#my ask box is currently open if you have questions and i can try to help

[legacysam]

Hey, do you need health insurance? If you're in the US and you haven't enrolled in the ACA yet you absolutely should. The deadline is today, but I promise it's not too difficult, and you can get DIRT CHEAP insurance that will cover at least the basics for you for the coming year!

And when I say cheap I mean I was paying a $1 monthly premium, $5 for primary care visits, and $.05 (FIVE CENTS) for each three-month supply of my blood pressure meds this year. My costs are going up next year because I'm switching plans, but I am also getting vision and dental coverage! And my premium is still not that bad!

I know medical stuff and insurance can be overwhelming, but the ACA is such a good thing, it's so reassuring to have at least some insurance, even if it's a cheap little plan for a few bucks a month. Especially if you're feeling anxious or uncertain about how the next year is going to go, knowing that you can at least see a doctor if you get sick and get some meds without breaking the bank will be a load off your mind.

[reidrum]

close to home | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares

wc: 2.4k

summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar

_______________________________________________

Whenever the BAU has a case based in the D.C. area, it’s always a little easier on the team. Familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. The hard part about home cases is knowing there’s a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.

Spencer and Callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. The unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. Spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what Garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. Morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. He felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by Hotch and Garcia entering the bullpen.

“Police just got a 911 call about a break in, but there’s a witness this time. She was home when it happened and it looks like he didn’t expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. I think it sounds like our unsub. Morgan and Reid, I need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.” Hotch explained.

Morgan and Reid nodded as Garcia spoke up, “I just sent the address to your phones, it’s a house on Hillcrest so it's not that far from here.”

Spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say Hillcrest, “Did you say Hillcrest?”

“Yeah, Hillcrest Drive. It’s like, a 15 minute drive, not that far.”

He felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. That was the street you lived on. He tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.

“Garcia, what’s the house number?”

“Reid, I already sent it to your pho-“

“Garcia, what is the house number,” he spoke again. 

Please don’t say 1159. Please don’t say 1159. Please don’t say-

“1159.”

Fuck. The color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. Spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you. Last night? This morning? He doesn’t check on you as much as he does when he’s not on a case, but oh my god why can’t he remember the last time he saw you.

“Reid,” Hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, “What is it? What do you know?”

He shook his head, “Nothing. Morgan, let’s go.” he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.

Morgan, Garcia, and Hotch all looked at each other in concern, before Morgan spoke up, “I’ll see what’s up.” The latter two nodded softly, though the worry didn’t let up in their eyes.

Morgan walked up to the car to find Spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.

Spencer was alerted by Morgan’s presence hearing the car unlock but he didn’t even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. Morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.

“Okay Reid, spill it. It’s obvious you know who lives here.” Morgan speaks up.

“Just drive, please.”

��Because if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.”

“Morgan, just drive.” he borderline yells.

He raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, “Listen kid, i’m just trying to help you. I can see you’re upset but we’re on the same side, you know that.”

Spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didn’t even know about. He’d kept you a secret for many reasons— your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. After what happened with Maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didn’t get tangled up in his line of work.

Some job he did of that.

The one thing he regrets about how he handled the Maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. For not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. He’d always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.

He loved you so much. You were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. A breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. You were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. He still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.

“Any risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.”

Tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. If you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.

He cleared his throat, and Morgan’s ears perked up, “My uh, my girlfriend lives there. Where the unsub, at- attacked.” he voiced softly.

Morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, Spencer missing the way his face dropped. He tightened his hands on the wheels, and without hesitation he turned the lights and siren on and shifted gears to speed up.

__

The car pulled onto your street and the first thing Spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. Morgan doesn’t even put the car in park before Spencer’s bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.

He’s asking all the paramedics he’s passing if they’ve seen you or know if you’re being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didn’t know. The tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.

He whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and he’s never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. You watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. He’s definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. He’s overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows you’re safe and okay.

“Hi,” you choke out muffled, “Funny seeing you here.”

He pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. His heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.

“Hi, honey,” he lets out tearfully, “Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not. But what did the paramedics say? Did they give you anything? Are you sure they checked all your injuries? You know what, let me go call the guy over. I’ll be two seconds.” his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck you’re sat in to find the emt.

Upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.

You were okay, but at what cost.

The EMT leaves you two and Spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight he’s hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. It’s at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.

Spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as you’re attempting to beat your body’s fear response. The slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.

“It’s over, baby, they won’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

You sniffle, “I know, I just can’t believe this happened. To me. To us. It’s not fair to you.” trailing off the last two words.

“To me? Wh- what do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, “I don’t mean to bring it up again, I just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience you’ve had. and I hoped that I wouldn’t be in a position to make you feel that way again. I don’t know why this happened, I'm sorry.”

He looked down at you incredulously, genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. It was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.

“Oh sweetheart,” he chokes out, realizing you’ve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, “What happened is not your fault, do you understand me? My job is to always worry about you and your safety. When Garcia said the address I…I couldn’t even process it, I don’t even know how I got to the car,” he shook his head, “But I am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. I will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?”

“Okay,” you take a shaky breath, “I love you.”

“I love you.” he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

Both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be SSA Derek Morgan. You knew Spencer hadn’t told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.

Spencer’s grip didn’t let up when he bent down and whispered, “It’s okay, he knows.” You look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.

“Reid, I already talked to the detectives and we’re good to go when you’re ready,” he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, “Hi sweetheart, I’m Derek Morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, “Hi Derek, I’ve heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you too.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” he sighs, “Listen, I know it’s all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if you’re able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat before protesting, “Absolutely not. We can do it later, it’s fine.”

“Reid-“

You look up at him placing your hand on his chest, “Spence, It’s okay. I want to help, please.”

He rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, “Okay, but i’m not leaving you alone for a second.”

“I didn’t think you would.” you smile.

“Alright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.” Derek teases.

Spencer groans, “See, this is why i didn’t say anything.”

“You think I’m bad? Wait till Penelope meets her.”

__

The three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to Spencer’s apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. You end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. Spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.

“She’s cute,” Derek starts, “Can I ask how long?”

“Nine months.” he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.

“Pretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? Maybe we’re not as good profilers as we thought.”

“Imagine that,” he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, “Look.”

Spencer’s holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and Spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. You’re sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. The first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. The second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. The last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.

The edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. It was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.

“You look really happy, kid.” Derek says, thinking about the many times he’s seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering he’s had at the hands of his job. His heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.

“I am.”

[aliceoseman]

Heartstopper S3 Q&A weekend!

Hello everyone! I don't usually use this blog to answer questions, but I've been wanting to answer some of your questions about season 3 of Heartstopper, and I figure this is probably the best place for it!

It's nearly 2 months since the release of S3 and I'd love to go on a deep dive with you all. I always feel like I don't express myself very well in interviews, so I feel more comfortable getting to express myself in the written word here! You may have questions about characters, relationships, themes, production, music, animation, and more... I shall try my best to share some interesting behind-the-scenes trivia!!

Please keep your questions relevant to season 3 of Heartstopper - I probably won't answer them if they're about anything else!

The ask box will be open from now through this weekend, so you have about 2 and a half days to send your questions. I'll answer what I can, probably slowly over the next week or two! I won't get around to answering everyone's question though, I'm sorry in advance! You're welcome to share the answers on other social medias if you'd like to.

If you don't want to see Q&A answers and are simply here for the fan art, please block the tag 'heartstopper s3 q&a'.

*

Also, just to get a few FAQs out of the way:

Season 4: I don't have anything more to share about season 4 right now, I'm sorry! As I've said, we're working incredibly hard to make it happen, and there's nothing else I can say about that at the moment.

Bloopers: Are coming soon, but I don't know exactly when!

Deleted scenes: I'm not currently sure whether there will be deleted scene releases.

*

Thank you so much for your support for the show! I look forward to chatting with you about season 3 of Heartstopper!!

[crazeno]

ASKS & REQUESTS CURRENTLY CLOSED :(

But my ask box is still open for casual questions

Hopefully i’ll be able to reopen them soon

I’m bored as all hell, so I’m opening an ask for my newest TFO au, that hopefully i’ll be able to answer and draw for over the holidays!

You can ask me directly if theres any questions you may have, or you can ask the main four! Just specify who you’re talking too.

This is all only for fun and is no way canon to the au.

I wont be answering all of them! But i’ll try to get to as many I have ideas for

MORE INFO ON THE AU

I haven’t done this on tumblr specifically so hopefully i know what I’m doing, I cant be bothered making another blog for it so maybe in the future

[suh-lee]

' explore ' - frontman

𐔌♯ pairing — dom top hwang inho/youngil/player 001 x sub bottom amab!reader

𐔌♯ warnings — smut mdni, CONSENTUAL, inho is mxm virgin, previous and current mentions of manipulation, age gap implied, masculine pronouns and titles for reader, this is not alpha omega but reader is lowk in heat, safe word and kinks are discussed mid-story, inho is referred to as youngil since that is what reader knows him as at this point in the story

𐔌♯ word count — 2,016

𐔌♯ authors note — i need him so bad omg. NOT PROOFREAD !! pls send me squid game recs in my ask box 🫤🫤😖😖

"ya, yn." you heard someone call from behind you, causing you to turn around. you were met with young-il, one of the people whom you had gotten close with during your time locked in this facility.

"hyung!" you exclaimed happily as you saw him alive after the excruciating game of mingle each player had just participated in. he walked in with a serious expression on his face.. you stared at him, trying to get a glimpse into what he was thinking.

now that you think about it, the round where he had to separate from your group, he walked out of a room alone.. that wouldn't have been allowed..? and how did he guess that the final round would be two players per room, no matter if it was slightly logical.

you pushed aside these doubtful feelings toward your hyung and just decided to talk to him after lights out once he watches over our group of players.

"hyung.." you said in a whispered tone as you crawled out from your bunk bed and sat next to him on the stairs.

"yn-ah.. why are you awake? you need rest for the games tomorrow, and your bones are still developing to their full potential. sleep will help with that." young-il said to you quietly, looking at you with a concerned look but having no real emotion behind his eyes, which you took note of.

you darted your eyes away from him for a moment, trying to find how to phrase your words. "could i talk to you..? in private.." you said, tilting your head toward the door that could lead to the bathroom.

young-il quietly nodded and peaked around the large room, filled with countless bunk-beds. he stood up after a moment, walking to the door thay lead to the hallway and knocked on the door.

a guard peaked his head through the window, about to object, but he had seen who was at the door. the guard frantically nodded and opened the door quickly, allowing you and young-il to walk to the bathroom alone.

he held the door open for you, allowing you to walk through and closing it after he entered behind you. he turned a lock on the door and turned toward you, "what did you want?"

"can i ask you a few things?" you spoke softly, receiving a small nod from young-il.

"one.. why do the guards practically ignore you when you do something wrong...? and why didn't i see you in the first game.. or the short time before that..?" you asked, looking at him directly in the eye, attempting to confront him.

he let out a soft smirk at your questions, eyeing you up and down, "you ask too many questions.." he mumbled as he took a step closer toward you, "why all of a sudden are you so cautious??"

"i was there during the first game.. i just tried to blend in the background, using the other players to hide my body.." he said in a confident tone, slowly replanting the seed of trust back into you. "and.. i wouldn't say the guards ignore me.. i just haven't done really anything that they would have to kill, or acknowledge, me for. that's why they turn a blind eye toward me.. i imagine if i did do anything wrong, i would have the same fate as the others.. but, we don't want to test that theory out.. now do we?"

you looked at him as he spoke, he truly had your undivided attention. as he started to explain himself, you were able to understand his reasoning.. but oh my god, something about his confidence mixed with the stereotypically attractive face he had. it drove you insane.

"y..yeah.. that makes sense... sorry if it seemed as if i was doubting you. it's just- you can never be sure here... anybody could be a person in power and we wouldn't know."

"i understand, yn." he said, his usual warm smile on his face, "do you still have your doubts against me?"

"they've been... decreased.. i have no reason to fully trust you, but i also have no reason to believe your lying at the moment. i do hope you're being truthful, though."

"..that's a very smart mindset you have..." he said with a nod, before continuing "especially for an environment like this one. we never know a person's true motives, just as they don't know ours."

you nodded at him, but you weren't really listening. glancing at him up and down, your eyes clearly betrayed you. he started to go on about how trust was a very fragile thing, but you could only comprehend a few words.

he laughed as he noticed the daze you seemed to be in, "are you listening?"

"oh.. sorry!" you spoke quickly.

he listened to your apology with a small smile, looking at you from top to bottom, slowly analyzing everything about your body. his stare coming back up to your face after a long minute of silence.

"you know.. you're kinda cute.." he said after a moment, leaving you stunned as he finished, "and i get an urge that you feel an attraction, of the sort, to me... now, please tell me if i'm wrong."

you stared at him blankly. he read you like a book. you tried to find a way to brush it off, but there was nothing that you could think of. "..i guess you're right." you said in a shy tone.

he looked at you with a small smirk, "well.. im not experienced on homosexual intimacy much.. but i could always. i sense the feeling that you want me in this very moment.. would that be wrong?" he said, leaving you to frantically shake you head, he was right, and you wanted him to know it. he was getting you desperate.

"hmm... well, as far as i know.. we'll be alone in here for a while, most of the other players are probably sleeping at the moment..." he said, diverting his gaze away from you for a moment before looking back at your widened eyes. "shall we start..?"

"uhm.. yes.." you said, looking at him, waiting for him to continue doing something, whether that be an action or more speech.

"what are you into.. and what are you not into.." he said, waiting for you to respond.

you mentioned a list of things, but the few you listed first all seemed to be pain related, and that intrigued youngil. "do you have a safeword..?"

you nodded and said your safeword, receiving a nod from him. "is there anything else men talk about before they have intercourse?" he asked, receiving a small chuckle from you.

"not really... it's basically the same as any intercourse.. just one less hole to find." you joked before asking, "then, are you ready."

"of course.." he said before untying the drawstring on the bottoms of the tracksuit, letting them be loose around the waist. you did the same thing, except everything went off.

the cold breeze went through the air, hitting your unclothed body and giving you shivers.

young-il looked at your nude body for a moment, taking in the sight of your figure, before doing the same.

you looked at his nude body after he managed to get everything off, trying to resist the pleased smile you had been wanting to place on your face. you slowly kneeled down on the mint green tiles, the temperature no longer being an issue. as you stared at his dick, you could almost watch it slowly rise. he was clearly enjoying this as much as you were. you placed your hands on his balls and placed your mouth on the tip, slowly teasing it by moving your mouth down once, and immediately removing your lips.

he glanced down at you, making eye contact. he clearly was not pleased with your teasing. his intimidating glare made you get back to work, bopping your head up and down his cock and having your tongue wiggle down it strategically.

young-il had let a small groan escape from his lips before quickly letting more follow. this reaction had you more than pleased, making your speed increase and letting your hands start to tease his balls.

"can i?" he asked through pants. you nodded, your mouth still on his dick as he let his semen release. the warm licked spilled onto your tongue and coated the back of your throat. you left it in there for a minute before swallowing it. looking back up at him with pleading eyes.

"you're too cute." he mumbled, leaning down to place his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing back and forth. "and so eager.." young-il continued, crouching down to be face to face with you.

young-il grabbed your face in a possibly rough way, his hand on your chin as he held your face close to his. he smirked for a moment before moving his face in, placing his lips on yours. the kiss quickly became heated, the two tongues fighting for dominance as you ran your hands all around his body. the kiss went on for a long while, his arms wrapping around your waist and leaning your body into his.

opening his eyes, young-il took a look at your desperate demeanor. he smiled in the kiss and slowly pulled away, gaining a small whine from you. youngil observed your body once more before carefully lowering you onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. your dick was desperately hard and seeking for any sort of friction, so when he finally rubbed a hand on your dick, you let out a breathy moan. the volume of that moan echoed throughout the bathroom, and it wouldn't be shocking if it reached the hallways too.. but that was honestly the least of your worries. he grabbed your dick and stroked up and down on it. he was damn good at a handjob. it didn't take long for you to go over the edge, long streams of white liquid emerging from your cock and landing into his hand and all over the floor.

young-il smiled at you, helping you turn around on the floor, your torso and face laying on the tiles. he stood up and washed his hands thoroughly before leaning back down and placing his hands on your ass, carefully massaging it before taking a finger and sliding it into your butt, moving it inward and outward at a slow pace, slowly starting to stretch you out. it didn't hurt.. if anything, you could barely feel it.. until he slid the second finger in. he curled one finger and kept the other straight, allowing him to reach more unexplored places in you. this didn't go on for a long while, both of you quickly losing patience.

young-il slid his fingers out of you and quickly aligned his dick with your asshole, rubbing it against a few times before slowly sliding into you. you groaned loudly as you tried to adjust to his size. he smirked as your back went into more of an arch shape. he placed both of his hands on your sides, using it to hold you stable and keep you from slamming into the hard tiles of the floor. the speed of him slowly started to increase as he got closer to his high.

"do you want it in or out..?" he said with a groan.

"..out.." even if you couldn't see it, he nodded and slammed into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his semen coat your back. as he finished, you quickly turned yourself around and wrapped your hand around your cock, stroking yourself to finish your high. the pants that escaped your lips filled the room before a loud moan followed, your semen falling on the floor once more.

you looked at young-il with a defeated smile, the exhaust of your body hitting you. he looked back at you, landing a small kiss on your lips. this was going to be a memory you both will remember for a while.

[historiawon]

WHILE THE IRON IS HOT

You, Rafayel's bodyguard, ask if you can commission him to sketch your next tattoo.

Based on this post. Can also be found on AO3 :)

Tags: gender neutral reader, getting closer (professionally as well as casually), reader is NOT an artist, rafayel is NOT a numbers guy, bickering, close proximity, lots of eye contact

Kindly read under the cut!

They say, ‘Strike when the iron is hot.’

The mantra repeats excessively in your mind as you watch over Rafayel, the person who employed you as his bodyguard. Because the current chances of Wanderers attacking the Mo Art Studio is low (never zero), you give your mind permission to wander. A little. Just a little.

Your mind wanders as far as a few weeks ago: the request at the tip of your tongue. That will later be inked to your skin.

As they say, ‘Strike while the iron is hot.’ You’re standing a few feet away from a brilliant artist. This is your chance.

You cough. “Excuse me.”  

“I have a name,” Rafayel says, as he brushes past you to rummage through his box of tools. He takes out a scraper.

“Right. Rafayel?”  

“What’s up?” He returns to his stool.

“I have a question, and please indulge me: what do you think about doing commissions?”

“Commissions?” Rafayel repeats, as he scrapes the dried pigment off the canvas. “Like, other people paying me to paint for them?”

“Yes.” 

Rafayel raises an eyebrow at you for a split-second before returning his attention back on the painting. He calculates a precise location before scraping again. “In your dreams. I don’t paint for anyone. I don’t even speed up my painting process for Thomas, even if he asked.”

“Even if it will earn you extra income?”

“And extra work! I already work hard enough to finish original pieces as they are.”

You nod and remember the instances of him submitting a painting late. “True. I suppose that your original works already earn enough to support you. . . and Thomas, ‘cause you pay him,” and me, as your bodyguard, you add as an afterthought. Wait, does he even pay me?

(You make a mental note to clarify that later; you have a more pressing concern right now.)

Slowly, Rafayel puts down his scraper and turns towards you. “You want me to paint something for you, is that it?”

“Hm.” You try to be vague. “No, I was just curious.”

“No, you’re not ‘just curious.’ There’s a follow-up question to it; I know.”

Silence hangs in the air as the two of you exchange a prolonged and loaded eye contact. Your breath hitches at the full attention. His pupils glance at your throat before looking back at your eyes.

Y/N, I know, his gaze seems to say.

Your steady look asks: You know?

With a nod, Rafayel’s expectant gaze answers, Try me.

We’re going off topic, Rafayel.  

“Ha! You blinked first!” He exclaims in victory then raises a hand as if to stop you from opening your mouth. “Yes, Y/N, I know a staring contest wasn’t what we were doing. But I know you have a follow-up question.”

“I do, but I was planning to take this slow. I know we have…” you gesture to the space between the two of you, “professional boundaries. I’m not in the position to ask for commission requests yet. It’s not even open.”

“So considerate,” Rafayel teases, but his gaze on you softens. “That’s cute.”

“Still, right?”

His ears flush pink, like he can’t believe what just happened. In a snap, he changes back to his usual self and touches his ear. “Just shoot your shot. Time will pass whether you ask me now or later.”

“My follow-up question was about if I can avail your services for an art commission. You can just draw; no colors. I’ll pay. What’s your price?”

“Assuring me straight up that you’ll pay? I like that in a customer!”

“We’re going off topic, Rafayel.”  

“Hey! What’s with the accusatory tone?” He says as he rubs his ears. The pink turns to red. “You’re no different. You went on a roundabout way just to ask me for a piece! You can just say,” he straightens his posture—highly reminiscent of your current posture that was earned from your job as a hunter—and imitates your tone, “‘Hey, Raf, can you make this for me? I’ll pay!’ Simple. Done.”

You break character and scoff. He chuckles at your reaction.

“Yes, but that was more of an opening rather than ‘off-topic.’ I’d rather know if you accept commissions or not before I ask you.”

“Why?”

“It’s polite.”

You bite back a grin when he makes a face. He apparently notices the way you hold back a smile—he glances at your mouth once and his ears turn red. Again. Redder than that dried pigment he’s been scraping off. “Whatever. I can be polite.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t.”

“It was implied,” he whined.

You adjust your expression back to a more neutral and respectful one to stay on track of the topic.

“So, how much will a sketch cost?”

“Hmm,” he looks at the ceiling and puts a finger under his jaw, which stains his skin with color. He seems too used to it to bother reacting. “Given that I’ve earned my spot in the industry, it would be, I don’t know. . . a lot?”

“Right. Do you have an exact amount?”

“Oh, cutie, I gotta be honest with you…” Eyes on the canvas, Rafayel scrunches his face with some hard-to-decipher smile. He picks up his scraper and scrapes off a small piece of dried pigment in the corner of the piece. A huge chunk of dried powder falls out. Yikes. “I don’t really know much about the numbers aspect. Will you bother Thomas with a hypothetical question? Don’t tell him I’m considering to give you a commission! I don’t wanna deal with his lectures.”

You make a mental note.

“Sure. I will do that. Do you want me to pay you directly? Since I imagine the price will be a lot, I can pay you in installments, if you accept.”

“Wow,” he drawls, tone impressed, “You thought this through.”

“Mm. I’m serious about this.”

Rafayel’s adam’s apple moves as he fixes his gaze at the canvas with intensity. “I’ll decide depending on the drawing. What do you want me to sketch?”

You imagine your budget, yet again. “Depends on the price.”

“Y/N,” he drawls. “We’re going in circles! Off-topic!”

“I was hoping you would sketch a tattoo for me.”

At that, Rafayel whips his head towards you so fast. The crack of his neck is loud enough for you to feel bad.

“What?” He asks, voice hoarse.

“Is your neck OK—”

“For—forget my neck. Off-topic,” he repeats, with his eyes almost teary on you. “Repeat what you said.”

“A tattoo. Just a small one. Under my ear.” At his stunned silence, you continue, “Well, it’s not every day that I can talk to a talented artist. I’m taking my chances and I’ll pay you, I promise. If I’m unable to pay it in full, then you can take money off my sala—”

“You—you want me to draw a tattoo?”

“Yes. For me.”

“I’ll draw it? Are you sure?” he almost chokes on his words.

“Yes, it would be an honor.”

“’An honor’—oh my god. No, it would be an honor to me. Not to you, to me.” Rafayel fans himself with his collar. “Wha—what—what kind of tattoo?”

“I was thinking of a sunset.” You feel a little unprepared at Rafayel’s reaction. His eyes are wide and mouth agape. No amount of spotlight could top the nerve-wracking feeling of someone’s full attention on you. “Like… I don’t know how that would look good, but… preferably, uh, you know those sketches that are made in a continuous line? Like that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeat. “Does that look good? Any professional, artistic opinion?”

“Whatever you want,” his voice cracks again. You wince. “It’s a tattoo, silly. It’s supposed to be personal.”

“The mere subject is personal. I don’t mind much about the artistic style it takes to get inked on me, as long as it fits the way I look.”

“On your neck, huh…” he mutters. “I’ll help. Let’s make it perfect.”

A pause. Rafayel stands up from his stool and tears off a piece of paper from a sketchbook. “Uh, you might want to sketch what was in your mind. Then I will modify it, if you’re unsatisfied with what you made.”

“I just said I don’t mind ab—”

“A tattoo is personal. You should draw and I’ll check.”

You wave your hands away from the paper. “Ah, no! I already tried. I’m bad at drawing. That is why I need your help.”

Rafayel avoids your gaze and leaves the paper on the stool. “OK, um, I’ll be back. Let me wash my hands first—”

“You don’t have to do it now—” you say, but the man is already brushing past you to wash his pigment-stained hands (and face). He belatedly locks the bathroom door behind him, and you can hear muffled screams from where you are standing.

What’s up with him? You wonder. Is this what happens when you strike a hot iron? You didn’t think you would go this far.

_

Rafayel returns as if you didn’t hear his muffled screaming. “Who’s gonna do your tattoo?”

“I found a tattoo shop at Linkon city. They said we’re allowed to bring designs of our own.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and crosses his arms. “And you think they can imitate my genius?”

“I hope they can,” you indulge him a compliment. His ears flush pink—you can see it with the short distance between the two of you.

“How much is it?” You ask again. “Hey, does asking for your opinion have a price?”

“Geez. Why do you keep asking me about money and prices? I literally said I’m not a numbers guy. Don’t go back to the circle, Y/N.” He widens his eyes at you.

“I don’t know; you might be similar to a legal counselor. Don’t they charge clients per session?”

“We’re going off-topic, Y/N,” he says in exasperation. “I don’t know about other artists, but I’m not charging you for asking. Actually, you know what? Pay me with a favor instead. Don’t ask Thomas about a price! You’re commissioning me with a favor!”

The mental note in your head falls down like a ripped-out post-it. “Oh, OK! Thanks?”

“And no, my opinion is for free. You might never ask me for it again if I said it costs something.”

You shrug. “Possibly.”

“So let’s—” Rafayel looks around the room. “Sit down. Your legs must ache from standing all afternoon.”

You sit down on the couch he gestures to. It’s a little relieving on the leg area. Meanwhile, Rafayel tugs his collar with a nervous swallow as he sits next to you. In his hands are two pencils and an eraser shaped like an octopus.

“So, sunset?” He asks awkwardly.

You look at his eyes and smile. “Yes. Sunset.”

“OK. Sunset.”

“Uh-huh. Sunset. Should I get the paper you ripped earlier? And the sketchbook so it can be on top of something?” You say with hands already outstretched.

“So chivalrous,” he teases, but the frown on his face makes the teasing come off as awkward. You playfully scoff to avoid embarrassing him. “Yes. Please start.”

With the paper and sketchbook on your lap, you draw the first line.

The second. The third.

Then regret it.

“Yikes.”

“Hm?”

When you look at Rafayel, he no longer looks flustered. Replacing his awkward eyes is an intense, focused gaze. You instinctively cover the “drawing” with your palm, but Rafayel’s warm fingers pulls it back.

“This will be my tattoo.” You try to avoid feeling awkward.

He studies the drawing for a few beats. Then intently at your neck.

“Press your ear like this. I want to see the space where this will go.”

Awkwardly, you turn your head and press your ear forward to fold it.

“Is it this ear?”

“Yes.”

“Portrait?”

“Yes, portrait. I want it to be visible.”

You hold the pose for a few more seconds. Rafayel’s silence is making you feel more and more flustered. He exhales, mind in mid-thought.

“What do you think? As an artist?”

“I won’t answer that,” he says earnestly, “but do you want me to change it?”

“Please,” you whisper. “I mean, that’s what the entire conversation earlier was about, anyway. A talented artist to draw my tattoo. Hopefully.”

“I’ll make a few suggestions.”

Rafayel does not take the paper on the sketchbook away from your lap. Instead, he uses the second pencil and draws on it.

This is weird.

The warmness that radiates from him—from his close proximity with you—feels quite comforting. You suddenly remember the mattress of the bed when you used to live with Grandma. It just… it felt nice. You feel your upper body lose its tension.

Plus, you can see the violet strands of his hair up close. It’s a pretty color. Maybe violet will be your favorite color, from now on.

“Here, check this out—”

You snap out of your thoughts, but you do not make it obvious.

Rafayel created two sample tattoos, following at least two of the three lines you drew. It seems like the base for his modification drawings.

“What do you think?”

Your heart starts thumping in your chest like a lion in its cage. There’s a… there’s a rush of excitement in your stomach and in your throat. This is pretty. This is genius. Rafayel is able to turn something amateur into something great and you can’t help but be amazed. “That’s infinitely better, wow!”

“Are you sure? We can do better than that. I mean, this one’s stroke is out of line…”

“Sure, but these are pretty as they are! I must owe you a huge favor for this ‘commission,’ right?”

Something changes in Rafayel’s eyes. He looks a little sheepish. “Actually.”

“Yes?”

“I know what favor to ask of you now.”

“Tell me. Strike while the iron’s hot,” strike while we’re on the topic!

“How open are you to having me as your tattoo artist?”

[monzabee]

bad idea right? – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?

Pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of breakups and also fighting, cursing, kind of a toxic relationship?, allusion to smut, it's criminal how long it took me to finish this fic

Request: this wasn’t requested, but the idea is veeery loosely from this tiktok right here! (i might def write the scenario in the tiktok in the future though)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it has officially been a month since i started my master's programme and i have to say it is absolutely kicking my ass, but thank you all for bearing with me while i adjust! this song has been stuck in my head for the last two-three (?) months and i really wanted to write a fic based on it. i also wanted to say that i've received all of your guys' requests, and i'm working on those, but it's harder for me to get out a request than a fic that just popped in my head because i tend to be more of a perfectionist with those - so, those are definitely on the way, don't worry! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It’s not that you don’t like spending time with your brother and his girlfriend – because you do, but considering the fact that spending a mere hour with them causes you to suddenly question your life choices (of being single), you are very eager to leave them alone for the night. Which brings us to the current situation, with you standing in front of your brother’s apartment complex in one of the hoodies you stole from the sample boxes, waiting for someone you should’ve never hit up in the first place. It was probably not your brightest idea to message Lando to ask him if he wants to go for a ride, especially because a) the last time you saw him a year ago the two of you were yelling and throwing things at each other and b) you’re definitely buzzed from the bottle of wine you hogged upstairs. But you know what they say; absence makes the heart go fonder, right?

So there you are with your phone in your hand, texting Lily in hopes of getting the tiniest bit of reassurance about your decision.

To lily m: i texted lando To lily m: he’s gonna pick me up From lily m: WHAT? NO To lily m: seeing him tonight To lily m: it’s a bad idea, right? From lily m: YES From lily m: DO NOT GET INTO THAT CAR To lily m: yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?

Fuck it, it’s fine, you decide as you quickly delete the last two messages. With a soft sigh, you wrap your arms around yourself to shield yourself from the cold air of the night. And while you could just wait for Lando inside the apartment building, you really don’t want to attract more attention to yourself. You can feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass by, and you even contemplate cancelling the whole thing and going upstairs to sleep. Just as you’re about to give up on the whole thing, a car honk grabs your attention. When turn to look at the source of the sound, you see Lando’s unamused face through the open window.

He motions you to get in with his head, his voice as equally detached as he calls out, “Get in.”

Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you do as your told. But you tell yourself that it’s not because he told you to, but because you’re cold. And so you get in the car making sure you slam the door as hard as you can, which makes him scowl as a small smile forms on your lips. “You know, you could really try on being more polite.”

“I’m picking you up in the middle of the night,” he points out as he puts the car on drive and starts driving off, “and put your damn seatbelt on.”

You give him a sideway glance as you put on your seatbelt, letting out a sigh, “Are you okay? I’m sensing some serious undertone.”  

Lando doesn’t answer you, mainly because he is smarter than he looks and he knows you’re trying to goad him into another fight. That’s what the two of you had always done, not that he hated you or vice versa, but the two of you mainly got along in fights which ended up in both of you twisted between the sheets of the whatever hotel you were currently staying in. And it had worked for a while, until of course it didn’t, and Lando was mature enough to admit that he had a huge role in fucking up your relationship.

“You changed your car,” you point out.

“Thought you’d appreciate a roof over your head this time,” he replies.

The car is silent as Lando drives down the now empty streets of Monte Carlo, and you find yourself involuntarily checking out his side profile because well, he always looked so good while driving. You suppose it’s only one of the things that didn’t change with time.

“So,” his voice draws you out from your thoughts, “why’d you call me tonight? Are you drunk?”

“I am not drunk,” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, “if you don’t feel like being here Lando, I can just get off and go home.”

“Now I didn’t say that, I simply asked a question.” He steals another glance at you, but this time a little smirk forms on his lips when your eyes meet and he sees your scowl. “It was a harmless question, really.”

Your voice comes off as clipped as you answer, “I’m not drunk.”

“Your cheeks are red,” Lando points out but the playfulness from mere seconds ago is gone, in fact, he’s more serious than you’ve probably ever seen him, “you either had wine or your rosacea is acting up.”

It takes a moment for you to take in his words, and there is no humour in his voice or on his face when you look at him to see whether he’s joking or not. “I had some wine,” you confess, voice much lower than before as you add, “but I’m not drunk.” One of his eyebrows rise up, and you find yourself mumbling, “Fine maybe a little bit, but not a lot.”

His jaw ticks as he mumbles, “Okay, whatever you say.” And as you try to assess whether his voice is cold or not, you see his hands tightening around the steering wheel.

“What?” You ask, a bit quicker than necessary (in your opinion), “What did I say?”

Now it’s his turn for his voice to be clipped, and his eyebrows furrow as he asks, “Did you only call me because you’re drunk?”

“No,” your reply is truthful to some extent, you suppose, you would’ve texted him even if you had no alcohol in your system. “I wanted to see you.”

He lets out a hum, “Why?”

It’s a hard question, and you contemplate not being a hundred percent honest – but deep down you know he deserves better, even if you had your differences. So, to reveal the truth, you turn your face away from him to look outside the window, “I missed you.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t turn to see what his reaction will be. Everything is peaceful for a moment.

He takes you to a hill, the very one he took you for your first date. Though, it doesn’t carry the same excitement this time around. The two of you remain in the car with the windows rolled down, but the colder air doesn’t make you chilly. It’s silent, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Neither of you make the first move to start a conversation, and you don’t know if that’s because you’re both obstinate or he doesn’t want to be there. Though, you suspect he would’ve told you ‘no’ if he didn’t want to be there – not that he could ever tell you ‘no’.

It's unnaturally hard, you realise, not looking at him on purpose when he’s seated so close to you. Especially because you haven’t seen him in months. Not that you’d confess that to him, or let yourself have another weak moment where you say you missed him. Because you can’t. Because it’s not the way the two of you operate. Because he broke your heart but you’re not strong enough to let him go. With that last thought, you take a sharp breath, undo your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean against the hood of the car and he soon follows suit. But where your hands are splayed behind your back, his arms are crossed over his chest.

“You’ve not been sleeping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Because he is not dumb (or blind enough) to let the circles under your eyes slide.

And it’s a statement that might be true. You only give him half of a shrug, “So?”

“It means that something is bothering you.” You’re about to object, but he quickly shuts you down, “I once drove you around for four hours so you could sleep in my car, honey,” his fingers move to gently turn your chin towards him so he can look into your eyes, “and that was because you forgot to bring me back junk food from Australia.”

Even if you’re taken aback by his physical touch, you don’t show it as you stubbornly maintain your eye contact. “It’s the jet lag, I haven’t travelled in a while.” You gulp down a breath as you gently push his hand away, “And don’t call me that.”

“Why?” He turns his body to face you, “You’re just as sweet, aren’t you?”

“Lando,” you warn him, “don’t.”

He raises a brow, “Why not?”

“Because we’re friends,” your response comes off in an instant, “I only see you as a friend.” The biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“Friends,” he repeats, tests out the word, then shrugs, “sure. Now tell me what happened tonight that made you call me. Did you and Daniel fight?”

“What?” an involuntary laugh leaves your lips, and you catch the corner of his lips turning upwards just the smallest bit. “No, we didn’t, it’s not about Daniel. Can we just not talk about it, please?”

He gives you a firm nod, and you catch his grimace as he turns his attention back to the view in front of you. “You can tell me, you know,” he mumbles, “you used to.”

He’s right, you realise. You used to tell him all the little thought that popped into your head, whether it was nice or not, and he’d accommodated your thoughts. It was easier to talk to him, once upon a time, and you’re not really sure why it hurts so much right now that you can’t.

“Why do you care?” The question comes out quickly, and your voice is not as strong as you’d like it to be. “After everything, why do you care?”

“We’re friends, right?” The words tastes unbelievably sour in his mouth, and he has to restrain himself from making any sort of face, but it seems harder than it actually is for him to do and he questions whether it is worth it to

“Friends,” this time it’s your turn to test out the word, and it tastes as bitter as they come, “sure, can we ride around a bit more?”

“Fine,” he gives you a nod and motions you to get in the car, “but I have to get gas first.”

The fluorescent lighting of the gas station is definitely not the most flattering thing. So much so that you’re sure the unflattering light outside is exaggerating the bags under your eyes. But that situation of course doesn’t apply to Lando because even under the harsh lighting, he looks too pretty. And compared to earlier in the night, you don’t try to hide the way your eyes focus on him while he’s driving, though you hope you do a much better job at hiding the thoughts that come to your mind. Even after he’s parked the car in the nearest pump, you find yourself staring at his side profile a bit too long, which earns you a sideway smirk and you try your hardest not to react, but the smile you keep trying to fight is too strong and eventually you find yourself with the tiniest smile playing on your lips.

Lando turns towards you, meets your eyes and leans over the console, “Do you want anything from the shop?”

You blink once, trying to come up with anything, twice, then “Can you get me those gummy bears that I like?”

He gives you another nod, reaches into his pocket and then hand you his phone. Ignoring your questioning stare, he explains, “So that you can play music or something, the password is still the same.” Before he gets out of the car, he does the unexpected and leans in just a little bit more to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.

You watch him get out of the car and walk away from you with your mouth slightly hanging open. You contemplate trying to unlock the phone, because why would he tell you that his password is the same? And why would he trust you with his phone when the two of you have been broken up for over a year? With shaky hands, your fingers put in the password, calling Lando’s bluff. Oh shit, you think when the phone unlocks, now what? Throwing the phone out of your hands onto the driver seat, you grab your own and quickly type a new message to Kika, who of course got the news from Lily and has been blowing up your phone, while ignoring her dozen other messages who went unread in your text thread.

To kika: this was a bad idea kika Tokika: a very *very* bad idea From kika: please tell me you’re going home To kika: um… To kika: sure From kika: GET OUT OF THAT CAR AND GET YOUR ASS HOME From kika: NOW!!

Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes linger on the messages spamming your phone, and you contemplate just getting out of the car and trying to find your way back home. But you also can’t help yourself but think… what’s the worst that could happen if you stayed? Clicking the button on the side of your phone, you place it face down on your lap after making sure you silence it for the rest of the night. With the reminder of the abandoned phone on the seat next to yours, you open your window to let some of the night air in. As your phone keeps buzzing on your lap, your eyes focus on the figure that comes out of the convenience store – and by some grace of God, he doesn’t realise the way your eyes basically undress him as he approaches his McLaren.

There’s no smile on his face, in fact, if you didn’t know Lando, you’d say he looks like an asshole; not that he occasionally doesn’t act like one. He gives you that boyish smirk when he’s next to your window, signalling you to roll it down by tapping on it twice. Lando leans against the car, his eyes locked onto yours. “Got your gummy bears,” he says, holding up the package and handing it to you once you roll it down. “It was the last one too, you’re lucky.”

Giving a tight lipped smile to the man looking expectantly at you, you accept the packet of gummy bears. “Thank you, Lando,” the softening look in his eyes is, ironically, strong enough for you to choke on the next words that are on the tip of your tongue. “I–”

“I’m sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?” A third voice interrupts you, and you find yourself moving your gaze from Lando to the woman who’s excitedly waiting for a response.

“Yes,” he breathes out, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice polite but he’s also very annoyed at the same time – though the way he eyes up the stranger definitely makes your blood boil.

With his attention on the woman, you find yourself feel the tension in the air and quickly look down at the packet of gummy bears in your hands. You start absentmindedly picking at the wrapper, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. As the conversation between Lando and the fan continues, you steal glances at them from the corner of your eye. She's gushing about a recent race, talking animatedly about the thrilling moments she witnessed. Lando, for his part, is gracious and engaged, taking the time to listen and respond. And despite the polite exchange, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It's a reminder of the world he's a part of, a world where fans approach him with admiration and excitement. A world you used to share, but now only observe from the sidelines.

You watch the woman place her hand on Lando’s bicep, laughing at a (rather mediocre) joke he made about the understeer of the car. It’s not a funny joke by any means, and you are not scared to admit that the woman’s laugh that fills your ears makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You remind yourself that you're here by choice. You could have left at any moment. But there's something about this night, about being with Lando again, that you can't quite let go of. It's a confusing mix of nostalgia and longing, wrapped in a blanket of uncertainty.

The woman’s voice hits your ears as you hear her ask, “Do you want to come back to my place?”

Without letting them both know that you’re actively listening into their conversation, you attempt to subtly let out a warning cough, but Lando covertly smirks as he leans towards the car with his hand grabbing the lowered window – without caring about the possible finger prints he might leave behind, might you add. Without any hesitation, you let your fingers go of the packaging to thread your fingers with his.

While his thumb gently starts to draw circles on the knuckle of your thumb, he does his best to supress the chuckle building up in his throat. “That’s, um, very kind – but I’m with my girl, you see, and we are both pretty tired.”

Maybe you would’ve given her a friendly smile over a misunderstanding if you were in a better mood, but as the woman looks at you with wild eyes, all you can offer her is an annoyed pout, and soon after she leaves after apologising to you both for interrupting your plans. You watch her leave until there is a good enough distance for her to not hear you, and then turn to Lando and give him a glare as you hiss, “I am not ‘your girl’.”

He finally lets out the chuckle he’s been holding as he watches you letting go of his hand with an exaggerated push, and then diverts his amused eyes towards you, “Sure, whatever you say, jealous girl.”

“I am not– I wasn’t jealous!” you exclaim, eyes narrowed. When he starts walking towards the driver’s side, you can’t help but call out, “I’m not jealous!”

Lando is still chuckling to himself when he gets in the car, and even as he starts driving, completely ignoring your whining complaints. “That’s alright, honey,” he says, voice full of condescension, “it was very cute.”

“You are an ass.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms across your chest. “Maybe I should’ve gotten off when I had the chance, that way you could’ve fucked her in the back seat.”

“Bold of you assume she’s the one I’d want to fuck in my back seat,” he raises an eyebrow, then shrugs “but sure.”

Your face scrunches up in disgust, “You’re, ugh, you’re just the worst, Lando.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you add, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you over you fucking girls in your car.”

Lando manages to get out a disapproving tut, and then contends, “I never said I’d fuck girls in my car, I’d said I’d rather fuck you in my car.”

Completely baffled by this revelation, not that you should’ve been, you turn to him in disgust, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs again, noncommittally, and without paying you any mind continues to focus on the road.

“Well,” you laugh, breathlessly, “good thing that’s never happening.” Gently clearing your throat, you later can’t help yourself but add a silent, “Again.”

“If you’d rather a bed, that could also be arranged, honey.” Lando assures you, and you realise the little fucker has a smirk growing on his face.

“As if I’d sleep with you willingly,” you scoff.

A boisterous laugh is what you get from Lando, who tilts his head towards you, “Come on, I’m a good-looking bloke.”

“And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter man,” you sing, but you just can’t remember when. So deciding to block out what Lando is rambling about, you pull out your phone to message someone who has the answer for you.

To lily m + kika: can you tell me someone who is hotter than lando? From lily m: alex From kika: pierre To lily m + kika: ew, be serious please From kika: what about the guy with the accent, from hungary? From lily m: the doctor? To lily m + kika: i think she meant the reporter From lily m: god no he was a creep From lily m: what about the surfer? From kika: oh yeah he was cute too To lily m + kika: i need someone hot, pleaseee From lily m: THE MODEL FROM MILAN From kika: WITH THE ABS From kika: and also porche From lily m: BUT ALSO THE ABS To lily m + kika: okay thanks To lily m + kika: love you guys

Getting lost in the conversation, with the aid of your ambition to prove yourself right and, naturally, Lando wrong, you don’t realise that he’s actually driven you back to his apartment instead of a bar or literally some other place that sells alcohol in that ungodly hour.

“This isn’t a bar.” You point out, eyebrows furrowed.

Lando dignifies your comment with a scoff, “Well aren’t you quite the detective?”

Crossing your arms across your chest, you basically hiss at him this time, “This is basically kidnapping.”

Lando glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Kidnapping? Really? I thought we were just catching up.”

You shoot him a sarcastic look, but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, sure. Catching up in the middle of the night at your place.”

He parks the car and turns to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Well, here’s my proposal. I’ll go to my apartment and you’re free to either join me or drive my car back to Daniel’s – I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering your options as you watch Lando give you an assuring smile and handing you the keys before getting out of the car. Going back to your brother's place doesn't sound all that appealing, and Lando's offer, as questionable and a bad idea as it may be, seems like the lesser of two evils. Though, there is also the reality that if when you go up to his apartment, you’re probably going to do something that either you or your friends will regret tomorrow morning. Watching Lando’s retreating figure move further into the apartment building, you think, fuck it, it’s fine.

So, you wait for a few minutes, anxiously twirling the car keys in your hand to make him wait – but you’re pretty sure it makes you suffer just as much. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then climb out of the car. Locking it behind you, you follow Lando into the building. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you as you step into the elevator, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. The elevator ride going up to the second floor is pure torture, and it leaves you squirming in your place the whole time. Basically throwing yourself out of the elevator once it lands on the second floor, you realise that Lando has been waiting for you, standing and smiling at his door.

He gives you a teasing look as you approach, clearly amused by your slightly dishevelled state. “Took you long enough,” he remarks, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. But instead of saying anything or retorting back, you quietly follow him inside his apartment. Lando closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. The first thing that catches your eye is the helmet collection he keeps in the living room. Without saying anything, you quickly make your way over to the shelves that display the helmets, trying your best to avoid his approaching footsteps behind you. The familiar design of a particular helmet has you instinctively tracing the number at the top, and the arms that hug your waist from behind makes you freeze for a moment. Lando's touch is both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions you thought were long buried.

“That's from Monza, 2021,” he says, his voice close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.

You clear your throat, attempting to regain composure. “I remember,” you reply, your fingers still lingering on the helmet.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present hangs in the air. Lando breaks the silence, his voice low and measured. “I wasn't sure you'd actually come up.”

You turn to face him, meeting his gaze, but don’t attempt getting out of his arms. “I didn't think so either.”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours. It's a tentative touch, a testing of waters, and you find yourself responding to the familiarity of the kiss. The taste of the past lingers, and for a moment, it's as if the years haven't passed. But reality crashes back in, and you pull away, the distance now a necessary boundary. Lando looks at you, a mix of emotions playing on his face. There's longing, regret, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that bind you.

“I thought we could just catch up,” he says, his tone a mix of apology and yearning.

You turn in your place, facing him. “Catching up was never our strong suit, was it?”

“Not really,” Lando shakes his head, “no.”

You bite down on the corner of your lip, threading your fingers through his curls as you pull his face down to meet yours as you rise on your tiptoes, “It’s a bad idea, right?”

Lando lets out a supportive hum as he lets his lips softly brush against yours, “The worst.” And maybe he should have been the gentleman and pull away, but when he sees your eyes closing, he just leans in further to press his lips against yours – and the way you respond to his kiss? It's as if the world outside ceases to exist. The kiss deepens, each brush of his lips against yours reigniting a long-buried flame. Lando's hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, erasing the physical space between you.

You don’t complain as he pulls you towards his bedroom, or when he gently throws you on his bed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As he hovers over you, the weight of the past and the intensity of the present converge. His hands trace the contours of your face, memorizing every curve as if committing it to memory. And when the two of you get lost between each other within his sheets, the only thing that ends up coming from your mouth is either his name, or some sort of encouragement to keep him going. After he manages to wear you out, Lando decides that you’re definitely not going anywhere as he wraps you in his arms around you. The room is filled with the soft sounds of breaths syncing, hearts beating in tandem. Lando's fingers draw absent patterns on your skin while you check the messages that have accumulated in your phone. The glow of your phone illuminates the dim room, creating a subtle contrast to the warmth that envelops you. Lando's presence beside you adds an extra layer of comfort, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy that unfolded moments ago.

From danny: please tell me you didn’t get kidnapped by the organ mafia From danny: wink twice if you’re alive From danny: this is not funny, where are you? From danny: fine i’ll ask alex to ask lily

Rolling  your eyes before sending him a text to let your brother know you’re okay, you decide to turn your attention to the group chat with Lily and Kika.

From kika: did you get home safe? From lily m: daniel is pretty stressed about it From lily m: please for the love of god tell us you’re home and not with lando right now To lily m + kika: omg just calm down i’m in bed To lily m + kika: and i’m going to sleep To lily m + kika: love you guys

You catch a glimpse of Lando’s grin over your shoulder as you click your phone off, but he only chuckles as he buries his face into your neck as he leaves small kisses to the skin there. “Well, I’m not lying, I just didn’t specify where I was.”

“Or in whose sheets,” his laugher gets louder as you jokingly slap him on the arm, “go to sleep, honey, we’ll be tired in the morning.”

And it might’ve been a bad idea to message him in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one.

[dpspcehntr]

Hello 🤗 I have a question that has crossed my mind from time to time and I would like your (and maybe your followers) opinion on this, if you don't mind.

Thinking realistically, rather than with a romantic notion, do you think the LaDs men have had much, if any, sexual experience that hasn't been with MC?

Would God of the Tides have concubines brought to him, or gone on dates as a land lubber? Or do you think his bond with MC would prevent him from 'engaging' with anyone else?

Did Xavier date anyone before MC joined the guardians (I don't know the name I forget lol)?

I don't know anything about Sylus

Would Zayne have had a prom date or a girlfriend before he met with the current timeline MC? I know he says we are his only experience, but does that include just kissing someone?

I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!! One, I have also been rotating this around in my brain for quite some time and how I feel very lightly colors how I write for them! I haven't read much (if any at all) of the myths so I will just be looking at the present. I love thinking about this cause tbh sometimes the characterizations in game are not as full as I would like. I won’t keep this long but if you want more detail I’m happy to add to this post! Anyway! Here are my thoughts!

Rafayel is literally the reason I had this thought in the first place. I thought it was so silly to think that he as a rich artsy boy had never ONCE hooked up with someone. He absolutely is a FUCKBOY! I will hear nothing else about it. I can't image he's not when so much of his overall characterization just oozes that kind of energy for me. My exception to this is that I don't think he enjoyed himself very much. Used sex kind of like a numbing thing cause he felt the void of your absence hard. He's not like a community dick kind of fuckboy but he has definitely been passed around a few times, if not as a professional then in art school.

Xavier is another one who I feel has some experience before (re)meeting MC. His experience is alot more clumsy and unsure compared to Rafayel. More of a situation like 'I want to be ready when I find her so I'm going to try it with someone else to be good at it. There may only be one person he's had sex with before MC and it was so bad she just had to leave. When that failed he just turned to erotica and p*rn to fill in the gaps. Eventually getting used to using his own imagination and getting off when needed. So when the time comes he's very prepared and VERY horny.

Sylus is a bit of a hard one because yes absolutely he is having sex with people before meeting MC. His overall vibe very much eludes to the fact that he has lived a life and I'm sure that is included. I don't think he's slinging it out to anyone who asks but he has been in some kind of relationship before. If anything we can say he is very comfortable having sex and has had sex before meeting MC. I have some more thoughts on this but I will keep it there for now!

Zayne from what I know has said that he isn't experienced and we are his first and I believe that. He very much gives full focus on the task at hand kind of man. Definitely not in high school but in med school I image him having a non serious fling with someone just to say he tried. They broke up soon after and he just never tried again until he and MC reconnected. That being said, he is a bit of a perv and has ALOT of pent up energy so once they start they literally don't stop. Like a weekend stuck in an endless loop of sleep, eat, fuck until he's at work desperate for you once again. The problem for him is learning how to control himself now that has MC.

My ask box is open for further conversations on this cause I genuinely love talking about this! Lets keep the conversation going!

[leqonsluv3r]

good girl

re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader

— a oneshot

warnings: MDNI, 18+, inappropriate use of handcuffs, unprotected sex, use of nicknames (babygirl, baby, etc), praise, porn with literally no plot, mentions of raccoon city & leon being a lil rookie, reader has hair that can be tugged on but no other physical appearance mentioned, use of female pronouns (she/her), established relationship.

“she smirks at the handcuffs, “never been arrested before…” she says with a small chuckle as she swings the handcuffs around her finger, looking up at him. “not those kinds of handcuffs, babygirl.” he says with a small grin, looking over her face as her smirk stalls a little bit. letting herself realize what he really meant, her mouth becoming dry. she was deep in it now.”

—or reader finds leon’s handcuffs and he shows her what he uses them for

when she met leon, it was hard for her to believe that he even looked her direction. not because she wasn’t his type, he loved any kind of woman, no matter how she looked.

she was just not use to someone who looked the way he did to talk to her, or even ask for her phone number. it was bizarre in her eyes, like hell had frozen over in the best way possible.

she knew he was different from other guys right from the get go, he opened the car door for her and payed for her meals. he held respect for her in the way that most men hadn’t.

and it made her like him much more then she anticipated.

they continued to go on dates, hang out at each others places and then eventually they had sex.

she had never had a guy…who felt and gave like leon did. he would gladly go down on her, no questions asked. he ate her out like she was a meal, making her back arch and her hands fist at his hair.

no man had ever made her feel like that before.

he shared everything with her, what he did before and why he was here in the city. he even shared some of his embarrassing stories from when he was a kid. they talked about everything.

and as time grew on and they became more serious, leon asked her if she wanted to move in together. get a place and be in one spot, which made her happy, but she had never lived with a man that wasn’t family before and it did make her a bit nervous at first.

leon reassured her that everything would be fine though, he knew how nervous she was. he could read her like a book after all the months they had been together.

and she said yes, which led to her packing all of her one bedroom apartment into boxes. stuffing clothes into garbage bags and dismantling furniture. she was stressed but it was definitely worth it at the end of the day.

this led her to now, currently moving all her boxes into their new place together. she was sweaty, exhausted and stressed but she had the biggest smile on her face and nothing could take that away.

she was finally in her own place with leon, nothing could be better.

“settling in? i just moved all my shit in two days ago, haven’t unpacked a single thing.” he says with a wipe of his forehead with his bicep as he walks into their practically empty kitchen.

she chuckled, “yeah, all my stuff is scattered around. i have to go pick up the furniture that i’m keeping tomorrow. didn’t have enough energy to get to it today.” she says as she sips on her plastic water bottle that she brought with her, moving some hair out of her eyes.

he smiles at her and comes over, wrapping his arms around her waist. “it’s all worth it though right?” she hears him mumble into her ear, pressing a small kiss on the shell of it. she bites her lip, trying to fight back a stupid lovesick grin, “yeah, definitely.” she says softly as she looks over her shoulder and up at him.

he was worth it, the stress of packing and unpacking was definitely worth it. being with him was worth it, all of it was. she wouldn’t trade it for anything, no matter how stressed and strung out she was right now. nothing could beat the look on her face.

leon could see that.

“do you wanna try unpacking the bedroom first? i already built the bed.” he says with a small smirk into her hair, holding onto her waist with hands that could easily crush her, but didn’t. she fights another grin, “mhm…” she hums.

they unpack the bedroom, what they can of it. she becomes exhausted after about 10 boxes. moving was clearly not her favorite task, that was apparent.

if anything she despised it, but she’d do anything for him. even if it meant packing her entire apartment into boxes just for him. she’d do just about anything for him. even this.

he sighs and looks at her, “you feeling okay?” he asks softly as he rubs his hand over her shoulder. she sighs and nods, rubbing at her eyes. “i’m just tired. today was a lot. i just…moving has never been fun.” she says with a weak smile as she looks up at him next to her.

he nods, chuckling, his hand still squeezing and rubbing at her shoulders. “but you like it right?” he asks with a teasing raise of his brow. she grins; lovesick just by his eyes on hers. “absolutely.” she responds without hesitation.

“good, thought i had something to worry about baby.” he says with a small laugh, moving to grab the last box of the bed. it was his, the messy scrawl of his handwriting on the side was barely legible. she laughs softly and sits on the side of the bed, watching him tear open the cardboard box with ease.

she looks at the decor of their room, the black iron headboard and large queen bed that had dark green sheets and a duvet to match, their photos and books, little knickknacks from life spread together throughout the room. she really was home with him.

it sunk into her exhausted bones that moment as she looks over at him, watching him unpack stuff from the box. “what’s in there?” she asks with a small looking from the box label to him.

he sighs and lifts out a picture frame, showing her a picture of him. he was definitely younger in the picture, maybe 21. he was in his police uniform, smiling widely at the camera. she smiles softly, “aww! look at you!” she says with a teasing smile as she moves over on the bed and towards the box.

she knew he was a cop at one point in his life. something unfortunate happened that made him disband from that and go to his current job. he never really spoke of it, saying that he couldn’t technically. she didn’t mind, she knew he was only following orders and doing what he needed to.

he rolls his eyes, “i wasn’t expecting that much of a reaction.” he says with a small blow of his lips. handing the framed picture towards her. she takes it and traces her fingers over the frame. “how could i not? you looked so cute in your little uniform!” she says with a small giggle as she showcases the photo in his direction again.

he rolls his eyes again, “shut up.” he chuckles lowly as he continues to pull stuff out of the box. loving his girlfriends teasing on the matter, he would agree that he was cute back in his day. back when he was a bright eyed cop, eager to protect and serve. but he had no idea what was in store from him that day in ‘98 when he went to raccoon city.

he pulls out his uniform, the spare one that they gave him to commemorate his service to the force when he first graduated the academy, holding it in his hands. a myriad of emotions crosses over his eyes and she doesn’t miss it.

“you miss it?” she says with a small curious expression over her face. her tone gentle as she analyzes the mixed look over his face. he sighs, “i only did it for one day, but i miss the idea of it.” he says as he glances over at her on the bed.

she nods in understanding, “i’m sorry, honey. i really am. i know what it’s like…in a sense to have something that you wanted ripped away from you.” she says softly as hers brows dip in sympathy. “i don’t know what happened,” she pauses and takes a small breath. “but whatever did happen that day. doesn’t mean that you aren’t still that person inside.” she whispers softly.

he smiles at her, so grateful that even if she doesn’t fully understand. she’s willing to try for him. he knows that, knows how caring, loving and understanding she is. she’s been that way since they started dating.

he dug into the box again, pulling out some handcuffs and holding them up. “i forgot all about these.” he says with a small smirk as he looks over at her. she tilts her head and her eyebrows furrow, “they’re just handcuffs…” she says with a small chuckle.

he shakes his head, “we got two pairs of them. i used one for my uniform and my other pair…these pair of handcuffs i used personally.” he says with a small smirk as he holds them up.

“personally?” she says in confusion, the dots weren’t connecting in her brain and she had no idea what he was even talking about. “i used them on the girls i dated before you.” he says as he holds up the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger with ease.

they were just a normal pair of handcuffs, normal metal ones that looked like anything a police officer would carry. that was until the dots connected and her eyes widened, realization dawning on her when she figured out what he truly meant by using the handcuffs.

her cheeks flushed red, her wide eyes blinking at him from where she sat on the bed. “really? i didn’t know you were into that.” she says and it’s not all shock, it’s curiosity and something else entirely.

he chuckles lowly, he sets the handcuffs on the bed. then moves the half empty moving box off the bed. “i am, i haven’t done it in a long time. haven’t been willing to find someone to try it again with.” he says with a small tilt of his head as he runs his fingers over the clasp of the handcuffs.

she doesn’t know what within her makes her open her mouth and say, “i’d try it with you.” she says softly as she looks at the large pads of his fingers running over the metal surface of them. as if he’s in contemplation, he looks up at her. “really? you’d be handcuffed, wouldn’t be able to touch me and i know how you like to touch me.” he says with a small quirk of his lips.

his eyes gleaming with something predatory and exciting, igniting her bones into flames. her core throbbing as she shifted on the bed under his gaze. she tucks some hair behind her ear. “yeah…” she breathes slowly, “i’d do it.”

he smirks and shakes his head, chuckling. “are you sure? you seriously wanna go down that road, baby?” he says with a grin, still holding the handcuffs in his hands. hands that could swallow her whole and easily break her in half, she feels her core throb again. that familiar feeling resurfaces in her underwear.

she nods slowly, licking her lips. she felt saliva leave her throat. she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to try it. wanted to give him what he wanted. he nods slowly and gestures to her clothes. “strip.” he says with a small demand, not even a question. something she can’t even argue against if she wanted to.

she slid off of the bed under his gaze, as she strips off her clothes one by one until she was completely bare. he feels himself get harder at everything that’s transpiring right in front of his eyes. her naked for him has never failed to make him hard, make him want to devour her whole and take her.

he goes over to the half unpacked box on the floor and gets the keys for the handcuffs, unlocking them and walking back to where she stood on the opposite side of the bed, waiting for him. he licks his lips, unlocking the handcuffs with a small clink.

she feels her arousal pooling between her legs at his gaze, blue deep pools of his irises that are almost dark with lust. he sweeps his eyes over her bare frame in front of him, “turn around, baby.” he says softly and lowly at the same time.

the gruff of his voice making her erupt in goosebumps as she turns around, putting her hands behind her back without him even having to ask. he chuckles lowly, “eager to be handcuffed, very naughty babygirl.” he hums lowly as he clamps the handcuffs around her wrists, locking them and making sure they fit comfortably around her wrists.

she feels his words wash over her, feeling the cold metal clink over her wrists behind her back, the cold feeling making a shiver crawl up her spine. he backs up, licking his lips from behind her, admiring her handcuffed and naked.

she can feel his eyes boring into the skin of her back, making her bite her lip. her core was throbbing for him, wanting him more then anything. the exciting prospect of what was to come seeped through her pussy.

he strips off his shirt and pants, tossing them to the floor by her clothes on the floor. she swallows as she hears each drop of his clothes to the floor behind her, her heartbeat accelerating in her bones as he drops his boxers.

he was just as bare as her now, he takes a couple steps closer and leans over her back, running his fingers over her stomach from behind. “all naked and dripping for me baby, i can practically smell it on you.” he says lowly as his hot breath drifts over her neck.

she swallows and her eyes flutter open and shut, “i’ll tell you what’s going to happen now, okay?” he says softly, his voice was so familiar yet raspy and full of desire for her. she nods slowly as he presses a kiss to her neck, making her bite her lip. if she bit it any harder blood would draw from the anticipation.

“your gonna get on the bed, bend over and i’m going to fuck you until your crying on my cock. sound good?” he says with a small raspy chuckle as she draws his fingers from her stomach up to her breast, lightly squeezing it. a small whine escapes from her lips as she nods. he presses another kiss to her neck, he motions for her to do what he says.

she manages to crawl onto the bed, it was more difficult without her hands. he grabs a pillow and puts it under her hips keeping her somewhat comfortable and propped up. her cheek pressed into the new sheets that covered their bed.

she feels the bed dip with his weight as he kneels behind her on the bed, running his large hand over the dip in her ass. his dick was standing at attention now, hard and leaking precum as he grabs it.

she wiggles her ass a little in his direction, “please leon, cmon.” she whines as she tries to get some kind of friction from the pillow underneath her hips. he chuckles lowly, running his hand slowly over his shaft, “patience babygirl.” he says with a small squeeze of her ass, she whimpers softly

he lets go of his cock and runs his fingers into her leaking core, putting two fingers inside of her to stretch her out. he always did this before, just to get her ready for him. no matter how many times they had sex, she still was never prepared for his size.

she moans softly into the duvet cover on their bed, trying to push back against the two fingers stretching her out. “please…” she whines as she tries to pull at the handcuffs, her pussy swallowing his fingers as he stretched her out.

“you’ll get it, like i said, patience baby. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he says in a low tone as he kneads her ass with his free hand. she whimpers and clenches around his fingers, her arousal sucking his fingers into her entrance. he continues to knead her ass and stretch her out, “sucking my fingers in princess, jesus.” he says in a small groan.

she whimpers at his words, trying to chase his fingers again but he pulls them out and she sighs at the loss. he chuckles at her small sigh, “i’m sure you’d rather cum on my cock, right?” he says with a small little smack to her ass cheek he was kneading.

she nods into the duvet her face is half buried in, her wrists aching a little from the handcuffs. he sighed softly, “don’t worry princess, i’ll give it to you. give you anything you want.” he says with a small smirk on his angelic features.

he grabs his cock and runs it through her soaked slit, whimpering trying to get friction against the head of his cock. the tip hitting her clit a couple times, making her bones ache and her core pulse.

“so wet and needy, just needed some dick.” he says in a mocking tone as he lets out a half groan, his hard erection covered in her release. she felt her pussy throb and her hole clench around nothing at his words, “well, here you go baby.” she heard him say before he shoved himself into her soaking entrance.

she moaned loudly, her body automatically reacting. she felt so full of him, her bones in her center accommodating him and his size. she felt her bones in her wrists ache as he kept one of his large hands steady on her ass, letting her get adjusted before he started moving.

“breathe, baby.” he says in a soft but low rasp of his voice from behind her. she nodded and did as she was told, breathing in and out slowly, trying to think about anything else other than the sheer size of how he stretched her out.

“good girl.” he praised when he saw her take some deep breaths. he saw her relax a little as her hips adjusted on the pillow that propped her up. he slowly flexed his hips back and pushed in a little, starting to slowly thrust.

she released small noises into the duvet on their bed, tugging at her wrists on the handcuffs. he eventually started to pick up his pace, a little faster as he grabbed onto her handcuffed wrists behind her back and tugged her up.

she gasped, him still fully sheathed inside of her. her back was now pressed to his chest, her knees shadowing his on the bed. he held one hand on her stomach and another on her breast, kneading slowly as he began thrusting deeper at this new angle.

she moaned loudly and canted her head back, tears welling in her eyes, “leon…” she moaned as she felt her hands form fists behind her back. his hands keeping her steady as he fucked into her from behind, his his snapping against her ass. “good girl…” he groans into her ear, “fuck…so fucking…god—tight…christ.” he manages to get out between moans and groans that escaped his lips.

his touch to her chest and his words, she felt that familiar feeling bubble in her lower belly. “harder…” she whined as she tried to move against her handcuffs on her wrists. he obliged, bending her back over the pillow and putting his hands on her hips, snapping into her with such force that their bed shook.

her eyes went crossed and she felt tears leak out of her eyes, almost drooling on the sheets as moans leaked from her mouth. chants of his name, curses and screams of pleasure. sex with him never disappointed, ever.

“gonna…cum…” she managed to get out in between the cries of pleasure and the sound of his hips against her ass. he just kept pounding into her, like a wild animal. she pulled at the handcuffs on her wrists again, clenching her fists as she felt herself becoming closer and closer to the end.

“cum for me, princess. scream my name.” he says lowly as he keeps snapping his hips, making curses fall from their mouths in a chant. he could feel himself getting closer, his hips starting to stutter but so determined to deliver what she needed.

she felt the blissful end, her eyes fluttering shut and then lined with tears. “leon!” she screamed as she came, releasing all over his cock as she melted into the mattress. the clenching of her around him, her walls sucking him in was enough for him to release a low groan, “princess…”

his end came too, shooting thick ropes of cum into her womb, painting her walls white with him. she could feel him filling her up, feeling so dazed and full. just so satisfied that her body and arms felt like jelly.

he breathed heavily as he reached away on the bed, grabbing the handcuff keys, unlocking the handcuffs and tossing them on the floor by their clothes. she felt her arms collapse down to the mattress.

he pulled out of her, their mixed fluids leaking out of her. he leaned down a ways on the bed and licked the dripping fluids from her entrance, causing her to shiver and her thighs to tremble a little from her intense orgasm.

“you did so good, so fucking good baby. c’mere.” he says softly as he leaned back and moved to the headboard. she weakly raised her body from the kneeling position on the bed, moving her shaking and sweaty body to lay beside him.

he wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her sweaty hairline. his hands rubbing up and down her spine. “so proud of you.” he whispers into her hair. she smiles lazily as she looks up at him from her head on his shoulder.

she blushes from his praise, the tiredness from the day of moving and the sex sweeping over her. “sleep now, we’ll deal with all the other shit tomorrow.” he says calmly, running a hand through her hair and holding her naked body close to his.

and she did, her eyes fluttering shut. his heartbeat against her ear pulling her into sleep. their heartbeats in sync as they held each other, promising not to let go.

taglist: @heartsforvin

an: hope you guys enjoyed, please interact if u did :,) my asks and requests are open in my bio. my taglist and masterlist are linked at the beginning if u wanna interact. i love you all sm <33 kisses, xx

[cocobear18]

Angel - Sam Monroe

Content Warning: 18+, fluff, smut, virginity loss, love confession, all that stuff, idk

WC: 3k+

Summary: Best friend! Sam climbs through readers window, love confessions, and smut follow

A/N: first fic...like ever, so don't come at me if it's shitty, i'm just a girl. also didn't know what to title it but I think sam calls reader angel the most so I just went with that.

Walking into your room after getting home for the day, your school bag down falls off your shoulder and onto the floor before you press play on your CD player, the last thing playing being a playlist Sam had burned recently and left in the machine after his last visit. After zipping down your boots and kicking them off, you pick up your discarded pajama shorts from that morning when you had changed out of them, black with little skulls and crossbones displayed all across them and a hot pink ribbon drawstring and so short your ass almost hangs all out, they were your current favorite. Shimming down your jeans and sliding them on, your phone rings before you can continue changing, leaving you in the tiny tank top you had worn that day. 

Digging through your bag to retrieve your phone you see your best friend Sam's name light up on the screen “Hello?” you say, plopping down on the bed and pressing the phone to your face. 

“Open your window.” your head pops up and your eyes dart to your window as he taps a few times to signal he is on the other side of the glass. 

A groan escapes you as you get up after having just laid down, you hang up your phone and toss it on your bed before walking over and opening the window for him, “You're the only one who uses my window as your preferred method of entrance.” you comment as he climbs in, knocking a few things that sat close to the window over and you watch as his face as he struggles to ground himself.

“Yeah, yeah, it's just that no one has the same determination to see you as I do.” His expression morphs into a smile at you as he stands up straight. 

You roll your eyes and start to head back over to the bed, Sam watches your ass as you walk away and he stays in place right where he is. “I like your shorts” he finally follows you and joins you on your bed. “They’re cute”

You look at him with realization “Did you see me change into them? Perv.”, You already know the answer as you see the satisfied look on his face. 

“I'm innocent,” His hands shot up in mock surrender, “How was your class,” He asked, not truly interested in any type of academics but pretending to care for your sake.

“Well, it was alright, there were some really nice people taking it, and a cute guy sitting in front of me, there were some girls who had cute style, I might try to make friends with them- maybe. The professor was really nice too, I think I’m gonna like the class” You told him, trying to keep your eye contact with him and not let your gaze fall to his lips and he periodically licked them as he listened to you speak.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “A cute guy? Really?” His face looks unimpressed and he rolls his eyes.

You huff  “Out of all of that, that's what you focus on?” You push him slightly and he returns his gaze to you. 

“I’m just asking, can’t I ask?” Sam questions with a clear attitude. 

“That wasn't even like the top two things you should be focusing on, I mentioned wanting to make new friends and liking the class, you could ask me about that.” He gives you a blank stare as you speak.

Sam digs in his pocket before pulling out a lighter and pack of cigarettes, “M’not that interested in the class” You pull the box out of his hand before he can even pull one out. 

He attempts to get it back but you move it to your other hand and stretch so it's out of his reach. “Nuh-uh, I don't want my room smelling like cigs- and I was hoping you’d ask about the girls I mentioned, I think you’d like this one girl.” You gently place the cigarettes on your nightstand. 

“M’not interested in the girls either” He lays on his side, his arm propping him up as he still faces you to continue talking. You turn your head towards him and he tilts his own. “How ‘cute’ is the guy? “

You shrug your shoulders “I don't know, cute enough that I'm gonna look forward to going to class, nothing gonna happen though, he seems like one of those guys that just wanna have sex and dip, and I’m not that type of girl.”

His eyebrows raise and he looks too amused for your liking, “Not that type of girl? Alright, Mary, when are you gonna just bite the bullet and fuck someone, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Don’t call me that, can’t believe you found a way to make me regret making you watch Gilmore Girls with me.” Your hands gently play with the drawstrings on your shorts. “And m’not just gonna have sex with some random guy in my class.” You took a pause, hoping he’d take his turn to talk but you were met with an expecting look, urging you to continue. “I’m good with not having gone all the way yet. I don't want my first time to be with someone random, you know that.”

His fingertips find their way to your thigh and he begins to slowly move them back and forth. It wasn’t abnormal for you to talk about sex with Sam, but it was usually him doing most of the talking and his slight touch didn't convince you that you would be able to say anymore without stumbling over every word. “Why are you so curious?”

His hand moves from your thigh up to your hair, slowly tucking one side behind your ear to get a better look at your face, “Just curious.” he says matter of factly.

You stay quiet for a moment, “He just- he's cute, that's it, I always have someone in a class I think is cute, but I don’t know him well enough to envision that - me and him. I haven’t even had a conversation with him, it was the first day, he could turn out to be a shitty person.” Your eyes are darting around him, the way his touch was so gentle against you had you short-circuiting. 

You can't stop yourself from quickly looking at his face and your eyes get locked in with his. “So you need to know someone well enough to even think about fuckin them?” He asks.

“Well- yeah, why would I want to have sex with someone I don’t know, that kinda stupid. I’m not gonna fantasize about losing my virginity to a total stranger, well.. besides like- hot celebrities.” You tried to joke but earned no laugh from Sam, much to your disappointment. You weren't completely inexperienced in the intimacy field but something had always stopped you from crossing the finish line. Sam had jokingly volunteered himself when the two of you were in high school but besides your first kiss that was a dare in freshman year nothing had happened between the two of you, everything explicitly intimate you had ever done was with your ex.

He stares at your face for a few seconds “So do you fantasize about me? I’ve told you before that I could be the one…” You watch as the piercing by his lip moves a little, and his tongue fidgets with the part inside his mouth. 

You laugh lightly, he’d made similar comments in the past but with no actual promise behind them. “I wanna lose it to someone who loves me, not someone whos’ just doing it as a favor. You do not love me like that, as a friend sure, but I need more than that”

 Sam places his hand on your cheek guiding your face to look at him. “(Y/n)-” He pauses, hesitant to continue and the silence is so long that you wish you could read his mind in order to skip this part, “The first time I met you, I needed you. The first time you looked at me- I fell in love. Not only with the way you look but the way you are, the way you love, and the way you treat me- like I'm not just some waste of space. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I love you with every part of me. My mind, my body, my heart, they’re all yours, they all love you.” He reaches out for your hand and guides it to his chest, placing your hand over his heart. You feel as if it beats as if it's going to pop out of his chest and when you look at his face, his eyes are wide, pupils dilated and filled with desire. “You’re like if an angel fell from heaven and landed right into my life- you bless me with your beauty every time I see you and I love you. I always offer myself because I hate the thought of you with anyone else.”

Sam couldn't tell what you were feeling, he wanted to wait for you to talk, but he was so- so impatient. He scooted closer to you and once again guided your face to look at him. His stomach did flips as you looked at him, he loved your eyes and how they flickered up to meet his. He leaned in and captured your lips with his. He tasted like cigarettes, no doubt he smoked one or two while he was outside your window. 

If Sam was being honest, he could kiss you for the rest of his life and be content- but he knew he could have more, and not only was he impatient, he was greedy. He needed every part of you, he had been patient enough, and now he needed every inch of you. “Sweetheart can I-let me-” You nod your head, still kissing him and muffling his words as you do so.

He slides off the bed, disconnecting his lips from yours and smiling as you move your face forward, trying to chase his kiss. His knees hit the ground and he looks up at you before peppering little kisses all over your thighs, slowly parting them and placing even more on the inside. His hands slide up and slowly start pulling your shorts down. “This okay?” He asks and you lift your hips, letting him fully remove them. 

His eyes focus on your panty-clad pussy, the wet spot in the middle made the dark red material even darker and he couldn't resist sticking his tongue out and liking a long, slow stripe that felt like a messy kiss. He continued to make out with your pussy through your panties, your whimpers filled the room as the music you had put on earlier continued to softly play.

He finally goes to pull down your panties and you let him, his touch is slow, like he’s savoring every moment, the material slowly moves down and when he finally pulls them from your ankles he places a quick kiss on your left thigh. You almost miss the way he pockets your panties. Almost. 

He opens your thighs and slots his head right in front of your bare pussy. “So pretty baby, every part of you.”, He uses his thumbs to spread your pussy for him, taking all of you in.  His tongue begins to lap at your folds, from top to bottom, trying to taste as much of you as he can. He moves to start circling your clit with his tongue and his fingers find their way to your opening, tracing, and teasing. “You gonna let me fuck you, baby? Gotta stretch you open, make sure it feels good for you, yeah?” He asks, wide-eyed and hopeful, and how could you ever say no?

You nod eagerly “Y-yeah Sammy, just be gentle- haven't had more than like two fingers in me before, and that was a while ago.” He grunts before nuzzling his face back into you, hating the fact that he’s not the only one to see you like this. 

He slides a finger in and you moan, he thinks- no he knows- it’s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. It beats any song he's ever listened to and blasted through his speakers. He adds another one, knowing you can take it. His fingers felt so good inside of you, and he could feel how tight you were. He began pumping them in and out of you, his mouth latched onto your clit and he began to suck. Eventually, he added a third, and you were wet enough for him to do so with ease. He felt you tighten around his fingers as your breaths got quicker and this caused him to pull away, not wanting you to cum just yet.

You whine at the loss of his fingers and mouth but he shuts you up by coming up onto the bed with you and kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth and he begins to pull your shirt down. He slides the thin straps down your arms so your tank top rests on your torso and he makes quick work at undoing your bra. His mouth attaches itself to one of your nipples, sucking and licking like he had just done to your clit, using his hand to knead and pinch the other. He switched a few times before you tugged at his shirt, almost begging him to take it off and he complied. Your hands go to undo his studded belt and he lets you continue your actions. You undo the button and the zipper and he does the rest in getting them off of his body, leaving him in only his boxers. 

He pushes you back on the bed and hovers over you before kissing you again. His hips come down and he starts to grind his clothed cock on your cunt. You reach down and push the front of his boxers down, eyes going wide as his dick falls to your stomach. “Holy shit Sam, that's not gonna fit inside of me.” he kisses you again, teeth clacking together for a moment, making you giggle.

“It will baby, I’ll make it, I promise, it’ll feel good- gonna make you feel so good.” he rambles before lining himself up with your entrance. “Just gonna start with just the tip.” 

You nod, trusting him and you moan as soon as he gets his tip inside of you, he waits all of 10 seconds before begging you for more. You nod and tears start to form as he sinks inside of you. ‘Sammy- hurts” you let out as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you. 

He kisses the tears on the side of your face and they escape your eyes. “I know baby, I know, it’s gonna feel real good soon, just gotta get used to it, angel.” His face moves to your neck and his hands roam all over, waiting for you to give him the okay to move. 

After a few moments, you give in and nod your head. His hips begin moving as his dick pumps in and out of you, biting his lip to muffle his moans. He fails, and instead, his moans translate to whimpers as his mouth lays so close to your ear that you hear his noises clearly and in all of their glory. “F-fuck baby, feel so good- like I'm in heaven.” The pain turns to pleasure as he continues his movements. 

Your hips begin to lift, trying to get more of him as he comes down to meet you. “Need more- please need more Sammy baby.” Your hands come up to the nape of his neck and you thread your hands into his hair, slightly tugging and earning a loud moan from him and causing his movements to stutter. 

He starts moving faster, resting his hands on your hips to hold you steady and closer at the same time and your moans get louder. “Fuckkk- you feel good angel? Yeah? “ His hand snaps to grab your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, his actions starting to become a direct contrast from the gentleness he has started with. “Yeah, bet my dick feels so good inside of you. You’re so lucky I’m the first dick you got inside of you baby.” His thrusts become sloppy and he continues to ramble. “Love you so much- love you- you feel so fucking good around me- so tight I can hardly move- squeezing me so good- fuckkk” 

He shuts up as soon as he hears your babbling, pulling you to fuck you deeper and hear you talk, “Mhmmm feels so good so so good Sammy, so big, can feel you all, all of you, mmhmmph love you- love you” His fingers move to your clit as he begins to rub a figure 8 over and over again. 

“Say that again- say you love me- keep saying it angel” He starts to pound into you, and your CD player is completely drowned out by the sounds of both of your moans and the slapping of skin against skin.”Love you, Sam, love you, love you love you, Sammy -gonna- gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum” You repeat over and over again, not being able to form a proper sentence as he ruts his dick deep inside of you. 

His head falls to your neck and his thrusts begin to falter “Gonna cum inside, gonna fill you up- so perfect- so fucking perfect for me” He lets out a strangled moan as he cums and does his best to keep moving to get you to finish. The pattern he's tracing on your clit gets sloppier and sloppier and his other hand moves to play with your tits. “C’mon- cum for me baby, you can do it, I got you.” You let out a moan as you cum, squeezing Sam's dick and you reach your peak he collapses on top of you, his hips still moving slightly and his arms wrapping around you.

Truthfully, he didn't want to pull out of you, if he could, he would spend the whole night buried inside of you, keeping you as close as you could, but you deserved to be cleaned up and taken care of. He pulls out, watching as the mix of yours and his cum leaks out of you, letting out another moan he reaches out, not being able to help himself. He scoops up some of what has leaked out and pushes it back inside of you. You moan as he repeats this action two more times before popping his fingers into his mouth to taste what you two made. You can see the thought flash across his face, “Sam-”

He starts to lap at your spent cunt, “Gotta clean you up, sweet girl.” He flattens his tongue, doing this more for him than you, he relishes in the taste of his cum inside of you. You tug at his hair in an effort to get him to stop but it only spurs him on further. He only stops as you push on his head and start to shut your thighs at the overstimulation. 

“S’too much Sam” you whine and he shifts to lay down next to you with a goofy grin on his face, His mouth and piercing glistened with your arousal and combined cum and his hair was messy, sticking up in multiple different directions.

You flip over so you can lay your head on his chest and you feel his chest quickly moves up and down while he tries to catch his breath. He leans down and plants a small kiss on top of your head before you both drift off to sleep.

[jeonjaemark]

a christmas adventure || lee jihoon

content warning: sexual themes, MDNI, mentions of riding (m. receiving) || masterlist

jihoon’s pov

after looking through certain audios and arranging the different sound bytes, my eyes started to ache staring at the screen for the last three hours. i turn my chair away from my screen closing my eyes and rest my hand back against the rest behind me. exhaling and inhaling a few deep breaths my eyes snap open at the instrumental ringtone of iu’s love wins all. i immediately reach for my phone already feeling the pressure of my head getting lighter.

“hi lovey.” her cheery voice chimes through the other line.

“hi lovey. you’re awake still? what’s up?” i glance at my watch seeing it’s almost two in the morning.

“nothing much. i just wanted to check in on you. i miss you.”

“i miss you too. i am sorry i had to cancel our lunch date today.” i tell her, my voice going a bit higher out of guilt.

the last few weeks i haven’t spent much time back home with y/n. between the different schedules of being at the studio, photoshoots, video shoots and rehearsals i barely had any time to even kiss y/n on the head before i leave. when i wake up for work she is asleep and when i get back home from work she is asleep. when we call each other during break, it usually for at least thirty minutes before one of us has to end it because she has her work and i have mine. i don’t remember the last time i have seen her when she is awake in broad daylight outside of video calls. it’s almost like we are in a long distance relationship.

“it’s okay. i understand why it’s cancelled.” she reassures me. “but is there any way i could steal you from your work for maybe a couple or twenty minutes?”

“lovey, you know i would drop anything for you.”

“i am happy you said that. there is a little red box for you in your top right drawer.“

i put the phone of speaker and glide over to my desk in search of the red box. the moment i slide open my top drawer there it was. a small square red box with a bow on top. i picked up the box and set it on my desk.

“what did you do?” i questioned curiously.

“you’ll see. have fun.” she ends the call before i could ask any further questions.

i open up the box with a bunch of crumpled up colored tissue paper. i toss out the crumpled paper onto my desk until i reach a card with the words ‘read me’.

hiii lovey!! welcome to your christmas scavenger hunt. today you will be forced to leave your studio for a bit. under this note will be your first clue on what you will have to find and where to go. don’t worry, nothing is too far and it’s within walking distance. so dress warmly, drink some water (or cola) and have fun ;)

xx your favorite lovey

i chuckle at the note and search for the clue in the box. a barbie pink folded paper stood out among the colored tissue paper. i pick up the note and immediately knew where to go. i threw on my hoodie and headed down the elevator walking to a nearby convenience store.

the note had mention to go to the one place where we can find all our favorite midnight snacks. i scan down the different aisle picking out the different snacks y/n likes to eat. however i couldn’t find a note within any of the packaging. i look over the note again trying to figure out the clue when it me. it said “our” favorite snack at midnight.

i rush out of the current aisle i was in and head down to the drink section. usually y/n and i like to share a cola and a bag of salty chips. i search for the coke zero when i noticed a pink note attached to one of the colas. i reach for the note reading for the next place to go.

clue after clue, i finally arrive at the last place. the last clue had hinted for me to go to place where we lost track of time talking all night. i quietly enter the cafe as the worker nods greeting me.

the strong aroma of caffeine hits me like a tidal wave. there aren’t many cafes that are open this late but y/n and i happened to stumble upon during one of our dates. it was the one night that left a core memory for the both of us.

the clue was telling the truth about y/n and i losing track of time here. when we got caught up in the rain that night, we found shelter in this cafe for a few hours. we ended up talking all night together. i have never laughed or smiled so hard in my life that night. a warm tingling sensation seeps through my skin at the thought of our first kiss happening that same night.

“sir, here is your coffee.” the barista calls out to me quietly, handing me one hot mocha hazelnut latte and an iced americano

i thank him politely when i noticed a pink note underneath the hot drink. i carefully set the drinks down on the table and read the note.

you’ve finished your hunt. now it’s time to come back to the place that is your second home

i head back to my studio shaking off some of the leftover snow. when i close the door, fairy lights switch on. i didn’t have fairy lights before leaving my studio earlier. i whip my head around finding y/n sat on my chair in a grey wool coat that barely cover his knees with a pair of red heels. it seems a little dressed up for a studio visit. her hair was pinned half up and down. her skin glowing under the fairy lights.

——

y/n pov

“surprise!” i smiled as he enters his studio.

“lovey! you’re here!” he smirks.

“did you enjoy your scavenger hunt?”

“yeah but i am more happy to see my prize at the end.”

jihoon sets the bags of snacks he bought and coffee onto the table near him. he slides off his coat fixing his hair. i stood up from his swivel chair and walk to the middle of his studio.

“what are you doing here?” his voice filled with suspicion.

“well you’ve been coming home tired because of work. i thought i could give you a different reason to be tired.”

i unbutton open the coat as it slide down to my ankles. i adjust the silk straps and run my hand down sheer fabric of the babydoll dress. my fingers play around with the giant bow covering my breast. jihoon’s eyes scan up my body. his shoulders perk up along with the corners of his lips intrigued and interested by choice of outfit.

“i know it’s a bit early for you to open up your christmas gift from me, but i thought of something else you could open that can make us both happy.”

i slowly walk over to jihoon, my heels dragging lightly against the wood floor with each step. his eyes take me in, slowly and steadily watching every movement i take towards him. the smug grin on his face only boosts my confidence to keep going with my little game. i stood in between his spread legs looking down at him. i turn around sitting my ass against his perked up friend and start to grind against him. jihoon presses his hands to my waist and i lean forward moving back against him. a few deep groans leave his lips making me smile. my panties start to soak at the sounds leaving his mouth and the way his finger start to grip me to be closer to him.

“y/n, someone might walk in on us.” he mumbles into my ear. his voice filled with warning as i spin to face him.

“you’re at your studio at three in the morning, who’s gonna walk in on us? a ghost?” i questioned. i bring my lips closer to his ear, “plus isn’t the possibility of getting caught part of the thrill of having sex in your studio? i thought you would be fulfilling one of your fantasies.”

“you’re such a brat.” he hissed.

“and you love me anyways.” i nips at his earlobe. “now shut up and let me make you feel good.”

i kiss down his neck as my hips roll into his finding their own rhythm. a few mixes of moans and groans leave his lips as i continue to grind into him. his hands squeezing and guiding my waist on him. i lock my arms around his neck circling my hips into him. he pulls my lips away from marking up his chest and smashes his lips to mine kissing me with much eager and need. his hips thrust up meeting mine making me moan against his lips.

i reach down for the buckle of his pants but he presses his hand to mine stopping me. “y/n…” his voice dripping with hesitation over the thought of someone catching us in the act.

i guide my hand lower palming him earning another moan, “i promise i will be gentle at first.”

he release his hand from mine and allows me to unbuckle him. he helps me slide off his pants and boxer enough for me. i lick my lips at the sight of him as he guides me down onto him. my walls begin to stretch deliciously as he enters me to the tilt. my face scrunches up at the pain of him entering me. jihoon crashes his lips against mine again pulling my head away from leaning on his shoulder. his tongue tracing the seams of mine while we waited for me to adjust to his size again. he trails his lips down my neck, nipping at a certain part that had butterflies fluttering in my stomach. i squeeze his arm once i felt the pain subside and he presses his hands to my hips ready to guide and aide me. i press my hands to his shoulders as i grind my hips into his building up to bouncing up and down. his hips snap up into mine every time i went down.

——

jihoon slides on his boxers while he grabs the blanket i had brought to cover my body. i snuggle closer to his body taking in his scent. aside from the mind blowing orgasms i’ve had (i stopped breathing after the seventh one) for the past twenty minutes jihoon and i have been cuddling on the couch randomly jumping from one topic to the next. i can’t remember the last time i stayed up like this with him.

“if there is one member you didn’t want to walk in on us, which one would it be?”

“any of them. i would be mortified.” he laughs. “i would also be pissed too cause i don’t want anyone else to see you like this except me.”

“possessive much?” i teased.

“only when it comes to you.” he presses a kiss to my lips. this time it was slow and gently not rough and eager like earlier.

he pulls away pushing himself off the couch away from me. i arch an eyebrow at him as he walks over to his computer and soundboard.

“lovey, what are you doing?”

“i am feeling inspired right now.” he grins.

“lee jihoon, you are not about to make a song about our sex life.” i spat sternly.

“no one will know except you and me. i think it would be fun.”

“you’re so annoying. maybe i need to tire you out more.”

jihoon drops whatever he is doing and walks back to the pull out couch. i laugh as he laid up against the cushions next to me. he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me on top to straddle him.

“i believe you said i need to be more tired.”

“i did, but i think you gotta earn the ride first and it’s nice to know i can pull you away from your work when it comes to sex.”

“it not just sex, only you can pull me away from work even when you’re just calling me to update about your day or when you call to tell me you miss me.” he presses a kiss to my forehead. “i admit that i tend to be a workaholic and sometimes i feel like i am not a good boyfriend to you and —- .”

“shhh, don’t do that. don’t start belittling yourself because work has been taking your time. you have never neglected me once. you always tell me in advance if something has come up when we had plans and today was the first time in a while that you’ve cancelled on me. you are doing a lot better managing your work and personal life.”

“well that’s because i have you.” he kisses me. “you make it hard for me to be away from you long.”

while work has been chaotic for jihoon and i (more for him than me), he has never forgotten to send me my favorite latte at the start of my day or how he would leave little notes around the apartment for me to find. he texts and call me in between schedules. he would even stay on call with me even if i am one who is busy and he happened to catch a break between his crazy schedule. even when we are free we spend it in the apartment together watching his latest anime that he been obsessed with or watching one of my fave romance movies.

“i love you, lee jihoon. don’t ever forget that and don’t ever belittle yourself on your love for me.” i look into his eyes making sure he understood my words.

“i love you more. i promise no more belittling.” he chuckles kissing me. “so i really can’t make that song?”

i groan pressing my fingers to my temples, “i am really gonna have to tire you the fuck out tonight.”

“we better get to work.” he teases, pulling me in even closer, tracing kisses down to my chest making me moan.

[alexa-yukiyu]

Midnight Lessons (Mihawk x gn!child!reader)

A/N: Here we go, stoic dad time! Guys please drop by my ask box, wanna get to know my audience!

Dividers by @saradika

Night had fallen in Cross Guild’s headquarters, the members still busing around completing their chores. In the main office, quiet reigned between two of the founders, the only sound echoing in the office being of Crocodile’s exhaling his cigars in a thick mist, sitting at his desk and looking over the current paperwork, and the sound of Mihawk sharpening and polishing Yoru, on the office’s couch, his sharp gaze examines his black blade for any blemishes or imperfections.

A knock rings on the door to the office the two reside in

Crocodile’s eyes narrow slightly as he bellows smoke from his cigar and looks up. He sighed, remembering he had locked the door so he and his co-worker could have a meeting, so he stood up and opened the door, grunting when he saw who was at the door.

“Mihawk, it’s your brat,” he called out, staring at the child in front of him

Mihawk puts down his sword and walks over to the child. He squats down to the child’s level*

“Why are you awake at this hour?” Mihawk asked in a deep, quiet voice

The small child mutters something under their breath, sniffling.

Mihawk raises an eyebrow and nudges their arm with his finger, asking them to look at him instead of hiding their face.

“Do not mumble; speak up.” Mihawk’s voice is like a whisper, but his stare was piercing like a sharp blade

“Can I stay with you, Dad?” They cry out, voices still barely above a whisper

Seeing the child’s sad expression, Mihawk frowns and sighs quietly.

“Yes, you can stay. But not for long; you must return to your room soon. Mihawk’s voice was still quiet, but his tone had an unmistakable gentleness as he easily lifted the child carrying them back to the couch.

The small child hugged his dad tightly, trying to muffle their sobs so as to not bother their father at work.

Reader tightened their arms around their father; in response, Mihawk gently caressed their head and patted their back, silently reassuring the child.

“Why are you awake?” he repeats his previous question.

Crocodile glances at the pair once more before turning his attention back to a stack of paperwork on his desk.

“I had a nightmare,” they cry.

Mihawk’s brow furrows, and he looks down at the child.

“What was it about?”

“Y-you were gone.”

Mihawk’s expression tightens when he hears this. His eyebrows narrow, and his lips pull into a thin line. He stays silent for a moment.

“Do not worry about such things, I will not leave.”

Reader nods, comforted by their father’s short but meaningful words.

He pulls the child close to him until their head is lying on his chest, and their face is buried into his neck. The child can feel Mihawk’s heartbeat in their chest. He wraps an arm around the child, holding them close while they sniffle and sob.

Mihawk’s expression remains blank, and he does not say a word until the child’s crying stops.

Reader nuzzles closer to him as they are slowly lulled to sleep.

Mihawk’s arms enfold the child, gently caressing them and providing comfort. The child soon falls asleep, wrapped tightly in Mihawk’s warm embrace.

“Did they fall asleep?” Crocodile’s deep voice cuts in

Mihawk remains silent. He continues caressing the child, gently ruffling their hair. Then he softly turns his head to peer up at Crocodile, still sitting behind his desk.

“Yes.” Mihawk’s voice is still calm and tranquil despite his expression turning cold and serious

That soon changed, however, as the third founder slammed open the door as he came in, startling the child wide-awake, childish cries echoing through the office.

Mihawk tightened the grip around the child slightly.

Crocodile looks up from his desk, and his eyes narrow as he sees the third officer standing at the door.

“What are you doing, Clown?” he asks coldly.

Buggy’s eyes widen in surprise at his tone. He stumbled back, and then tried to compose himself*

“I…I was just-”

Before Buggy could finish, Mihawk’s gaze pierced through him. His eyes are dark and menacing, looking like he’s about to attack him at any moment. Mihawk’s hand tightened around the child again, and he was clearly agitated.

“Out!…” a low, deadly tone leaves Mihawk’s voice. Buggy’s eyes widened in shock, even he could not ignore the seriousness of Mihawk’s tone and expression. His eyes darted to the child, still sobbing and buried in Mihawk’s arms. Buggy gulped before quickly turning to leave the office. The whole place became silent again, with only the sound of the child’s soba as they cried into Mihawk’s chest.

“I’m going to pulverize him,” grunts Crocodile

Mihawk’s attention goes from the doorway towards the crying child in his chest.

Eventually, and with the help of Mihawk’s warmth and comfort, Reader’s cries recede. They are still snuggled close to Mihawk and can feel themselves surrounded by his warmth and presence. His fingers still brush through their hair while his other arm holds onto the child firmly.

Mihawk gently moves Reader from his chest to between his legs, grabbing his sword and continuing to sharpen it

Reader looks at his actions entranced, his attention captured by Mihawk’s strong but careful sword care.

Mihawk’s hands move gracefully over the blade, which shines brilliantly in the candlelit room. His motions are quick and efficient, and he works accurately and skillfully. His face remains calm and unconcerned as he continues sharpening his sword. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Reader staring at him with a mix of curiosity, fascination, and admiration. The unspoken question lingering in the air.

“No, you cannot work on this sword.”

Reader frowns at the rejection without the child having the chance to ask but makes no comment.

Mihawk notices the expression but does not say anything. He looks at the child and raises an eyebrow before turning his attention back to the sword. He runs his thumb caressingly along the blade but then stops abruptly.

“However, I can find a sword you can work on if you so desire, Blade Child.”

They smile and nod.

“I want to. Can you tell me how to do it?”

“Yes,” Mihawk replies in a low tone as he finishes sharpening his sword. Pulling Kogatana out from its sheath in his pendant and showing it to Reader.

“You may use this sword to practice on,” he says as he puts Kogatana down and hands Reader the sharpening stone, helping them grab it correctly and guiding their hands in the appropriate motion.

The child laughs gleefully, excited to be able to repeat the similar actions they saw their father do minutes prior

Mihawk relaxes slightly at the child’s enthusiasm; he watches as Reader sharpens Kogatana with gentle but firm guidance and hand placements. After a few minutes of instruction, Reader feels comfortable enough to sharpen the sword on their own. The light sound of the sharpening stone against the blade echoes through the office.

“I did it, Dad!” Reader exclaims, showing Mihawk the freshly sharpened Kogatana

Mihawk’s expression softens as he looks at the blade with the sharp edge.

Then he looks over at Reader proudly.

He nods his head.

“Yes, this is much sharper now. Not a bad job for your first time.”

Mihawk places the blade back on the sheath on his pendant.

The child laughs at the praise, knowing it is as strong a compliment as he could pull from their stoic father.

Not sure how to feel about this one; what do you guys think? Please send in requests for what you guys would like to see next!

[munsonluhvr]

MAMA, I'M IN LOVE WITH A MECHANIC (PART 1)

mechanic!eddie munson x receptionist!reader, no warnings. ❀ part 2 & part 3 coming soon...

“No, that’s not-“ Joyce Byers begins to say as she gently pushes you to the side of the register with a frustrated, yet gentle, sigh. “It’s like this,” she says, pushing the metal buttons of the cash register, making the cash drawer pop out towards you. You frown, biting your lips as embarrassment creeps across your cheeks. On the other side of the register, the teen-boy customer looks between you and Joyce with an impatient look. 

It’s your first day as the new receptionist at Munson’s Timeless Tune-Ups, a car repair shop owned by Wayne Munson and his nephew Eddie Munson; though, so far, you’ve only met Wayne. Joyce, the current receptionist, is moving to California for a ‘new start’ she told you, and you are learning her ways, or trying to learn at least. 

It’s only 1pm, and already your head is beginning to ache. Since 7am, you’ve been learning how to work the register, schedule appointments, and learn automotive terminology in order to tell Wayne and Eddie the issues the customers are having with their vehicles – and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake in applying for this job. 

“You’ll get the hang of it, y/n. Don’t worry,” Joyce says, offering you an encouraging smile though you question her transparency. So far, you haven’t figured out the register quite yet. She moves a few paces to the side, pulling out a box cutter from her back pocket and bending down towards the small pile of cardboard boxes that rest behind the counter. “Mind helping me with these?” Joyce says, gesturing towards the boxes. You nod, leaving from behind the register to help. 

Together, you and Joyce cut the boxes open, revealing various types of air fresheners and other car accessories, placing them neatly on the racks on the wall. Munson’s Timeless Tune-Ups is a small, humble shop, the register adjacent to the garage area where the Munson’s fix the cars. The office is small, the register placed on top of a wooden table. Off to the right, the wall is covered with things to purchase, small pamphlets explaining different car issues. The windows that line the wall allow for ample sun to flush into the office, making it bright. 

Behind you, the telephone rings loudly, causing you and Joyce to jump. Joyce drops the product she holds back into the box and moves towards the telephone. You hum softly, continuing to place the little packets of air fresheners onto their hooks. You’re living in your own mind until Joyce inhales sharply and then places the phone back onto the hook. “Y/n, I’m so sorry to have to do this, especially on your first day, but my son Will needs to be picked up from school,” Joyce says, moving quickly to collect her jacket and purse from the chair. “I don’t think the Munson’s have many cars left to do so you won’t have to worry about using the register, hopefully they’ll give you exact change.” 

You try to maintain a smile, though panic is beginning to settle into you. You barely can use the register, somewhat know how to schedule appointments, and ask the right questions to write down for the Munson’s, but what are you to do without Joyce? “O-Okay, Joyce.” 

“Just be sure to lock up, the keys are on the hook by the door.” Joyce gestures towards the door that leads into the garage part of the shop where a set of keys dangle on the hook. You nod, biting your lip again to ease your anxiety. “Good luck.”

“I hope your…“ you begin to say as Joyce pulls the door open. “…son feels better,” you finish, though Joyce is gone before you can finish your pleasantry. You sigh to yourself, looking at the several boxes that are left to unbox, price, and put onto the wall.  You continue your work, pleased that you at least have something to keep you busy until the shop closes. 

Off in the distance, somewhere in the garage, you can hear Wayne and who you assume is Eddie, chatter back and forth, listening to the radio loudly. Occasionally there is a loud bang, a clank, of the last of the customers cars behind repaired. Your fingers are laced with angst, the anticipation of not knowing how to use the register, or anything really, making it hard to concentrate.

Working in the quiet of the office is disturbed when the chime of the front door signals a customer. Placing your hands on your knees to lift you up, you turn towards the door ready to greet the customer but the male standing in the doorway is covered in grease, dirt marks tattering his bare arms and glistening chest. He has long, dark, curly hair, a red bandana covering the top of his head. This must be Eddie. 

“So, you must be Joyce’s replacement. Y/n, right? Aren’t you pretty,” Eddie says bluntly, moving towards the water dispenser in the corner of the office. Your eyes widen, goosebumps raising on your skin as you watch him walk past the front of the register. “Thanks,” you mumble, looking down at the surface of the register counter. 

“Wayne said this is your first day on the job,” Eddie says, glancing at you. His eyes graze the length of your body as you places a small, paper cup underneath the spicket and then push the lever for water. “How’s it going so far?” 

You flush under his sight, feeling every curve and inch of your flesh under scrutiny. You clear your throat, trying to glance at Eddie casually. God, he’s so gorgeous. “F-Fine. Joyce had to leave but I think I can manage.” 

Eddie hums, taking a few paces to sit in the chair that’s a few inches from you. He sighs loudly as he sits, kicking his feet out to rest on the register counter, blocking you in. He leans his head against the wall, looking at you. “I’m sure you can, I believe in you,” he says with a wink. You smile, then look away, sitting on the stool directly behind the register. 

He’s wearing a white, cotton tank top, that’s now see-through due to sweat. His jeans are covered in dirt marks, his yellow steel-toed boots now dark brown with dirt. His fingers are covered in silver rings, a silver chain adorning his defined chest. You feel your core begin to melt. 

“I just need to rest a minute, the garage has been so busy today,” Eddie says, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyelids. “You don’t mind, do you?” 

You shake your head, glancing at him quickly. “Of course not. Plus, it’s your shop.” 

“My uncle’s shop, I merely work here. Plus,” Eddie says mimicking you, “you were in here in silence and I had to come in here and disturb that.”

You shrug, a little smile creeping across your mouth. “I don’t mind the company.” 

Eddie hums softly again, opening his eyes only to flash you a little smile. You two sit in silence for only a moment when the last customer saunters into the office. “May I pay?” he asks, looking between you and Eddie. You nod, turning away from Eddie and to the customer. 

The panic begins to set in again as you stare at the metal keys of the antique cash register. You take the yellow slip from the customer, looking towards the bottom for the total that Wayne has written. You recall Joyce’s protocol on how to use the register and you follow them confidently, feeling Eddie’s eyes on you. You punch in the numbers and wait for the cash drawer to slide open – but nothing happens. “Um,” you say nervously to the customer. “Sorry, let me try again.” 

You try again yet come to the same result. You clench your jaw, heat beginning to creep up your neck. ‘Why me?’ you think to yourself.

“Let me help,” Eddie says, taking his feet of the counter. He stands up, sliding up beside you close enough that your arms brush. He punches in the total on the register, a few other buttons, and the cash register opens up with a ding! Your fingers work quick to take the customer’s bill and exchange it with the exact change. “Have a nice day,” you murmur, moving to sit back on the stool, your line of sight aimed at the floor.

Once the customer leaves, Eddie moves around from behind the counter, moving towards the front door where the customer left only seconds before. “It was nice meeting you, y/n. I can already tell I’ll be hanging in the office a lot more.” Eddie says, turning towards where you sit on the other side of the office. Before you can reply, Eddie slips out the door. 

[6okuto]

GOOD WITH KIDS

ushijima, suna, hinata, akaashi, sakusa, kita, atsumu with their kids ^__< reader is never mentioned so u can imagine them as single dads if u'd like 🫶

USHIJIMA’s tall, to say the least. his daughter finds this incredibly beneficial to her every few days. all she has to do is walk up to his spot on the couch and look a little fidgety, biting her bottom lip, for wakatoshi to smile. “is something high up again?” “yeah…the cereal’s on the top shelf again! i didn’t put it there last time though, i swear.” she furrows her brows as her dad stands up to his full height. “well, let’s get it down from there together, then.” he easily pulls her into his arms and she giggles, maneuvering her way to sit on his shoulders with practiced ease. “make sure not to bump your head,” he reminds her, slowly walking to the kitchen. “i won’t!” she carefully holds onto him, and wakatoshi’s glad she hasn’t figured out he’s the one who’s been putting things high up whenever she’s finished with them.

SUNA holds his daughter's hand, his phone with two tickets to the barbie movie open in the hand that's free. they had gotten ready together—rintarou had let her put her cutest pink clips into his hair, and made sure to get a shirt that matched the shade of her dress. he took her to buy a whole outfit for the occasion, from the dress to her bag to her shoes. the pair had taken photos and videos, one currently posted on his story that had her face out of view, but bow in her hair shown off. “can i get the barbie popcorn combo, too?” she asks in line. “yeah, you wanna get a photo with the barbie cut-out after?” “yeah, yeah! she looks so pretty.” rintarou hums and lets her swing their arms back and forth, careful not to hit the people around them. “i think you’re even prettier, though.”

HINATA has always supported his son in decorating and expressing himself, which is why when he wanted to decorate his room, he couldn’t say no, even with his lack of artistic skills. instead, they worked together to fill online shopping carts with different merchandise and furniture and got temporary wallpaper that would fit the bill. a couple of weeks later, and now shoyo finds himself sitting on the ground setting up a new desk, surrounded by boxes and different figures that will hopefully fill the bookshelf they built a few hours earlier. “dad?” “yeah?” “do you think i could get some of your team’s stuff, too?” “my—” shoyo fumbles with the screw in his hand in shock. “like, like your shirt? or something signed by uncle bokuto?” the question could make shoyo cry, he thinks, and he makes a noise of excited agreement. “of course you can! do you want to check my old high school stuff, too?”

AKAASHI’s a fan of thunderstorms. his daughter on the other hand, is not. so he’s made it a little game. they’re sitting together in a blanket fort, legs touching and hands on their lap.she fidgets slightly at the sight of the lightning, but starts to count out loud for the thunder. “one, two, three, four…” keiji joins and they watch each other carefully. at eight, the thunder rumbles the house and his daughter reaches over—not for a hug or comfort, but to try tickling her dad who does the same. she squeals as he reaches for her sides, and keiji laughs as she, maybe a little aggressively, tickles him back. when he picks her up to sit her on his lap, she yells, “no fair! that’s cheating!” between giggles and yelps. in mock indignation, keiji replies, “cheating? i would never do that.” yet stops anyway. his daughter jokingly huffs. “i’m gonna get you next time.”

SAKUSA’s eyes widen as his daughter runs up to him, only to hide behind his legs. instinctively, his hand moves to hold and comfort her as he scans the park for what could have scared her. it’s when two large dogs bark that he spots them playing with each other and the dots click. he turns to squat in front of his daughter, who looks at him with wide eyes and a pout that make his heart clench. “dad,” she says softly. “hm?” “do you think i could play with the dogs? they’re…big.” she sends a pointed look to other kids walking up to the owner and their pets. kiyoomi hums again and gently rubs her shoulder. “ it looks like they’re being nice with the other kids, right? why don’t we go together and ask?” his daughter nods and grabs his hand, and kiyoomi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles before walking over with her.

KITA’s son is adamant that his bed is the comfiest in the house. shinsuke’s happy to hear this, of course, even if he’d have to personally disagree. he’s about to rest in your own bedroom, when his son catches up to him in the hall. “do you wanna try my bed?” shinsuke blinks, processing the question. he laughs a little. “i don’t think i’d fit properly.” “we can both fit!” and before he can object, his son is pulling him into his bedroom and onto the bed that was definitely not made for the two of them to fit. but something tells him that he won’t get out of this easily, so he lets out a breathy laugh before crawling in, leaving space for his son to curl in with him. his back will probably hurt a little when he wakes up, but he pulls the blanket over the both of them anyway with a soft smile on his face.

ATSUMU rolls up his sleeves and pretends to crack his knuckles. “y’ready?” “yeah!” his son says with determination. the carnival game worker counts down, and they both get ready with their basketballs. the grand prize, the largest teddy bear, was locked behind a rigged basketball hoop, but the two of them refused to give up. and apparently atsumu’s mind is on another level right now, honed in as he succeeds with most of his tosses, and gets the last needed shot for that damned bear. “dad! you did it!” his son cheers and excitedly pulls on his arm. “ha! and who said i couldn’t play a sport other than volleyball?” “...no one?” “aw, come on,” atsumu whines, “work with me here!” the both of them are play-fighting when the worker manages to get the bear down and hand it to them. there’s huge grins on both of their faces as they shout a thanks. “can i put it in my room?” “and hide this success? it’s goin’ in the living room.” “you can do that?” “majority of the family says yes, we can do anythin’.”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[mydarlingem]

ever since we met

guys we are SO BACK i bring gifts <3 didnt realize how much i would miss writing on here. currently working on rewriting old work and new stuff so i can get back to posting on a weekly basis. hope you have been well and enjoy!!

cw. sakusa kiyoomi eats pussy, what more could you need

wc. 1800

you met sakusa kiyoomi two years ago when he took over his father’s business. every monday and saturday at 4 pm, he knocked on the back door of your flower shop. big boxes filled with one the best flowers for you. it was also two years ago when you first opened the door for him that you realized you loved him. he was so sweet and kind, always taking time to ask about you and following up on events in your life. you figured he did this with everyone on his route. little did you know that your sweet kiyoomi did not ask questions about any of his other deliveries.

he was determined to get to know you, however long it took him. he knew the movies you saw, the terrible dates you went on, your favorite flowers and your least favorite customers. no detail was too small for him, because he did care about it all. he liked your passion for your work and your love for the people around you. ever since he knocked on that door monday at 4 pm two years ago he has loved you. he knows it crazy, and he can't rationalize it for the life of him but he knows it's the truth. he knows you probably don't reciprocate but god he can't help it.

“hey kiyoomi what did you bring for me today?” you say with a smiled as you prop open the door for him. the way you say his name makes him weak in the knees, he loves how comfortable you are around him. “besides my beautiful face, everything you had on your list and an extra case of snapdragons because i know you always run out by thursday.” he smiles at you and sets down the boxes. “you really are the best thank you” you say as you walk back over to the counter to continue cleaning roses. “how are you today my favorite florist?” he asks as he sets down the last three boxes in their designated spot. “busy and understaffed” you sigh. “glad to know things always stay the same around here” he smiles and hands you a clipboard for a signature.

he likes the way you sign your name, he can't explain it but it suits you. “you know you are the last delivery of the day, so is there anything i can do to help out?” he takes the clipboard back from you as you hold back from speaking for a moment. “i have so much to do are you sure?” you ask hoping it's not just pity. “i'm here for whatever you need” he says as he takes his hoodie off and sets his things down. you never realized how many tattoos he has, or how big his biceps were. maybe him staying was good for morale. “would mind cleaning some mums for me?” he nods and steps to the counter to start.

its quiet for a little, the silence isn't awkward though. you look over at him, he's so efficient. his hands are so perfect, how is he so perfect? his voice snaps you out of your trance. “how was that date you had last week?” he asks, not looking up from the flowers in his hands. “lets just say i won’t be seeing him again” you exhale softly, mentally pleading that the very attractive man across from you will not ask you to embarrass yourself further. kiyoomi laughs softly before speaking again, “i can't believe we have never hung out outside of work” he says as he continues to clean flowers. his heart was racing at this point, you made him so nervous he was hoping you couldn’t tell.

“i know it's so crazy! we have to do something soon” you say with a smile. “well what are you doing this weekend? there’s a new bar i want to check out and i’d love to take you.” “if i didn't know any better i would think you were asking me out on a date kiyoomi” you smile before looking up at him and making eye contact with him. “and what if i am?” he says still smiling, your cheeks were so hot, was he messing with you? “well i'd think you were joking” you say trying to control the tone of your voice. he sets his flowers down as he makes his way to the other side of the table where you stand with shaky hands.

“oh im dead serious pretty girl” he runs his hand along your jaw tilting your chin towards his face. he's smiling at you like you hung and the moon and stars just for him. hes so close all you can smell is his cologne, god did he always smell this good? you aren’t sure who leans in first but your lips touch and suddenly everything feels so right. hes holding your face in his hand but slowly becoming so desperate as he kisses you. the cold metal of his lip piercings feels so good against your lips. you can't seem to get enough of him and you wrap your arms around his neck. he taps your thighs as you wrap your legs around him, he gently sets you on the counter. he breaks away from the kiss breathless and rests his head against your shoulder “you're so perfect” he all but whimpers against the skin of your neck.

“i've wanted to kiss you for so long” you say as he kisses your neck, and you run your hands through his soft hair. he moans softly at the contact and lifts his head up to kiss you again. standing in between your thighs he wraps his hands around your waist, smiling into the kiss. he can't believe this moment is real, he can't believe he finally worked up the courage to to act on his feelings. the all too familiar jingle of the front door opening snaps the both of you out of your bliss. “fuck” you say as you hop off the counter, “hi ill be right there." you look back to kiyoomi “will you please stay i promise i'll be so quick”. he smiles “dont worry im not going anywhere sweetheart.” you smile and kiss him on the cheek before running off to the front.

this might be the happiest he’s ever been. you’re so soft and sweet and oh my god he loves how gentle you are with him. he loves the effect he has on you, in fact he may just never move from this spot in the hope that you kiss him like that again. “thank you have a great day” you chirp as your voice breaks him out of his trance. you appear into the doorway to the back of the door with a smile. “hi” you say as you make your way back over to him, “hi sweet girl” he wraps his arms around you again. “i close in about 30 minutes, will you come home with me?” you ask shocked by your own boldness. the way you are looking at him he thinks he might die. “god i'll be wherever you want me.” the effect you had on him was unreal. “let me drop off my truck and i'll be back in fifteen”, “be quick” you say as you twirl his hair with your fingers. have you always been this hot?

kiyoomi was convinced was losing his mind. he has never moved faster in his life. he doesn't even remember driving his motorcycle back to your shop. all he knew is that he was walking back into your shop with more determination than he's ever felt before. “hi handsome” you say as he drapes his body against yours. “almost done?” he asks as he kisses your cheek. “i have about fifteen minutes before i can go but i'm all done.” you turn to kiss him as he plays with the waistband of your jeans. the kiss is messy and hot, he felt weak in the knees. “i can think of a few things to pass the time” he says as he breaks away from the kiss.

you smile looking up at him, his face was flushed and you could help but be proud of the effect you had on him. “please let me eat you out” your jaw drops at his words. “here?” you ask and he grins “here” he says as he drops to his knees in front of you. you could finish from just looking at this beautiful large man on his knees in front of you. “god please” he's quick to unzip your pants and slide them down your legs. he places small kisses along your thighs as he moves to put your legs on his shoulders. he kisses you through your underwear and you whimper softly. sliding your underwear to the side he starts softly using his tongue, and puts a finger inside you as he continues.

you grip his hair and squeeze your thighs against his head as he quickened his pace. “harder” he whimpers into you and you squeeze harder. god his tongue piercing is incredible. you are getting close to finishing, and he can tell. he moans into you like this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. “more kiyo” you moan out. he moves faster as he inserts another finger. the nickname could have made him cum in his pants. you are quickly approaching your high as you stutter out an “im close” he's moving faster than before, focused on you and only you. he's eating you out like a man starved, the cold metal of his piercing mixed with the warmth of his fingers had you seeing stars.

you moan his name as you finish and he cleans you up with his tongue. your legs were shaking as he stands up and licks the rest of you off of his slender fingers. “you're so incredible” you say as you wrap your arms around him and kiss him, the taste of you still on his tongue. “i've been dying to do that for two years” he says as he pulls away from you. “i love you kiyoomi” you say looking him in the eyes, "i've been dying to tell you that for two years" mustering the courage to confess everything to him. “god i love you” he says cupping your face in his hands as he kisses you again. “i love you i love you i love you” he says softly in between kisses. "ill spend forever making you feel it."

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Pen-pals

Warnings: only the hapter to start things going and to set the vibe, part one of at least 10, i have not proof read ୨୧

Chapter 1 – Greetings.

He was forced into it, no way in hell would he ever do it on his own. But his also forced councillor thought it would help him to have connections to the outside world and ensured him that if it didn’t work out within two months, he could stop trying and never do it again. But he couldn’t tell her that or it would be ‘cheating.’

Which would probably deter people but as a chronic people-pleaser, I just couldn’t let that run. So, I tried my absolute hardest to fill my letters with copious amounts of joy so that there’s no way he couldn’t write back.

January 13th

--

Dear ‘Ghost’,

I was only told your call-sign to ensure maximum confidentiality – rules right. They told me that you were the only one who could tell me your real name so if you ever feel comfortable enough, I will happily learn all about you!

Here is some information about me; my name is Y/N, I am always helping people out for work (quite interesting if I do say so myself), I love to bake in my free time and my favourite time of the year is autumn (I just LOVE the mix of weather).

I always add some questions to these letters.

Why is your call-sign Ghost?

What’s your favourite thing to do when you aren’t deployed?

And finally, a simple one – what’s your favourite colour?

From,

       Y/N.

P.S I was told you would probably take around a week – two to respond so don’t feel rushed to write back, I know how taxing your job tends to be :)

January 29th

--

Dear Ghost,     

I hope you are doing well, I’m not sure if you received the letter I sent as you haven’t replied so I’m trying again just to make sure. My name is Y/N and I have a black Labrador that I love so much. 

I have a hectic work schedule and I am always flying all over the world to help people. So I won’t always be able to write to you consistently. I hope that’s okay!

Instead of questions, I thought I would tell a little joke;

What do you call a shipment full of military-issued T-Rexes?  SMALL ARMS. 

:) hope you enjoyed that one because there are way more to come.

From

 Y/N.

February 13th

--

Dear ‘Ghost’,

This will be the last letter I am writing to you as I believe someone could get through to you, it just won’t be me. So, I have requested to be swapped buddies. 

I think it might be someone who’s in your unit, I think his name is John or Johnny – something like that. And I’m told I will be a better suit to them and their personalities.

So I hope you stay safe and are able to speak with someone who you can let your guard down too; even though they will never be as funny as me. Teehee :)

From

Y/N.

I’m quite sad that it didn’t work out as I thought we could have both benefited from it, but you know what they say – it is what it is. And at the end of the day, he needs someone he can truly feel comfortable talking to and I never did get to know him so it doesn’t affect me much in those terms. Even if a month was wasted by waiting for a never-to-arrive letter. Well the true term would be never-to-be-write-or-sent but we digress.

The birds hum a beautiful harmony as I post the final letter through the poorly painted post-box on the end of my road. As I turn to leave, the clouds above me start weeping uncontrollably at my departure.

I’ve never been one for signs but that can’t have been a coincidence.

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

They first two chapters will be mostly letters and then will move to texts and irl interactions - at least I plan...