, princess. I don't think you realise how much. I won't give up."

Without another word he strolled away graciously, leaving you behind in shock.

He wanted you? He really did? It's not like you haven't felt wanted before, but this was new, and exciting. Maybe you could give him more time. It wouldn't hurt to see him succeed, and you certainly wouldn't mind celebrating with him. Somewhere along the past few days you've accepted your fate, and looked at it from another perspective. Yeosang was a good man, a man who just admitted how much he wanted you.

You could get used to that, you thought as you walked into your room. Looking out the balcony, you saw how terrible the sky became. It would surely be a rough storm.

The sky got darker as the day went by, and by nightfall it was raining so hard you thought it would flood the castle. The wind rammed your windows open twice, and you knew your horses were absolutely terrified. Storm in particular.

Without a second thought, you jumped from your bed and wrapped your silk robe around yourself. You tried sneaking out quietly, avoiding the guards at all costs.

Your escape was rather quick, but the path to the stables was tough. The rain got into your eyes, soaking your clothes in seconds and making it difficult to walk. What usually took you about five minutes now turned into almost fifteen. You failed to notice the light already shining inside the stables.

Opening the door, you shouted out for your horses.

"Roger! Storm! I'm here, my babies, I'm - Oh."

"Hi there."

There, on the dirty floor, sat Yeosang with Storm's head in his lap. He was running his fingers through her maine, and she opened her eyes to glance at you before closing them again.

"Sorry, princess. I know you said she has trouble with bad weather and thunder, so I just... Sorry if I overstepped."

You were speechless. He looked soaked to the bone, his hair sticking to his forehead and his white shirt stretched out over his broad shoulders. What was most noticeable was his concern for Storm, and the other horses. He cared enough even after she made his life hell the past week.

"You... Is she okay?" You asked, unable to think about anything else.

"She's fine. I gave her some sugar cubes, although they kind of melted in the rain. I noticed her dislike for carrots pretty soon." He chuckled, continuing to caress her as he spoke.

"Thank you, truly."

Without another word, you went to check on Roger, walking him over to Yeosang and Storm. The four of you huddled together, and the horses naturally gravitated towards each other. Like them, you also scooted closer to Yeosang, shivering slightly.

"Hey, are you cold? I doubt that a soaked robe does anything for you." He joked, but he was concerned you'd freeze. He slowly placed his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Is this okay?" He whispered, noticing your flushed cheeks.

"Y-Yes. You're really warm." You said, cuddling into him.

"Only when I'm next to a princess like you."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile was evident.

"Oh, stop it. You don't have to make corny jokes to win me over."

"Are you saying I already did that?"

You looked into his eyes, lightly caressing the birth mark next to his eye. He froze, but when he saw how gentle you were, it made his heart melt.

"I'm saying you don't need to try to tame Storm anymore. I think you've proved yourself enough."

"Now, as flattered as I am, I don't back away from a challenge. Don't worry princess, you'll see how it's done tomorrow."

"You're confident you can do it?" You asked, humor in your tone.

"After tonight, I think I can conquer the world."

.

.

"He's doing it, Y/N, he's really doing it!"

San forgot his manners for a second, but you couldn't blame him. Not after watching Yeosang and Storm. She let him saddle her up, and there they were, running laps around the field. They both looked ecstatic, and the thumping of your heart let you know how overjoyed you were for them.

"San, bring me Roger, please."

"Right away!"

Yeosang looked over when he heard his name being called, only to watch as the woman of his dreams rode her trusted stallion beside him.

"Having fun?"

He laughed, reaching over to take your hand.

"Say, my princess, what do you think about riding our horses into the sunset after the wedding?"

You smiled, tightening your grip on his hand.

"I say yes, my prince."

[princescribbler]

I Think I Have a Fetish For My Wife/Momma/Princess

I've always been a fetishist. It's something deep within me that doesn't ever really go away. I've ignored it for long periods (Looking at you, early college years!), I've dabbled in it, I've even reveled in and embraced it (That's now). When that happens, I've picked up and discarded a few different kinks and interests. There was a time where catheter play got me going, and the idea of a stent would've made me blush and squirm. If you asked me in the past if I'd ever even temporarily tolerate chastity, much less make it a frequent, daily thing for me? I'd have said it was highly unlikely, maybe even impossible to imagine. Now, it's just on days that end with Y.

Throughout that time, I've had a lot of fetishes, and kinks, I've dabbled, I've played, I've explored and embraced and tested out and attempted a whole lot. And there's been one very strong, very present constant.

Loss of control.

That's huge for me. It's integral, a part of my very identity that fills me up and makes me feel good about myself. I have zero good explanation for this; You might argue it's about the idea of being accepted with imperfections, you could try to view it through the Freudian lens (Don't: That dude was kinky AF, and assumed it was universal, not gonna work here) but however it works, you're going to come up short. There isn't a single clear explanation, it's just something I need!

Whatever the reason, it's consistent. I crave a loss of control, the ability to let go, be 'less' than my normal self, whether it's talking about ageplay, ABDL, or a hundred side-kinks and interests. And it's very, very hard to do that when you're not necessarily the most open, trusting personality.

Then along came Momma: She was patient with me, in a way most people probably wouldn't (or even shouldn't) be. When I said, "I want to go slow" she agreed to set the pace to glacial. When I sporadically tried to speed it up, or change the stakes, or alter the terms, or anything of the sort...she was fluid, and tried to move with me. She's been my rock, and my safety, and my favorite, most wonderful secure place. And as a result of that, I've developed a Momma Princess @giggle-byte fetish.

I mean that sincerely: See, if you take away my lovely lady, Momma? I don't want Chastity play. Chastity play without Momma means denial, frustration, etc. With Momma, it's teasing, lots of fun, plenty of 'fun', not feeling denied, and in fact feeling cared for, comforted, and loved.

Take away Momma, and diapers aren't my thing. With her? Sure, 24/7, I feel secure and whole and good! Without Momma? I mean, before her I was scared to leave the house padded, much less wear full time, discretely and constantly.

You can say the same thing for nearly any sort of fetish or kink. If I've got it, it's about 10000% more fun, safe, and explorable with Momma than if I didn't have her. She makes it alright to try new things, to explore, to grow and adapt and even, maybe, sometimes take a break from things. Whether it's something I need every day, every week, or just once every few months, I know my wife, my love, my better half will be there to make it a good thing. I'm incredibly, unbelievably, UNFATHOMABLY lucky to have this beautiful partner in life. And if you ever, ever get someone half as good? You hold on tight, because you're definitely going to end up developing some lovely, fun, and even sometimes WHOLESOME new kinks!

I love you, my darling. Thanks for giving me a Momma Princess fetish. ;) -Scribbler (Or "baby-prince-papi", as you might know me, sweetheart)

[kkpaaw]

It's Time~

I told yall the next post by me about the au would be Kai's season 1 concept and i meant it!

So here we are!

This is what Kai is wearing all through pre-season 1 and season 1

So let's talk a bit about Kai and what important information you'll need to know about him for pre-season 1 and season 1

♤Kai♤

Kai is the main protagonist in this au. Since he is taking over MK's spot in the lmk story and Lore, that means pretty much everything MK went through Kai does as well

He's still the same brash prideful caring loser he's always been, that hasn't changed, but now he faces a new danger and new adventure that he never expected to go through. At least he's not alone, he has Jay and a bunch of new allies in his corner helping out!

Kai, like MK will be staying with Pigsy and working at his noodle shop in order to make money and keep his place of residence.

♤Backstory♤

Kai's backstory In this au is quite different. Those of you who have watched lmk know what I mean but for those who don't, when time comes for the information to be relevant you'll know.

But for the sake of pre-season 1 and season 1 it's not that relevant

For now, I'll be telling you the events that lead up to Kai getting stuck in the LMK realm...

_____

__________

A few months after the events of Crystallized concluded Kai was in his and Nya's family home, visiting their parents and helping out around the house. He was clearing though some of his old belongings when he came across a particular item.

It was a small golden bell

The bell was an item Kai had never seen before nor has any memory of getting it yet it seemed so..familiar.

Like eerily familiar.

Where had this come from? And why did it seem to call out to him??

"H-hey mom?" He called out, eyes still stuck In the bell in his hands.

"What is it Kai?" His mother's distance voiced called back.

"Can you... come here? I have something I want to show you!" He shouted.

"In a minute sweetie!" Kai hummed in response.

Kai found himself unable to look away from the bell. There wasn't anything unique about it. It was jsut a simple golden bell with a black strap and some tasles at the end, and yet, somrgung about it just screamed it being familiar

Something calling for him to ring it.

Kai isn't known for his good ideas so maybe that's why he ended up doing that exact thing.

The bells sound echoed through the room, the melody quiet yet loud, and once again something about it just insisted it was familiar.

At first nothing happened and Kai was about ready to shove aside such a feeling of nostalgia and out it away, but then...

The bell started to glow and vibrate rapidly.

"W-what the-?!" Kai yelped and dropped the bell. Instead of falling however it just overdue in place, the glowing and vibrating getting more intense.

Kai stood frozen as the bell got more and more intense. The glow becoming os bring it nearly blinded him. He tried to look away but the bell once again called his attention and he found himself looming into the glowing light as it grew brighter and brighter and then-

*POOF*

In one swift blink of light, both Kai and the Bell, were gone.

Only a few moments later did Maya appear I jthe doorway of his room looking confused as she searched for her son

"Kai? Sweetie? Where are you? I'm here to see what you wanted to show me?" She looked around the room In confusion

Did she mishear him? Mayne he was somewhere else?

She turned away and called out to Ray

"Ray?"

"Ya?"

"Did you see where Kai went?"

Neither her or Ray knew this yet but that would be the last time they see Kai for quite a while

_____

End!

Little story for you guys to give u an idea of how Kai ended up in the realm of lmk. I'll go into more detail about this as we go through the episodes so don't worry. This was more or less so u guys knew just HOW he got there

The next post you guys see about the au aside from any asks, will be Jay's concept Art for S1!. After him I got I think 2 more concepts for 2 other characters that I wanna use in this au! You'll see what I mean!

[epickiya722]

After eight hours, I gave up...

[moinsbienquekaworu]

I just spent like 20 minutes thinking about soup

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ it's sticky, toshi... ❞

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : you help ushijima finally realize that he's got a breeding kink

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...cw : u. wakatoshi x fem!reader, dirty talk, messy and wet, teasing, marathon sex, pet names, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy, ushijima can't stop cumming

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : haikyuu save me, save me ushijima wakatoshi, SAVE ME !! anyways hi i spent 150$ on ushijima merch yesterday and i don't regret it, so say hello to my haikyuu phase coming back !!!

ushijima having a breeding kink isn't a surprise to you at all.

what is surprising is how long it takes for him to figure it out.

sure, at first it wasn't clear, but after being with him for so long, you quickly pick up on whenever he'd mutter in your ear as he slid his stupidly big cock inside of you, saying how badly he wished he could cum inside of you instead in the condom.

afterwards, he's so focused on cleaning you up and making sure you felt good and satisfied, you don't get a chance to question him on it. not that you were complaining, ushijima is so cute when he's asking if you need anything and constantly reminds you to get up and go use the bathroom.

it's even cuter when he realizes you can't walk.

"ah. i'm sorry, i didn't realize how hard i went...here, let me help."

eventually, you to suggest things to ushijima, trying to test out the waters with him.

you start by just asking if he’d want to fuck you without the condom, what he thought about cumming inside, even jokingly saying you’d make him a dad one day.

but it seems like that last part was swimming around his head for a while...he can't get the thought of you getting chubby and round with his kid out of your head. and knowing he'd be able to take care of you all the time? that thought alone made him shiver a little.

what can he say, he loves doting on you more than anything.

however, you aren't expecting the way he reacted weeks after dealing with your teasing and questioning, fueling the thoughts swirling inside his head.

"toshi, if you ever cum inside me, you should set it as your phone background! actually, wait, no, because what if your teammates see it..."

"..."

"mm, maybe a video instead? ooh, yeah, i want a video of you cumming in me then pullin' out so i can see it spill out, toshtosh, would you do that f' me?"

he doesn't reply and doesn't give you a chance to comment again. the visual you painted in his mind just too much for him.

next thing you know, ushi's got you folded in half on the bed, making sure you feel every drag of his stupidly fat cock against your hot gummy walls. he's pulling out to just the tip before slamming back inside you, groaning each time you let out a whimper of his name or squeeze down on him.

"toshi, t-toshi! h-hoohmygod, please, baby, c-calm down, 'm sorry f' teasin', oh my goddd...!"

you're so fucking wet and noisy, he wants to make you be quiet because he feels like your going to make him cum too fast but he'd never ever do it as the thought of not being able to hear you is painful.

he's lost track of time, your cunt making him brainless as he pumps his cock in and out of you as he groans your name, one of his hands pinning your arms to your back while the other presses your head into the pillows.

"s-shhh, honey, let...let me make you feel good, y're so loud..."

it's so fucking messy and sloppy, his cum is dripping out of your tight pussy from how many times he’s emptied his load into you, but he still isn’t stopping, no, he can't. it’s leaking from between your thighs, leaving a milky white sheen on his dick, dripping down onto the bedsheets.

"m-mmh, nooo, toshi, don' wanna be quiet, i-i wan' you to hear how good you make me feel, baby," you purr between moans, knowing that your voice was enough to get him off. the throb of his dick inside of you told you that you were right.

“i...i thought 'bout fucking you like this all day, during practice…that i’d fuck you full of my cum, get it so deep inside you," he mutters with a grunt, moving his hands off you so he could drape himself over your back.

"f-fuck, everyone knew something was off, kageyama kept asking me if-if was okay, how 'm i 'posed to tell him my pretty little honey is waiting at home for me to fill them with my cum?”

with an affirming coo, you manage to tilt your head to the side to look over your shoulder, wanting to see how ushijima is holding up and god, the sight is so sinful.

ushijima's dripping in sweat, his bottom lip swollen and puffy from his teeth digging into it. his fluffy hair is messy and sticking to his damp forehead, and his eyes are shut, squeezing in pleasure when the head of his cock brushed against that sweet spot just right, making your cunt spasm around him.

but his eyes keep opening to see the mess between the both of you. each thrust causes his cum to spill out around him, loud, wet squelches filling the bedroom. and it's only fueling his need to fill you up again, and again, and again, until he can’t anymore.

ushijima can’t stop himself, flipping you over onto your back and folding you into a mating press and, god, he's so fucking happy he did. the way you sob his name, your nails clawing at his back as you cry in pleasure about how much deeper he is now driving him insane.

“t-toshi, cum in me, please, wanna make you a daddy, please.”

“I know, baby, I’ll give you all of it, fuck you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”

fuck, he’s so loud, he sounds so good. ushi's deep, drawn out groans and pants of your name making you go dizzy, his big hands squeezing your waist tightly each time your hands tug at his hair.

“mm, fuck, that’s right, take all my cum, look at you, so good, can you take more? let...let me cum in you again, baby, you promised you’d make me a daddy, right? i-i need to make sure it sticks.”

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[pedgito]

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | Harry Castillo x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Five years of being his assistant and five years of failed attempts at finding love with your help, but maybe the obvious answer has been there the entire time. Alternatively, you fucked your boss? Uh-oh.

author's note | harry...randy...who knows. i'll change it if needed but given the name tag, this is what i'm sticking with for now. skip the lecture about not writing until the movie is out, this isn't hurting anyone so don't bother me about it, xo. the horny demons always win. i listened to this song i repeat while i wrote, felt fitting.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, power imbalance (boss/assistant), work wife/work husband type beat, mentions of failed dating, being superficial, mentions of sugar daddy things, expensive gifts, reader is a godly assistant with a will stronger than mine, he smokes, they drink, sex while inebriated, he's down so bad, also oral!, tense morning after, open-ended

word count — 4.5k

You knew him better than anyone.

From his breakfast order down to his specific choice of underwear, like you weren’t making the weekly purchases and filling up his rarely used fridge in the apartment that was way out your price range, arranging his schedule down to the minute, booking his flights, packing his bag.

Really, Harry should just marry you.

…it was more of a joke, but you’ve teased him about it once or twice.

He called you his work wife anyways, but in reality, you were just his assistant.

He did trust you with his life, though.

More importantly, his love life.

“Kim flaked,” he tells you over coffee, perched at his kitchen island as you typed away on your laptop, looking up briefly with eyes that begged for him to explain, he does and makes a show about, mimicking a more feminine voice as he relays the message she gave him, “same song and dance—you’re great and fun but I can’t do anything serious right now,”

“Were you nice?” you ask curiously.

Harry rolls his eyes at that, like it was a stupid question to ask. But, eventually he nods.

“Did you ask questions?” you continue, fingers folding over the screen of your laptop to close it.

“Plenty, she works in finance, loves the color blue, wants to travel,” he could go on and on, throwing his hands up in defeat before they slump to his side, “maybe I should try out a real matchmaker—not that you’re bad at it—”

“You think I’m bad at it,” you smile knowingly, “don’t you?”

“No,” you’re unconvinced, “besides—you’re my assistant, I never meant for that type of responsibility to fall on you, you know?”

“I’m doing both of us a favor,” you remind him, “I think…it just takes time.”

And fortunately, all you had was time.

It felt pointless for Harry to spend a chunk of cash to have someone pair him up with the supposed love of his life, though you knew that money wasn’t a problem, you felt a weird responsibility to protect him, unsure how quickly someone would take advantage of his kindness.

“There’s a gala,” you tell him offhandedly, “next week. I already cleared your schedule for it. I think…maybe you should just peruse this time.”

“Peruse?” he chuckles, eyes creasing in amusement, his crow’s feet deepening with the emotion, “You’re a control freak, you sure about that?”

“That’s just mean,” you retort, “you’re paying me anyways—if you didn’t like it you’d fire me.”

He knew you were right, sipping quietly at his coffee in response.

He was frustrating, predictable, and painfully superficial. 

Every date was an exercise in appearances—perfectly tailored suits, dinner at the most exclusive places, charm turned up to eleven. And yet, none of it ever stuck. He was overcompensating and you weren’t sure why.

He was a good guy, down to his core, and in the five years you had worked with him there was never a moment you thought he didn’t deserve love, he was perfect. Too perfect.

That was the problem.

“You know, you’re like prime age to be a sugar daddy,” you tease him, knowing how he felt about the topic, “there’s plenty of apps that I can—”

“You’re relentless,” he grumbles, “if you ever did that, I’m firing you on the spot.”

“You wouldn’t,” it was a gentle challenge, smirk flashing across your face as he returned it with fondness, “without me you would crash and burn, Mr. Castillo.”

And he knows it.

–

The gala is a bust.

So, as a bandaid to his wounded ego, you order takeout and keep him company in his big, lavish apartment—it wasn’t the first time, it wouldn’t be the last.

You knew what the issue was, but there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that told you he wouldn’t receive the information well.

It was after every failed date, every expensive dinner.

They saw him at the surface, the charming man with an easy, warm smile.

You saw the man who kicked his shoes off and stripped himself of his suit jacket the second he walked through the door, who couldn’t resist a late-night binge of his newest streaming obsession, someone who insisted on stirring his coffee counterclockwise because it made it taste better, a man would text you pictures of squirrels in the park that he would feed on his way home.

It wasn’t that you were pining over him. You just knew him better than anyone.

“Why are you so dead set on marriage?” you ask him over dinner, turned toward him on the couch as he reaches for the remote to pause the show on screen.

He’s had this conversation before, but he’s never asked you any questions on the matter.

“What’s your opinion on it?” he’s avoiding, clearly, but you’ll bite.

“I don’t date, I’m not interested, signing a piece of paper isn’t going to signify my feelings toward someone if it came down to that,” you admit, “I’m not cynical, marriage is fine, but this stuff takes time,”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” Harry gripes, arms reaching over the back of the couch as he mirrors your position.

“Oh, please,” you scoff, “you’re forty-nine.”

“Almost fifty,” he corrects, “I’m ancient.”

“O-kay,” you sigh, “do you want honesty?”

“I’d hope you were being honest with me all the time.”

“No,” you laugh softly, “like…brutal fucking honesty?”

He’s silent, but attentive. 

“You keep choosing women who treat you like they’re next getaway vacation and you fall for it every time,” his forehead creases at the words, looking hurt by your words, “I see your bank payments every month, the activity—”

“It’s not like money is an issue,” he defends, causing you to sigh dramatically and fall back against the arm of the couch in faux distress.

“This is impossible,” you groan, staring up at the ceiling before you feel his hand circle around your wrist, tugging gently,

“Okay, I’m listening,” Harry says softly, pulling you upright, “I’m sorry—I am.”

“You want it to work so bad,” you tell him, “I see it—every time you approach someone you put on that smile and it works, but you’re giving so much and yeah, maybe some of them like that, but I’m sure a few would just enjoy a nice dinner here, or something simple. I think you forget to realize that someone can just be interested in you, for you, not for what you are or have,”

It’s profound, the way his face softens at your words, his touch still lingering around your wrist.

You’ve never even considered or entertained the idea that you might find Harry attractive or even attainable—for one, you had signed a contract that agreed to a professional work relationship, as a benefit for both of you, not that he ever had any intention to begin with.

You’ve been with him for so long, it feels, a fresh and young mind to help keep him active and busy, constantly refreshing ideas and helping him not feel like he was stuck, and you were damn good at taking care of him when he’s often tended to neglect himself.

The only thing you know is that he’s never looked at you like that.

Like you could see straight through him, all his flaws on display.

But, that was because you knew all of them.

You knew everything about him, even the worse bits.

His bad habits, his self-inflicting ones, everything that he refused to bring to the surface.

Harry’s fingers still lingered around your wrist, the weight of your words sinking in. 

But then, just like he always did, he broke the tension with a huff of laughter and frowns as he brushed you off.

“You just think I’m a sucker, don’t you?”

You shook your head with a faint smile, returning your arm to your lap.

“No—I think you like to see the good in people. So much good that you’re willing to ignore red flags.”

“Jeez,” he chuckled, clutching his stomach like you had physically wounded him, “that hurt.”

You shrugged and reached for the remote to resume the picture on screen, “You’ll survive.”

–

It was your day off—Sunday, the one day.

“Have you seen my cufflinks laying around?” he asked over the video call, “Shit—my tie, too. I can’t find it anywhere. I thought you said you laid it out for me.”

“No, I said I had it hung up and for you to lay it out before you showered,” you correct him, laying tiredly on your couch as you watched him search around frantically, hair damp and his bare shoulders on display, only catching the briefest glimpses of the towel around his waist as he turned the camera around, “Waitwait—go back!”

“There’s no fucking way you saw it,” Harry argues, “I’ve been looking for the last ten minutes—”

“In the pocket of your suit, the tie is there,” you tell him, “and given that you probably tossed the suit on the bed like you always do, the cufflinks are probably somewhere hiding under the blanket,”

He tosses you against the mattress, your screen succumbing to darkness as you wait, some shifting of the sheets before you hear him make a sound before he appears again, cufflinks pinched between his fingers and a look of defeat on his face.

“What would you do without me?” you ask with a cocky grin, finger hovering over the end call button as he shakes his head.

“What was this for again?” Harry asks curiously, laying you down upright as you caught a glimpse of his bare chest as he shrugged the crisp, white button down over his shoulders.

“It’s a charity auction, your favorite,” you chirp, “and you’re flying solo, so—don’t do anything stupid or…crass,”

“If I paid you double a day of work would you go?” Harry asks after a long pause, glancing down at the screen, “Triple?”

“Triple?!” you gawk, “see—you’re insane, this is what I’m talking about,”

He chuckles despite your response, “You’re good at keeping the sharks away,”

There were particular hawking businessmen who made it their mission to hunt Harry down at events and keep him occupied, eager to do business, whatever it may be—you were the unspoken master of redirection, as much as he refused to admit it.

“Can we grab dinner on the way?” 

“Burgers?” Harry asks, perking up slightly.

It was a constant go-to for you and him.

You nod through the screen, “Don’t even bother with the tie either, I’ll do it.”

–

“I can’t believe you roped me into this on my day off,” you whisper at his side, earning a half-smirk from him.

The charity auction was as lavish as you’d expected.

Crystal chandeliers, gold accents, and far too much champagne and hors d'oeuvres. 

Harry’s hand found the small of your back the moment you arrived, steering you through a sea of designer gowns and tuxedos, feeling uncomfortable in the tight dress and stilettos that you only wore on rare occasions, biting at your heels.

“You’ll survive,” he grins, grabbing you both a glass of champagne and pressing it into your waiting fingers, “I’m gonna…peruse, alright?”

“Don’t say it—that just makes you sound like a creep,” your face scrunches up in disgust as you sip at the alcohol, “just go—go, I’ll…handle everything else.”

The evening passed in a blur of small talk and polite smiles, but somewhere between the endless speeches and bidding wars, you found yourself on the balcony, the cool night air a welcome relief in the stuffy ballroom.

You smell him before you see him, the thick and rich scent of his cologne so familiar you swear you could find him on that alone, turning over your shoulder to see him closing the door quietly, cigarette pack tucked in his palm as he approached with a neutral expression.

“You okay?” you ask, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and then plucking a single cigarette from the box, “Honestly? I’m just tired of it.”

“The auctions? Charity?” you inquire, a small smile tugging at your face.

“All of it.” He looked at you, his gaze lingering as he lit the tobacco, “The events, the dates, searching for—I don’t even fucking know at this point,”

“The offer stands���” you say jokingly, though he knows exactly where this is heading.

“If I wanted a sugar baby I’d find one.”

Your eyes roam over his figure as he puffs at the cigarette, pulling a deep laugh from his chest before you’re pushing him away playfully.

“Let’s go,” he tells you with a deep sigh, stubbing out the end of the cigarette and tucking it away for later, tossing his arm over your shoulder as he readied to guide you through the crowd, always protective in spaces like this, another thing that was special to him.

–

The ride home is quiet, like it always is, both of you sitting in the backseat with the partition up, watching as he looked through his phone with a scowl, occasional typing and sending a message.

Eventually, he looks at you.

“Thank you,” He says with a soft tone, “I know this isn’t your favorite thing to do.”

You tilted your head into the headrest and smiled, crossing one thigh over the other as you worked at your heels to remove them, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad—the free alcohol is always a plus.”

He chuckled at that, silently helping you remove your shoes with a soft squeeze to your foot.

That was normal—but, it forces you to pause.

His natural instinct to help, to touch, to comfort you.

Your brow furrows at the gesture before you shake it away, blaming it on the buzz of alcohol in your system, watching as he continues the gesture with the other foot.

“Having you there makes it bearable, is all,” he explains, looking up at you briefly as he undid the tie around your ankle, “you…calm me, I guess.”

You swallowed. Hard.

The warmth of his words lingering in your chest, in his touch against your ankle, “You’d do the same for me.”

And he would—if you ever needed anything, anything, Harry was there.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “without question.”

The sincerity caught you off guard. 

You turned to study him, the familiar slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. There was something about the way he looked tonight—tired, maybe, but softer. 

And he keeps looking at you, checking.

The car moved smoothly through the dimly lit streets, the city blurring past in streaks of gold and blues and reds. The hum of the engine was steady, the faint sound of music barely audible from the front, through the glass, the back lit up dimly by the trim of lights on the roof and door.

Harry leaned back, one hand moved against the seat, his other hand dragging slowly over his thigh—restless. 

Instinctually, without thinking, you reached for his hand.

It wasn’t purposeful. Just a simple act of absentmindedness.

You’ve done it a hundred times before. 

Tugged at his sleeves to fix his cufflinks, brushed lint from his lapel or pants, adjusted the collar of his shirts. Constantly fixed his hair, touching him wasn’t new.

His skin was warm. Not hot, not cold.

You felt the slight twitch of his hand, like he was debating whether to move. Instead, his fingers shifted, just a fraction, enough that the edge of his thumbnail brushed over the inside of your wrist.

The contact was thoughtless, nothing.

But, in the same moment, it felt like everything.

The way his eyes watched the movement, roamed your body like they had before but with a different implication, his eyes half-lidded and relaxed, wondering how much alcohol he had consumed himself—this wasn’t friendly.

And it definitely wasn’t professional.

Harry’s gaze was on you now, your face, as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his hand.

Then his thumb moved. 

Up. 

Barely. 

A soft drag along your pulse.

It was half a decade of avoidance, defeat in his heart and mind, and fear in your own.

Broken, by the car rolling to a stop outside of Harry’s apartment building.

“We’re here, Mr. Castillo,” the voice of the driver came from the front, a nod of acknowledgement as his hand slipped from yours.

“Oh, hold on,” you were scooting aside to let him out, readied for the next stop as he cocks his head toward the building, “I’ve got something for you—I’ll drive you home, don’t worry,”

“Harry,” you stress, looking down at his hand that waves you toward him, extending out for you to grab, insistently as his fingers wiggle in wait.

Turns out, he wasn’t totally lying.

That something was accompanied by a seven thousand dollar bottle of Leroz Aux Brulees—you knew that because you had purchased it during his trip to France, the supposed city of love.

“I’m going to murder you,” you tell him as he places the bottle on the counter and keeps the closed case of mystery at his side, “hide your body, flee country—I hate surprises, you know that.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he grins, popping the cork on the bottle and pouring two hefty glasses, eyeing the deep red as it glugged into the glass.

“You know, if you wanted company you could have just asked,” you tell him, “I get it, you’re lonely,”

He knows you’re only teasing but it stings nonetheless, both of you taking a long and heavy sip as his fingers swirl over the velvet casing before he’s pushing it over quickly, tapping it with his fingers, “Open it,” he encourages, eyeing you over the rim.

You place your glass down and pry it open slowly, carefully, like you were deconstructing a bomb, but as the piece inside comes into view you find yourself at a loss for words or thoughts.

Your eyes are wide, staring up at him with parted lips that tingled from the lingering alcohol, knowing you should have cut yourself off at one glass of champagne and refused to come inside, that you should have just went home and enjoyed what little bit of the day you had left to yourself.

Now, you were looking back at a necklace so delicate you were afraid to stare at it too long, embedded with a cluster of diamonds and nearly two years of your rent if you were doing the math correctly in your mind.

Always about the numbers, Harry constantly teased.

“I saw how you looked at it the other day,” he admits, “and I owe you a hell of a lot more, but it…I’m trying to say thank you for…being you,”

“I’m not taking that,” you refuse with a laugh of disbelief, sliding back over to him gently, downing the rest of your wine in one go to forget how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“You are,” Harry insists, “consider it a bonus—Christmas is in a couple months, too.”

“You know…this is exactly that kind of stuff a sugar da—”

Harry makes a noise, shaking his head.

You bite your lip in thought, ignoring his subtle annoyance at your comment.

It was fucking beautiful, really.

You sigh, using one finger to turn the case back toward you, examining it closely.

Quietly, Harry presses his glass into the counter and rounds the edge toward you, his chest at your shoulder as he reaches for the jewelry, working carefully at the clasp before he’s motioning for you to relax your shoulders.

It wasn’t the stillness of the moment, but his touch, again.

He’s methodical in the way he touches you, dragging his hand around your neck as he fits the necklace into place, his fingertips pressing against the column of your throat in a way that tickles slightly, shifting uncomfortably until you hear the faint click and he breathes behind you, hands resting at your shoulders.

You’re not sure why he hasn’t moved, but you find yourself turning to speak.

“I’m just going to call an uber,” you tell him, “probably shouldn’t drive since we’ve both been drinking,”

“Yeah,” he agrees, but it sounds hollow, his eyes not following you as you move.

You hop from the chair and bend down to grab your shoes, but his hand is curling around your bicep and pulling you up and he’s staring again, the charge of his touch sending a jolt through your body as freeze,

“Come here,” he beckons, too natural.

And you listen.

He’s soft, every part of him. Skin, clothes, hair, lips.

He’s kissing you gently, like you might break, but you can tell he wants more.

Needs more.

“Are you going to regret this tomorrow?” you find yourself asking as he parts from you, licking at his lips as you both take a breath, letting the moment settle.

He shakes his head, “Are you?”

“Maybe,” you answer honestly, “maybe…not—fuck, I don’t know,”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he promises, but you knew that was a lie.

Still, you nod in understanding.

–

He’s so tender with his touch, slipping you out of the dress in the dim light of his room.

Even softer as he guides you to your back and spreads himself on his belly between your legs, fingers interlocked with his at your hips as he buries his nose between your folds, his tongue splitting your cunt open in a sharp gasp that has you throwing your head back. His lips traced a slow, deliberate path down your body, igniting sparks along every inch of your skin. 

He kissed along the curve of your thighs, teasing, tasting, until the tension was unbearable and with each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, it pulled you deeper into a haze of heady desire. 

This was reckless, dangerous, but neither of you found the moment to pause and think.

You wonder if things had been building to this for a while—if it was always supposed to happen this way or if he was acting off of greed; lust and companionship, even if just for a night.

You know you can ask him to stop at any point and he would, but even as his tongue brings you to your first orgasm of the night and he’s guiding you to your stomach, reaching blindly into his bedside table for a foil wrapping the crinkles loudly in the silence, you want this.

It was embarrassing how badly you wanted this.

He fucks you slow, too. 

It was torturous, his chest flat against your back as he palms his cock and feeds it into you.

You don’t talk, neither does he.

But, his low moans and stuttering breaths speak for him.

If you could see him, you’d know how furrowed his brow would be, a hand sliding over the curve of your ass until he can reach your thigh, beckoning for you to raise it without speaking.

You oblige, the angle of his thrusts changing on a dime.

“I can’t believe you’re real sometimes,” he admits like he’s confessing a sin.

“Please,” you plead—please stop talking, please keep going, please fuck me.

You couldn’t decide.

You feel him nod where his forehead is pressed between your shoulder blades as his fist curls into the sheet beside your head.

“Another, gimme another,” he pleads, the fingers on his other hand curling under your neck to life your chin, not expecting to meet his eyes as he leans over you.

The expression on his face so raw it makes you flutter around him, his lips parting in a deep, guttural groan, “I know you can,” he nods hurriedly.

And damn, does the praise work.

Your whimper breaks him, breathing out shakily as you locked eyes when he comes, slow and forceful thrusts until you’re nothing but an exhausted pile of tangled limbs.

“Greedy girl,” he comments through the haze, a weak giggle bubbling from your chest.

He pulls out slowly, a low grunt as he does so.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you wake to a startling amount of weight over your stomach, an arm splayed possessively, the faint outline of a ring as you drag your hand over the limb.

It’s only as your eyes pry open that reality hits you, stumbling out of bed quickly.

No…nononono, where the fuck were your clothes? Jesus.

You stumble around half awake, searching for the silk dress on the floor, feeling accomplished when you find it and hastily redressing yourself as Harry stirs in bed, encouraging you to hurry, to slip out before he can say anything.

Your shoes are already on and you’re reaching for the doorknob when the voice comes, the weight of the necklace that still remained on your neck, two empty glasses of wine on the counter, a night of hasty choices and urgency laid out like a crime scene as his voice rings out from behind you, pleading.

“Don’t—don’t go,” Harry begs, “You don’t have to go,”

So much of this was wrong—it complicated everything.

Your life, your job, your relationship with him.

He can see you slipping, fingers inching toward the knob as he approaches you in a hurry, barefoot and shirtless, the kind of scene you shouldn’t be comforted with, like this was all normal to the both of you.

You’ve seen him like this a thousand times, but not when he’s looking at you so vulnerable, heart tore open and stapled to his chest, beating against your own as his hands splayed out over your cheeks.

“I don’t regret it,” he assures you again, “so please—stay, okay?”

“What changed?” you ask, voice trembling, “Five years, Harry. Five.”

“I’ve been running in circles this entire time,” he admits, “you know it—I know it.”

You had been there the entire time, learning every part of him without judgement, cataloging his flaws and skills, learning how he ticked and what motivated him. You had never quite settled on the ideal person to fit in his life as his partner, it surely wasn’t you.

It couldn’t be you.

“Please, don’t go,” Harry echoed once more.

The sick, cruel joke of it all was that this was your job. 

You had nowhere to go. If it was any other morning, you would just be arriving, leaving his breakfast in the kitchen and starting your day.

You nod solemnly, “Of course, Mr. Castillo.”

It was painstaking, forcing the mask back on.

But, you couldn’t deal with this now.

Or ever, even.

Harry looks at you with a confused sadness, thumbs rubbing at your cheekbones before his hands fall to his side.

You’d figure this out, you always did.

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[lavenderspence]

Bump Relief - S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try

Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife? 

A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy! 

masterlist | requests are closed!

Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were. 

He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years. 

But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.

At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you. 

But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester. 

Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose. 

He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it. 

Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped. 

He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack. 

He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it. 

But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more. 

He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again. 

Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though. 

“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts. 

“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.” 

“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.

“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through. 

“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow. 

He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes. 

“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.

You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath. 

Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really. 

It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop. 

Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly. 

You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.  

Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes. 

Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.

You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door. 

“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad. 

You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”

You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over. 

Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.

“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.

“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work. 

“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch. 

With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours. 

“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words. 

“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there. 

His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too. 

“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise. 

You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up. 

“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe. 

He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down. 

“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”

“What are we doing again?” 

“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper. 

“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved,  thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband. 

“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment. 

“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care. 

He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[inkandapex]

you're worth it

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris and Y/N share an undeniable connection, but the pressures of F1 and personal hesitation have kept them in the "just friends" zone. Despite their close bond, an unspoken tension hangs between them, each moment charged with what-ifs. With a little nudge from fate, aka, their best friend Max, the two are pushed to give things another shot. Will Lando find the courage to make his move, or will Y/N slip through his fingers, forever just out of reach?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of anxiety.

Lando’s season had been anything but smooth sailing. Sure, the car was leagues ahead of where it had been, delivering near-constant podiums and even his long-awaited first race win. He was sitting second in the championship, closer to the title than he’d ever been. On paper, it was a dream season. But pressure had a funny way of twisting even the sweetest moments into something suffocating.

Lando had always been good at managing the weight of the sport—keeping his mind sharp, his body stronger. But even the best-built machines showed signs of wear. His friends saw it in the way his laughter didn’t reach his eyes. His team noticed the uncharacteristic silence between debriefs. His fans, ever watchful, caught glimpses of something heavier behind the usual smiles.

Now, with a rare break in the chaos, it was clear that he didn’t just need rest. He needed reinforcements.

“The food I ordered half an hour ago? Yeah… they just told me the restaurant’s actually closed now,” Lando muttered

Max blinked, mouth slightly open. “So… they told you there’s no food, and you died on Tarkov? That’s a double fucking shitter, my jeez.” He dragged a hand down his face, visibly pained for his best mate.

Lando let out a defeated laugh. “Hasn’t exactly been the best couple of months for me, really.”

Max exhaled. “Mate, you need a personal chef or something. You’ve got too much on your plate.”

“I actually have nothing on my plate right now, funnily enough.”

“Right, well—eating weeks-old frozen food from your fridge isn’t exactly the fix, is it?” Max sighed, already knowing that’s exactly what Lando was about to do.

"Don't really have much of a choice now don't I mate?"

"Chat's saying you need a girlfriend" Max states rather matter of factly

"You could say that again"

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

A series of persistent knocks, followed by the sharp buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand, dragged Lando from the depths of sleep. He groaned, squinting against the soft morning light that seeped through the curtains, his brain sluggish as he reached for his phone.

A slight frown tugged at his face when he saw the caller—one of his closest friends. A couple of missed calls from both them and Max F. only deepened his confusion. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled his hoodie over his head and shuffled toward the door, answering the call as he went.

“Y/N? I just woke up—sorry, could you give me a minute? I’ll call you back, someone’s at the—” He stopped mid-sentence, mid-step.

Because standing on the other side of the door, phone still pressed to their ear, was Y/N. Bags in hand.

"Hey… Max told me you knew I was coming. Him and P just dropped me off. They’re out running a couple of errands," Y/N said, ending the call and slipping her phone into her pocket.

Lando blinked at her, still processing. "No, actually, he didn't. I didn’t even know he was coming here. Did you just get here, or?"

"I landed about two hours ago," she said with a soft laugh. "Been standing here for the past twenty minutes, though."

"Shit, my bad, Y/N. I really didn’t know." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, his brain scrambling to recall any moment where Max might have maybe mentioned this.

"Hey, it’s all good! Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden—I really should’ve reached out beforehand anyway. I just thought you and Max had already sorted it out."

"What? No, Y/N, don’t apologize, silly." Lando finally snapped out of his trance and stepped aside. "Come in—fuck, I mean, the apartment’s a mess, but make yourself at home." He quickly reached for some of her bags, ushering her inside before shutting the door behind them.

"What exactly did Max say?" Lando finally asked, still scrambling to pick up the mess scattered across his living room. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you, but this is just so... out of the blue."

"Honestly? He was worried," Y/N admitted, grabbing a few stray items to help. "Said you didn’t seem to be doing too well. Thought maybe you could use some company during the break. Listen, Lando, I came here thinking you knew about this. I completely understand if you’d rather be alone right now—I know you’re busy and all—"

"No!" Lando cut in, pausing mid-cleanup. His expression softened, and for the first time since opening the door, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. "I'm… I'm really glad you're here. Max is right. It hasn’t been easy." He exhaled, offering her a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thank you. For being here. I really appreciate it."

Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he spread his arms. "You gonna hug me, or are you just gonna stand there?"

Y/N let out a small laugh, relief washing over her as she finally saw that familiar spark in his eyes. Taking a few steps forward, she let Lando wrap her in a tight hug, his hold warm, grounding. Exactly what he hadn’t realized he needed.

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

The first day of Y/N being there was more housekeeping than anything else. Between cleaning up Lando’s apartment, clearing out the fridge, and fixing up the guest room, the day passed in a blur of chores. By the time Max and P finally arrived, the boys volunteered to head out and pick up some late lunch—partly because there was absolutely nothing to eat at Lando’s place, and partly so Max could finally discuss the sly plan he had cooked up.

A heavy silence filled the car as Lando gripped the wheel, his knuckles tightening against the leather.

"You’re awfully quiet," Max finally said, side-eyeing his best friend from the passenger seat.

"Oh yeah? Wonder why," Lando bit back. "Maybe ‘cause my best friend decided to go behind my back and plan shit without telling me. The fuck were you thinking not mentioning she was coming over to stay?"

"Mate, it was all in good conscience," Max said with an exaggerated sigh. "Plus, what happened between you two… it was months ago—"

"Exactly!" Lando snapped. "I haven’t even been back home to talk about it since. Fuck’s sake, Max… it’s weird enough I haven’t seen her in ages, but springing this on me? That’s insane, even for you."

Max groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why can’t the two of you just admit you like each other like the grown, mature adults you supposedly are and get on with it? It’s honestly exhausting."

"You know why."

"I actually don’t. Please, do explain. I’d love to hear whatever shit excuse you’ve got lined up. Go on then."

Lando let out a slow, tired sigh. "I’m busy, she’s busy. I can’t just drag her along with me and make her leave everything behind so we can be together. And you know how the media is, Max. I don’t want her dealing with all that hate. You’ve seen how bad it gets."

Max scoffed. "And what do you think she just did? She dropped everything to be with you when you needed her, yeah? Her choice. She’s already doing work at Quadrant—her own volition, might I add—on top of her own career. And might I remind you, you were the one who didn’t want to go through with it. From what I heard, she was willing to make it work."

"Yeah?" Lando let out a dry laugh. "From what you heard?"

Max smirked. "Fine. P told me."

"Lando, mate. If it all goes to shit—not that I think it will—I’m sure you’ll sort it out. She cares about you. And I know you feel the same way about her."

Lando sighed, pulling into the parking lot and turning off the engine. He leaned back against the seat for a moment before finally looking over at Max.

"I know you have good intentions," he admitted. "And despite how insane this is, I do appreciate it. I’ll… see where it goes." Then, with a smirk, he nodded toward the door. "Now go pick up the food, ‘cause I’m fucking starving."

Max narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at him as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "This conversation is not over, by the way."

Lando just laughed, shaking his head as Max climbed out of the car.

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

Lando woke up to the unfamiliar yet oddly comforting sounds of pots clanking and the scent of food filling his apartment. It was so foreign that, for a second, he thought he was dreaming. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled out of his room, hair a complete mess, barely awake.

"Morning," Y/N greeted, smiling as she wiped her hands on a tea towel. "There’s breakfast on the counter. I’ve got meals sorted out for the rest of the week—followed your diet, so don’t worry."

Lando blinked at her, then at the kitchen, which now looked like a fully stocked catering service. "It’s 9 in the fucking morning, Y/N. What time did you get up for all this?"

"Like… 6:30?"

"Y/N"

"What? I have jet lag."

Lando squinted at her. "We’re in Monaco. London is one hour behind."

"Okay, fine," she sighed. "I wanted to make sure I had it ready for you. It’s nothing, really—it didn’t take me too long."

"Nothing?" Lando gestured at the sea of neatly packed containers. "My kitchen looks like McLaren hospitality right now."

"It’s not a big deal, Lan, really, I—"

Lando didn’t let her finish. He reached out, gently grabbing her hand and stopping her from cleaning. "Could you—please slow down for a sec?" His voice was softer now, his brows furrowing as he tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. "Y/N, you don’t have to do all this. You don’t have to take care of me."

Lando sighed deeply, his arms instinctively pulling Y/N into a tight hug. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his heart heavy. "I don't deserve you."

Y/N’s arms wrapped around him, her voice soft as she spoke, her thumbs tracing gentle circles on his back. "You have me, either way"

Lando pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression clouded. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. "Look, Y/N... we can't. I can't do this right now. What I said about us—about this, months ago... that's still how I feel. I like you... a lot, trust me, I do. But this is too much, and I can't possibly ask you to—"

He couldn’t keep eye contact, his gaze drifting as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

Y/N took a step back but stayed close, her eyes searching his. She offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I get it, Lan. I’m here for you. As a friend." She took a deep breath. "What I said, about me wanting to be here... to do this with you... I meant that too. I still feel that way. I told you I can wait. You’re worth it."

"You two done being sappy, or should I give you a couple more minutes?" Max's voice echoed through the apartment, making both Lando and Y/N jump and scramble to step away from each other in a panic.

"You little shit, how long have you been stood there listening? You fucking weirdo." In a swift motion, Lando grabbed the nearest object, a spatula, and tossed it across the room. It flew past Max’s head, narrowly missing him as he stood frozen in the middle of the living room.

"So sorry, guys. I told him not to come in without knocking." P finally steps into the apartment, giving Max a pinch on his side. Max let out an exaggerated yelp, squirming away from her with a pained expression.

"Ow! Everyone’s so violent this morning," Max groaned, rubbing his side as P smirked, clearly satisfied with herself.

"You're ridiculous. Just gonna run to the bathroom real quick then we can have breakfast and plan the rest of our day" Lando shook his head with a groan, but a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaves the room

Max took the chance to walk over to Y/N, who was quietly setting the table for breakfast. "You good?" he asked, his voice low, careful not to let Lando hear.

Y/N glanced up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Take a wild guess, Max. Bet you heard enough to figure out how I'm doing right now." She let out a quiet laugh, but it was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place, defeat, maybe?

Max took a breath, his tone shifting to something gentler, more understanding. "Look, he... you know how he is. As much as I want this for the two of you, you don’t have to wait for him. He can’t just expect you to be there until he’s finally ready. No one’s gonna hold it against you." His voice dropped.

Y/N shook her head slightly, her smile softening. "You’re really sweet, Max, but I’m okay. I promise." She was careful, though, making sure her words felt sincere.

Max gave her a small, thoughtful nod. "Just trying to look out for the two of you is all."

"I know," Y/N replied. She didn’t need Max’s concern to know what was best for her, but it was comforting, knowing that someone understood.

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

Several races had passed since Y/N was last at Lando's apartment. Despite the distance, they’d kept in close contact—calls, texts, little check-ins whenever they could steal a moment. Lando was clearly doing better, each conversation revealing just how much he’d grown over the past few weeks.

Now, it was the Singapore Grand Prix weekend, and Y/N had finally managed to take some time off work. She’d been counting down the days until she could see Lando again, her excitement mingled with the kind of nervous energy that had been building up ever since she booked her flight. The anticipation was almost unbearable, especially when she considered how much her feelings for him had grown since their last conversation.

Despite the distance, despite all the unsaid things, she found herself thinking about him more and more, how his laugh had sounded over the phone, how his presence felt like a comfort when they’d been together. But now, standing outside of Mclaren's hospitality, waiting for Lando to step out his driver room after finishing free practice, everything felt good.

"Y/N! Hey, haven’t seen you around in a while. How have you been?" Zach, a close friend of Oscar Piastri, and someone Y/N had become friends with, walked over with a smile.

"Zach, it’s good to see you. I’m great, just been busy with work is all. The car seems good, Lando and Oscar are driving really well too" Y/N replied with a warm smile, happy to see a familiar face in the paddock.

"Things are looking great. We’re doing really well in the constructors, too. You waiting for Lando?" Zach asked, leaning against the railing casually.

"Mhmm, I’m catching a ride with him back to the hotel. He texted me, he’d be out in a bit." Y/N explained, glancing down at her phone to check for any updates from Lando.

"Right... listen. Are you free any time this weekend? Maybe even after the race? I was thinking—"

"Ready to go?" Lando's voice cut in, and he walked over to the pair, bag slung over his shoulder and phone in hand. "Oh, hey man, sorry, we gotta go. Got some friends waiting for us."

Zach smiled, stepping back. "Oh, don’t let me hold you back. I’ll see you around, Y/N. You still got my number, right?"

"Yep, I’ll catch up with you next time," Y/N said, giving Zach a friendly nod.

"Perfect. Hope you enjoy the weekend. It’s great having you back in the paddock," Zach said with a grin, stepping in to give Y/N a quick hug before patting Lando’s arm as he walked past. "Great stuff today, man. See you around."

Lando raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with slight bitterness as they walked toward the parking lot. "Didn’t know you two were close like that."

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, hello to you too, Lando. So great to see you after months, feels fantastic to finally be here with you."

Lando chuckled, though it was clear there was a hint of jealousy in his voice, "I didn’t mean it like that, just... you two seemed pretty chummy." He smirked at her, trying to play it off.

Y/N leaned back in the passenger seat, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't know, I actually think he's pretty cute."

Lando almost slammed the door shut in frustration, his face twisting into a scoff. "Cute? Right."

"What? You jealous?" Y/N teased, barely able to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm not," Lando grumbled, eyes focused on the road but his jaw clenched slightly.

"You so are. Your ears are red."

"I'm not" he repeated, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"So you don't mind if I go out for dinner with him after the race then?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone light but with a little edge, just to push his buttons. It was playful, but they both knew the boundaries—they weren’t together, not officially.

"No."

"No, you don't mind?" Y/N repeated, pressing him further.

"No, you can't" Lando snapped back, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

"Why?" she asked innocently, though a knowing smile played at her lips.

"Cause then you'll miss my victory party," Lando replied with a sly smirk, glancing over at her briefly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "Oh wow, cocky now, are we?" She let out a laugh, though deep down, she couldn't ignore how his confidence was somehow making him all the more attractive.

"Wow" Lando gasped dramatically, glancing over at her with exaggerated disbelief. "You don't think I'll win this weekend? You're breaking my heart, darling."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Don't get too cocky, Norris. The race isn't over until it's over."

"True," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I like to think I’ve got this in the bag. You better be there to celebrate my win, Y/N."

She met his gaze, her playful teasing giving way to something softer, something more real. "We'll see," she replied, a small but genuine smile on her face. "But if you win, I'll begin to think I'm your lucky charm."

Lando nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "You just might be."

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

"We’ve got this in the bag, Lando. Stick to Plan A, do what you do best, and we’ll take care of the rest. Focus on the drive, and if anything shifts, we’ll adjust. We’re counting on maximum points from you two tonight." Will, Lando's race engineer, pauses, his eyes locking with Lando's, waiting for confirmation after his brief but crucial words.

"Lando."

"Yeah yeah. Maximum points, drive fast, got it." Lando mutters, his response flat, his attention half there. As important as this race is, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. She’s in the garage, talking with Zach. His Y/N. The thought pulls at him in a way he can’t shake.

Will’s voice cuts through the haze. "I need 100% of your focus, Lando. The race starts in 30." He hands him his earplugs, but Lando’s gaze is distant.

"Yep, heard." Lando mutters again, his tone quieter, his mind still elsewhere as he turns to leave, the weight of his thoughts lingering like an anchor.

Y/N and Zach were in the middle of an easy, lighthearted conversation. Lando, across the garage, could only watch, his gaze sharpening as he noticed how comfortable Y/N and Zach looked together. The laughter between them, the way they stood too close, it ate at him.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lando’s voice cut through the air, direct and intense, as he strode toward them.

Y/N looked up at him, surprised but giving him a warm smile. "Yeah, what’s up? You nervous?" She didn’t get up from her seat, still in that calm, relaxed mood.

"Alone" Lando said, his tone sharper now, as the urgency in his words broke through.

"Oh—yeah, of course." She rose to follow him, a furrow crossing her brow, concerned by the intensity in his eyes. They walked towards a quieter corner of the garage, far enough from prying eyes and cameras.

As soon as they were alone, she looked at him. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to call Max or—"

Lando didn’t give her a chance to finish. "I don’t like this. You and him, talking... being all flirty. I don’t like it." The words spilled out of him faster than he could stop them, relief and frustration flooding his chest. It was all coming out at once.

Y/N blinked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I’m not flirting, Lando. He’s just a friend."

Lando’s frustration reached its peak. "I’m just a friend, Y/N! Fuck’s sake... I can’t get in the car like this, not with this on my mind. Not like this." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Hey, Lan. What’s going on? You wanted this—actually, no, you didn’t want anything right now, did you? You said so yourself. I’m not doing this to make you jealous or get back at you, He's just a friend. That’s it."

But Lando shook his head, his voice shaking with vulnerability. "I don’t know what I want, okay! But seeing you... with him? I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, though it held a touch of sadness. She gently took his hands in hers, stopping him from messing up his hair further. "You’re not gonna lose me, you silly boy."

Lando looked at her, searching her eyes for some sign that she understood, that she felt the same pull. "One kiss. Give me one kiss. Let’s pretend nothing else matters. Just right now, right here, with you. One kiss before I go." His voice was a whisper, full of longing and desperation.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing across his jawline as she spoke quietly, almost to herself. "Nothing else matters... I don’t have to pretend. You’re all I want, Lando. Why can’t you see that?"

Lando exhales quietly, his fingers grazing her cheek as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. They stand close, the world around them fading into the background, neither in a rush to break the moment. Their eyes meet, lingering, only flickering downward for the briefest second before finding each other again.

"You take corners faster than this—are you gonna kiss me, or should I send in a request for DRS?" Y/N teases, tilting her head with a smirk.

Lando leans in, closing the small space between them, his lips pressing firmly against hers. It’s not their first kiss, there had been fleeting moments before, small pecks here and there, brief touches exchanged in passing, but this is different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. Their movements are unhurried, deliberate. It’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken, deep and certain, carrying the weight of something that had been waiting to happen.

She’s the first to pull away, though neither of them really want to. But reality tugs at Lando, he has somewhere to be.

Before stepping back, he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, another lighter one at the corner of her mouth. His lips brush her cheek, then her forehead, a quiet farewell without words. When he finally pulls away, he catches the flush creeping up her neck and smirks.

"I'm quick when it matters," he murmurs. "But some things are worth taking my time on."

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

It was the kind of weekend that felt almost predestined, Lando wins in Singapore, by a massive 20-second gap to Verstappen in P2. But even with the trophy in his hands and the roar of the crowd in his ears, his eyes searched for only one thing.

And there she was.

Among the sea of faces, hers stood out effortlessly, beaming with pride, hands clapping in celebration. The victory was unforgettable, but this moment, seeing her there, cheering for him, was the one he’d carry with him forever.

Lando could hardly sit still. He’d been rocking on the balls of his feet, barely paying attention to the post-race interviews with Oscar, his mind already somewhere else. The second the cameras cut off, he was up, grabbing his things in record time, making Oscar chuckle at his urgency.

"Word in my garage is you’ve got yourself a little lucky charm now," Oscar smirked, watching as Lando fumbled with his phone, already dialing Y/N.

"Word spreads fast, huh?"

"Finally made a move?"

"Yeah, took me long enough," Lando laughed, giving his teammate a quick pat on the back as he pressed his phone to his ear.

The call barely rang before her teasing voice filled his speaker. "Why hello there, champ. Miss me already?"

A grin stretched across Lando’s face, warmth creeping up his chest. "Always, baby. Where are you? Need my post-race kiss, like, now."

"On your left."

Lando spun around, immediately spotting her seated outside the motorhome with Max and P. He didn’t even bother ending the call properly, just stuffed his phone in his pocket and made a beeline for her.

"There he is! Mr. 20-second lead. Mate, you were proper flying—"

Max didn’t even get to finish before Lando stopped behind Y/N’s chair, tilting her chin up and leaning down to kiss her. This one deeper, lingering, completely unbothered by the fact that they had company.

"Shit—when did this happen?" Max gaped, his arm tightening around P as if he needed something to ground him.

"Just before the race. Can’t believe you’re only finding out now, thought the whole paddock knew by now," Lando chuckled, hands rubbing Y/N’s shoulders as she sat there, visibly flustered, still adjusting to the attention.

"Well, damn. About time."

Y/N glanced up at Lando, still a little dazed, but the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her forget about everything else. He pressed one last kiss to the top of her head before leaning down, voice just for her.

“You’re my good luck charm.”

She laughed softly, squeezing his hand. “Guess that means I have to stick around then, huh?”

Lando grinned, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Oh, baby, you’re not going anywhere.”

[incognit0slut]

Stress Relief

You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer

Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘

A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.

You could tell something was off. 

A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air. 

"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"

Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.

"Babe?"

His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"

When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.

Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.

"Bad day at work?"

He slowly nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"Do you want a hug?"

He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.

"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"

You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.

Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.

"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"

His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" 

"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."

You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"

Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control? 

He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.

But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now. 

So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.

"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.

"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."

He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."

"What makes you think I need help?"

"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.

He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."

Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"

"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."

"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.

"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."

His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze. 

"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."

“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."

"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused." 

You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.

"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."

His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."

The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.

"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."

You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"

There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.

“I… I don't understand."

"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."

"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."

He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.

You swallowed hard.

"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."

He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.

"And what if I do?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know what I want."

He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"

You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."

His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."

You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."

He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.

"I want to see how far you'll go for me."

Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"

A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."

"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."

His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.

A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.

"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"

You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.

With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.

“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.

“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."

Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.

You wanted him to use your body.

“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.

His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. 

He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.

Mine, mine, mine.

"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."

You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.

"Do I make myself clear?"

You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."

His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room. 

With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.

You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.

His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt. 

Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.

He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.

Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."

Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.

The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.

His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.

The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.

You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.

Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.

"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”

You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.

"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."

Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. 

You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.

For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.

He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?" 

"Pl-Please touch me."

He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"

You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."

His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"

"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.

He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit. 

"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.

His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.

Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you. 

Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.

He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.

You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head.  But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.

"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"

He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one." 

How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.

Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.

His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.

Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.

It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.

You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.

He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds. 

You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.

"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."

Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.

"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"

You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"

Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you. 

And you liked it.

"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."

He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.

You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.

He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.

"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.

Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.

"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."

You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.

He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.

Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.

His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.

You were instantly gone.

A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his. 

“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.

He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.

Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.

Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.

You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor. 

After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.

“Are you okay?"

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."

He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""

"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."

"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.

"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"

He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach. 

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."

Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."

His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."

A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"

You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."

You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin. 

"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."

You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."

He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”

"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"

His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?" 

You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."

His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."

You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"

"I think we both need that nice warm bath."

You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"

He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you? 

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

[theorphicangel]

okay yes 'we can't be friends' links to ex bf! sukuna

in the sense that he keeps texting you about random shit or sending texts thinking you're jin and you're like ??? but he's like 'oh my mistake'

then he starts to call asking stupid questions or pretending like he accidentally called you when in reality he just wants to hear your voice.

he keeps texting you about so-called stuff you have left behind (you left nothing it's a plot to get you to come over)

so when you're standing in the doorway to his apartment for another wrong call about a shirt you supposedly left, you feel like this is the time to clear it all up.

'sukuna we can't be friends.'

he frowns. 'what do you mean?'

'I mean it, you need to stop calling and texting me over every little thing. if you see something of mine and i haven't asked for it back then maybe it's a sign you should throw it out. it's not good to keep in contact.'

sukuna shrugs, attempting to seem confused. 'I just don't want you complaining that you left something.'

'I'm not. and i won't ever because i have my things.' you state. 'if this is it then please don't call or text me again.'

ouch.

it's like a punch to his gut. or like his blood stopped circulating. his body turns numb and his throat closes up; unable to say anything in response as you say your goodbyes and leave sukuna standing alone in the doorway.

he mulls over your words. 'we can't be friends'

and the sinking feeling in his chest returns. like he's underwater and unable to come back to the surface for air, the weight of your words pulling him down. you've left him in pieces, in a daze, and you don't even care.

he shuts his door behind him and leans back with a sigh.

any other person would give up and move on. any other person would remove your number and vow to never contact you again.

but not sukuna.

no, he'll wait.

he'll wait for your love to come back round again. he'll wait until you like him again, waiting for your love.

because your love will come back. it always does.

right?

[kinichval]

cw: cockwarming, blowjob, penetration, implied exhibitionism, implied breeding.

pro-valorant player!kinich loves having you sit prettily on his cock while he plays video games with his friends. you're just there, head nuzzled in his neck, arms falling from his shoulders to his back, and pussy warmly wrapped around his dick.

it's so hard not to bounce on it when you can't keep think of anything else but to have his attention, you feel like dying at every second that pass without movement.

kinich is way too occupied with fighting for victory, he's not a loud gamer, but when he drops a few curses here and there—it's sultry and deep, fuck, it makes your pussy flutter and soak his dick with more of your fluids.

each click of his keyboard when his fingers press certain keys burn into your ear drums as if any more of those sounds will send you off the edge and start grinding. sometimes you loathe those noises because why aren't his fingers plunging in you instead? but no—you must resist the urges.

maybe the thick air of heat and undying need to be fucked makes time slower than it actually is, but lucky for you, kinich won't let you wait any longer because when he sees 'victory' on his screen, he relishes on his reward and allows you to finally (and happily) bounce on his cock.

or sometimes pro-valorant player!kinich would love to have you sucking on his cock under his gaming desk while he's fighting for his life (and rank) on a ranked game.

this was a fantasy come true, you were way too shy in admitting this one, but thankfully kinich is just as enticed with the idea as you. the next thing you know, the underside of his desk is cleared up only for you claim residency in.

the pleasure from your mouth is like a wave through his body. his fast paced fingers were slightly offbeat when all that dominates in his mind is how good you feel around him, how pliant and submissive you are as you suck him off; now, it wouldn't be a nice trade if you give him the best head of his life, but he loses this round, no?

he could read the complaints from his teammates that his gameplay is amiss, they don't know if kinich is slacking off or the opponents are actually stronger. but he doesn't care—maybe a little bit, his goal is to reach radiant—when his pretty girl is bobbing her head on his dick and glancing up to him with your pretty doe eyes, it's your way of supporting him as you were not into gaming as much as he does.

the tension in his lower body competes with his beating heart. adrenaline rushes through his veins for two reasons: one more win and victory is theirs, and fuck, he's close to cumming.

and goodness gracious was it a scene out of a movie when 'victory' comes up on his screen as he cums inside the warm cavern of your throat. fuck, that was the best head of his life.

however, when 'defeat' is flashed on his screen right at the last win needed for him to finally get out of immortal, pro-valorant player!kinich wastes no time in putting you in between him and his computer set up. your hands on his desk, shirt bunched up, bottoms down on your ankles, and he's seeking for the comfort of your pussy. but damn, his thrusts are hard and mean, a reflection of his frustration from that bitter loss.

your whines and moans get louder as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. his mic may or may not be still on, but that's the least of your worries right now.

"fuck, can i come inside?"