#my knees bumping to the seat in front of me

[augustinewrites]

Ooh shit I had the worlds worst thought— Megumi snapping at Fushigojo mom OF ALL PEOPLE in the heat of some kind or argument or bad day or something and blurting out “you’re not my mom” and then just AAAH IT WOULD BE SO SAD ALL FOUR OF THEM WOULD BE HEARTBROKEN AND MEGUMI WOULD BE SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF 😭😭😭🕳️🚶‍♀️

things have been difficult since tsumiki had fallen into a coma.

it's hard not to feel her absence at home. the empty seat at the dining table, the untouched laundry left folded in the hamper. somehow she's everywhere and nowhere, and it hurts.

you and satoru are heartbroken of course, but you can't begin to imagine how megumi feels.

at first he'd been quiet. megumi had always been quiet, but this was different. the two of you used to sit in comfortable silence, content to read quietly in each other's presence. now he shuffles to and from his bedroom barely uttering a word, silence hanging heavy as you try to coax him into staying.

then his grades had started slipping. you weren't awfully concerned. his teachers had been sympathetic enough to exempt him from final exams, and excuse any late or incomplete papers. despite his record of delinquency, he's always gotten high marks.

you could excuse these things. the silence, the grades. he's a little brother missing his big sister, and he's hurting.

but now he was starting to act out.

picking fights at school, talking back to faculty, giving attitude.

you startle where you stand in the kitchen when the front door suddenly slams shut, revealing a grumpy looking megumi. he kicks his shoes off, making a beeline for his room without stopping to greet you.

satoru holds a hand up before you can ask, walking over to the genkan to fix the sneakers.

"what now?" you ask, wiping your hands on your apron when your husband returns, kissing your forehead.

"suspended indefinitely for fighting," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "he has to write an apology letter to everyone involved, and the headmaster said that next is expulsion."

"he can't keep doing this," you frown. "one of us needs to talk to him."

satoru is quick to touch the tip of his nose. "not it."

you roll your eyes (like megumi would, is that where he got it?) "yeah, it's probably best that you don't. he'd bite your head off."

he leans back against the counter, relieved. "yeah, i'd just— wait. you're doing that reverse psychology stuff on me again!"

feigning cluelessness is easy. "what are you talking about?"

"when you tell me i shouldn't do something and it makes me want to prove myself!"

"not my fault you're an incredibly prideful man."

"and just this once, i'll actually admit that talking to moody teens is not one of my many skills," he says. "this is your territory. you're the only one he might listen to. you've always been his favourite."

deep down, you know that he's right. you're the first one megumi goes to for everything. the first one he comes to with a new bump or scrape. the one whose side of the bed he squeezes into when he has a nightmare. the first one he talks to when he has a fight with a friend, or his sister...

you learned pretty quickly that megumi hated when people fussed over him (it came with his lone wolf tendencies) but he always let you.

so you steel yourself with a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door.

"megumi?" you call gently. "can i come in?"

you decide to take his muffled response as permission, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open.

megumi's sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest.

you close the door behind you. "thank you for letting me in."

he hums, peeking at you over his knees.

you sit on the floor across from him, rubbing your palms against your thighs. "i know that whatever we're feeling can't compare to how bad you're hurting, but we're worried about you."

"i'm fine."

"you're not, and you can't keep acting out at school."

"okay, i'll stop," he shrugs.

you should stop here. but you know megumi. he's only saying it because he knows that's what you want to hear.

you reach out, gently grasping his hand. "megumi, please. you can't keep this all in anymore. you always talk to me—"

"i don't want to talk about it," he snaps, jerking away from your touch. "can you just leave me alone?"

you flinch a little, surprised by the slight raise in his voice. he's never yelled at you. never snapped at you like that.

you're pushing too much, you realize. he's not ready to talk yet, you have to apologize.

"megumi, i'm—"

"just— just stop!" he shouts, expression stormy. "stop fussing over me, you're not my mom!"

to his credit, megumi looks like he regrets the words immediately, lips already shooting off an apology you can't seem to hear.

it does nothing to soothe the way your chest aches, full of hurt and a touch of betrayal. those words shouldn't hurt you as much as they do. he's right, you're not his mother.

but you don't even get to utter a word before the door swings open, a pissed off looking satoru striding into the room. shit. so he had been listening. "listen here you little shit—"

you stagger to your feet, stepping between your boys. "satoru, don't. don't! he's just upset."

"he can't talk to you like that!"

"let it go," you plead. "fighting is the last thing the three of us should be doing right now, okay?"

the three of you stand there for what seems like a lifetime, letting all the pain, frustration, and heartache fill the quiet apartment.

satoru shoots one last stern look around you before drawing a deep breath and focusing on you. you do the same as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumb swiping a stray tear away.

"we're just gonna give you some space, megs."

_____

"he didn't mean it," you remind satoru again that night, when sleep seems to be avoiding the both of you.

"i know. he still hurt your feelings though."

"well, he was right. i'm not his mom."

your husband tuts softly, reaching across the mattress and pulling you into his chest. "so what if you didn't give birth to them? you're something better because you chose them. you chose to love them and raise them when you didn't have to."

"of course i had to. they wouldn't have lasted a week in your care."

"oh? now who's being a little shit? i see where megumi gets his attitude from."

foreheads pressed together, the two of you laugh quietly. you feel light for the first time in weeks. the man holding you close, the boy sulking in his room, and the girl laying in the hospital.

they're your family, and you know they'll always love you as much as you love them.

waking up in the middle of the night to megumi squishing between you both (and satoru actually letting him) is as good a sign as any.

[violetarks]

HIII can i req for an alnst guys x mua!reader (afab) ? i want to touch their faces ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

“you like the pretty boys, with the pretty voice!”

show: alien stage

characters: till, ivan and luka

summary: he doesn’t just need to sing his best, he has to look his best too! producers have decided on pairing you up with him, meaning you would be spending lots of time tending to his physical appearance.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, till has never felt the touch of a woman before

↣ till

the door of his room opens, making till stand up cautiously from his bed. he was already forced into his outfit for today’s photoshoot, and now he awaited the dreadful makeup process.

you show up in the doorway, a girl around the same age as till, with a bag of items and a few electronics. “morning, till.” you say, walking in and placing your things on the desk. he visibly relaxes. “don’t you look good today.”

“shut up…” he mumbles back, walking over to you. he sits down in the chair you pull out, seating him in front of the mirror.

“okay, so i got told that you need a more bold look for the photoshoot today.” you claim, placing your hands on his shoulders, “you gonna’ let me do my work or are we gonna’ have another argument?”

“you can do whatever, i don’t even care anymore.” he groans, sick and tired of all these brand deals. his owner was running him dry with everything he was made to be doing recently. “do your magic.”

“good.” you say, opening your bag. you pick up one of the devices you brought with you, tossing it up into the air. it blossoms, opening up to show a ball of light coming from the centre. you point it towards till, getting a proper view of his face. “seems like the skincare routine i gave you is working.”

“isn’t it bad to keep putting all these things on my face?” he grumbles, feeling you grasp his chin. he averts his eyes while you inspect his face, gentle hands on his cheeks.

“not these ones.” you claim, feelings his cheeks heat up under your touch. you smile at him. “but it’s not like you really needed it anyway. the producer just said to get you on them. i thought you were already quite handsome.”

he closes his eyes, pulling back and running fingers through his hair. “anyway, what are we doing now?” he clears his throat, trying to calm down his heart.

“oh, right.” you say, taking the other device and turning it on, making a swivel stool for you to sit on. you move closer towards him, knee bumping with his. “okay, close your eyes for me, pretty boy.”

“stop it…” he mutters to you, doing as you say and leaning forward into your hands.

he’s patient with you, in a way that he isn’t with anyone else. which is why you were matched with him, he didn’t swear at you or thrash around. you made him out to be a tamed puppy, sitting as he waits for your touch. you found it cute.

you brushed your fingers against his jaw, making him itch closer to you. his hands grip the bottom of his chair, breath hitching as you dragged the brush along his face. you were delicate with him, holding his face and turning it when you needed. and he was willing to let you do whatever you needed.

“okay, that looks good.” you hum, retracting your hands. he always follows, but opens his eyes to stare at you. “let me do your lashes now. just some mascara, that’s all.”

you see the sour look on his face, making you roll your eyes. as you do your work, till sits quietly, careful not to move. you hold his jaw in your hand, focusing on your hands. but his head is running with how close you are to him. if he were to lean any closer, you would be kissing the guy…

instead, you lean back, bringing the light closer to his face. “ah, sorry, i got some on your cheek.” you huff, taking out a makeup pad.

you brush it against where you had smudged mascara on him, holding his face closer to yours. he’s entranced by your beauty. how your eyes are so focused on him and nothing else, how you smile at him after finished a part of his makeup. you were the most beautiful person to him.

he feels your knee knock against his inner thigh, making him look at you sheepishly. you were digging through your bag for the eyeliner and eyeshadow, claiming that he needed dark colours.

“i think we should go with black.” you say, holding out some palettes, “pick one, any will look good on you.”

he doesn’t even look at them for long, just picking out the one in the middle. you smile at him and nod your head, beginning the next stage. it takes a bit longer, till unable to keep still with how your legs are touching his, and your hands are tenderly holding his cheek. his brows knit unconsciously and you stop.

“till, relax. i can’t do your makeup like that.” you sigh, tilting your head, “i’m nearly done, promise.”

he tries to do so, resulting in upturned brows. your hold was too much! “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m just… i don’t know.”

“hm. it’s okay, i’ll be coming with you to the photoshoot.” you inform him, making till perk up a little. you do a few more touches before setting down the brush, inspecting your work and nodding your head. “there you go.”

he open his eyes and looks in the mirror. he looked pretty good, you were so skilled. “thank you, y/n.”

he turns back to you, seeing how you were already staring back at him. you were still so close, not wavering at all.

“you’re welcome, handsome.” you chime, grinning at him. you caress his cheek for a few seconds before beginning to pull away.

but till lurches forward, pressing his lips to yours. his eyes are squeezed shut, so overwhelmed with emotions. the electricity built up with every single touch you gave him, lingering or not. you had to have known what you were doing to him, you were so purposeful!

your hand returns to his jaw, gently holding him as you kissed back. till’s hands sit just beneath your waist, on top of your legs as he drags you closer. he needed more of your touch.

till goes from eager and rough to smooth and calm in a few seconds, slowing down and pulling away almost hesitantly. he is still in a daze, staring at your lips as you both gather your thoughts. and when he does, he widens his eyes and pulls away hastily.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he yelps, covering his face. he couldn’t believe himself, when did he have that much courage around you? his voice is muffled behind his hands, and his eyes are squeezed shut. “that was a mistake, please forgive me—”

you smooch his knuckles covering his mouth, a short but sweet one. he stops, freezing up at your warmth.

“it’s fine, till.” you say, grinning at him, “i liked it a lot. but i… i kind if ruined your make up a bit. let me fix it, okay?”

he drops his hand and lets you hold his face again, picking up your brush to do your touch ups. but he squeezes his eyes shut again and has to look away as soon as you’re finished. you looked even more beautiful! how could this be happening?

“till,” you say, putting your things away in your bag, “don’t be embarrassed.”

“i’m not!” he mumbles back at you, standing up, “let’s go now!”

you have to chase him down after packing away your things, seeing how red his face was. till swears he will never look you in the eye ever again.

↣ ivan

“oh, there you are.” you say, leaning against your makeup desk. the door shuts behind him, making the sound of people on the other side quiet down. “took you long enough, ivan.”

“the costumes were mixed up.” he explains, tugging at his collar to loosen it up.

you pull out the chair for him, letting ivan sit down before you set him in front of the mirror. “you know you’re not supposed to keep a girl waiting.” you joke, sitting on top of the desk and unlocking the box of makeup.

“you say that as if she isn’t obligated to wait for me.” he huffs at you, leg over his knee. he glances at your irritated face. “so what are you doing to me today?”

“clean look.” you reply, popping open the foundation.

he nods his head, watching as you take a sponge and begin to apply it on his face. you were gentle with him, slowly moving his chin to face where you needed him to face. you eyes barely strayed from him, and to say he didn’t enjoy the attention would be a lie.

one of the reason he was happy to be paired up with you was because you paid such close attention to him. when trialing to be his makeup artist, you brought him some tea to help with his throat. he asked you how you knew he liked that flavour, and you told him you saw him drink it last week. from then on, he had been stuck to you like glue.

the guy lets you do what you need to, staying as still as possible. but he opens an eye when you let out a groan. “what’s wrong?”

your fingers leave him face, almost taking all his warmth with you, as you crane your neck. “no, nothing. just hurts my neck.” you explain, hopping off the desk.

ivan blinks as you come closer to him, holding his chin in your hands to make him look up at you. you stood in between his legs, makeup brush in your other hand. ivan leans back in his chair, putting out his other leg as you come so close that his chest is nearly touching you.

“close your eyes again, okay?” you mumble out, going back to your work. you hold the back of his neck to soothe the position of his head, picking out a good colour for him. as you finish, you feel ivan’s warm hands place themselves on your waist, holding you in position. “is something wrong?”

“hm? oh, nothing.” he replies, brushing his thumb against the hem of your shirt. you shiver at the touch, hastily placing a hand on his to stop him. he opens his eyes again, seeing your flustered expression. a smile tugs at his lips. “are you alright?”

“y—yeah…” you mumble out, carefully taking your hand off his. you sigh out, trying to finish off what you needed to do. ivan is quiet, smile still on his face as you work. “okay. i’m done.”

your fingers leave his face. but you don’t get very far before he takes your hand in his. his lips press against your knuckles, gently and cautiously. you freeze up, holding your breath and staring at him. his other hand holds you in place, keeping you close to him.

he peers at you from his seat, a certain glint in his eyes. “thank you, y/n.” he mumbles against your hand.

you hold your hand close to your chest as he releases you. “what’s going on today, ivan? you’re more touchy than usual.”

“is that bad?” he asks, tilting his head.

“no, it’s not bad.” you explain, taking your brushes and putting them in the box. you could feel your face flushing, you couldn’t turn back to him. you knew he would be wearing that clueless smile. and you would be stammering for your words. “so, um… is this the only thing you’re filming today?”

“yes.” he replies, watching as you carefully put everything away. even in the mirror, you don’t look at him. “are you busy for the rest of the day?”

“no, actually. i’m heading back after this.” you say, grabbing your jacket and tugging it on. after taking a breath in, you turn to him. “i’ll tell them you’re ready.”

ivan stands up, running fingers through his hair before stepping closer to you, his hands finding your jaw. you freeze up, shivering under his touch. your lower back hits the desk, making you lay hands on the wood. he makes you feel like you’re going crazy.

“you’re gorgeous, you know.” he mumbles out, staring at you with piercing eyes.

“uh, thank you, ivan, i—hmph!”

he captures your lips in a single moment, holding onto your shoulder gently. your hands find his face again, caressing him as you slowly melt into him. your eyes flutter shut as his do, feeling overwhelmed with such warmth that you find yourself chasing after him when he pulls away.

ivan chuckles, leaning forward once more to peck you on the lips again. you open your eyes, stunned. “why did you—”

“i should go now, it’ll be starting in five minutes.” he says, checking the clock. ivan leans away, gathering himself and fixing his hair in the mirror behind you before moving to the door. he stops with his hand on the doorframe as it slides open. “i’ll see you after, okay?”

you nod your head slowly, gulping down your nerves.

“good.” he smiles, walking out of the room, “see you, y/n.”

↣ luka

“good job, luka.” you compliment him, waiting in the wings for him to come off stage. he pants, wiping sweat off his brow. you smile, holding pit a towel. “ready for makeup? full dress rehearsal today.”

“right.” he huffs out, patting his face dry. he follows you to his dressing room, feeling a little tired. “what have you been up to?”

“waiting for you.” you respond, opening the door and closing it behind him. he sighs, tiredly sitting in the makeup chair by the mirror. you blink at his state, walking over and placing a hand on his cheek. he stirs. “oh, luka… how much sleep did you get last night?”

“not much.” he groans, rubbing his eyes. you furrow your brows, retracting your hand. “it’s fine. let’s start.”

you blink at him before nodding, beginning your work. luka was probably the best one of your clients when it came to makeup, he cared a lot about his appearance, and he appreciated your work. the only difference with now is that he isn’t giving you some snarky remark or flirting with you through his eyes. he was genuinely sleepy.

“lift your head up higher, luka.” you say, taking the brush away from his face. he only hums out to you, eyes still closed. “luka.”

sighing, you step closer to him, taking his face in your hand and holding his chin up higher. he doesn’t make a sound, only leaning into your palm. “you seriously need to take a nap.”

“mhm.” he says, placing his hands on the back of your knees gently. you squirm in your spot, making him peer open an eye. “i have practice though.”

“it’s a shame.” you sigh, brushing your thumb against his cheek, “you look so pretty when you’re sleeping.”

“creep.” he mutter out.

you roll your eyes, moving the brush tip around his eyelids. he stills for a moment. “i think i overheard one of the producers saying you were losing your voice and that you’re on vocal rest.” you claim, “so shouldn’t you be keeping quiet?”

he nods his head at that after you pull away, his thumbs drawing on the sides of your legs. his blue fingers dance along your pants, listening to you move around. you were delicate with him, no matter how much trouble he caused you. the first time you did his makeup, he complained that he didn’t like it and refused to perform.

but now, he was astounded by how you carefully pat your thumb against his temple, as if soothing him.

“you’re much more bearable when you’re quiet.” you sigh, “it’s such a shame that you’ve got such a pretty voice, and you use it to be annoying.”

he furrows his brows, lifting his head away from you. his eyes open to see your smile. luka rolls his eyes at you, running fingers through his hair. you turn away to grab something from your bag, popping open the bottle and getting ready to use it.

“since you can’t talk, i’ll let you know that i was at mizi’s practice yesterday.” you explain, being careful not to smudge your work as it dries. luka lets out a small sigh. “she was telling me about how she misses homemade food. i told her that she and sua should come over to mine and i’ll make something for them.”

he peeps open an eye again, giving you a look. you raise a brow and sigh, “you said my cooking was good.”

you lift your finger from his cheek, applying the most palest pink you have on him by a loose brush. his skin was so smooth, making your job a lot easier since it wouldn’t take much to make him look presentable.

“it is.” he mumbles out, suddenly moving his arms to lay atop your hips. you sigh through your nose, annoyed at how he ignores his orders to keep quiet. “why’re you cooking for them? they don’t know how to?”

“i didn’t say that, luka.” you huff, pushing his hair off his forehead, “i actually heard from till that mizi is a great cook.”

“that boy only ever sings praises about her.” luka rolls his eyes. you chuckle, knowing he was right. the blonde hugged you closer to himself, cheek squished against your stomach. “what has she ever done to deserve it?”

“don’t be mean. so jealous, luka.” you say to him, smiling softly. he peers up at you before tilting his head.

“me? jealous of her?” he scoffs at you, shaking his head and pulling himself off of you. you were done anyway, now beginning to pack up you belongings. “that’s outrageous of you to say, y/n.”

“seems like it though.” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. when you turn back around to him, luka looks upset. he crosses his arms, pout playing on his lips as he stared at the ground. you sigh, patting his shoulder, “it’s fine, you’re still the world’s favourite human singer.”

“yeah.” he huffs out, barely audible.

you furrow your brows, leaning over and placing a plan on his shoulder. “look, you’re a great singer and you’re handsome. what more could you ask for?”

he mumbles, looking back at you, “do you like me?”

“of course i do.” you reply, scanning his face. he only gives you an unconvinced look. you roll your eyes.

leaning forward to him, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. he stills for a quick second, but soon enough you feel him melt against you. his palm rests against your cheek, pulling you closer. he feels warm when you hold yourself away just enough to kiss him.

his hair has always felt silky smooth. it brushes against your forehead, kissing your skin. his whole body felt like it was pouring itself into you. he wanted to belong.

you pull away before you ruin anymore of his makeup, blinking your eyes a few times at his dazed expression. “i like you, luka.” you say sternly, looking him dead in the eye, “i’m not lying. promise.”

luka thinks to himself for a moment before sighing and standing up. he looks back at you with the tiniest smile. “thanks, y/n.”

“good. now, let’s go. i’ll watch your rehearsals.” you say, patting his back as you walk him to the door. you fix his sleeves, smoothing out the creases.

“good luck, luka.” you chime, standing on the sidelines.

he stares at you for a moment before replying, “thank you.”

[ellecdc]

I HAD AN IDEA FOR A REQ BUT I FORGOT IT AND I JUST REMEMBERED AGAIN

okok so shy!reader (similar to r in the poly!marauders + lily fic that i am genuinely obsessedddd with) but with barty and she just gets so flustered and blushy when he’s so loud and outspoken about his affection for her

barty would absolutely accidentally (& lovingly) torment poor shy!reader. thanks for your request! (I'm obviously currently in my Barty-girl era - I deserve jail time ur honour)

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who tries hiding from Barty, much to Remus' chagrin

There were very few places in the castle that Remus could escape to from his nettlesome roommates. Thankfully, his roommates would rather be trampled by a stampede of hippogriffs than spend their precious free time in the library of all places. Unfortunately, Remus was still too easily spotted in his current hideout.

“Rem! Hide me!” He heard you squeak as you came flying around one of the stacks of books; eyes wild like a prey animal looking for their last chance at survival. 

“What?” Remus asked dumbly, but it was no use. 

You let out a cartoonish ‘eep!’ sound and dove underneath the table Remus was currently sat at; your head basically situated in Remus’ lap as you looked up at him desperately. 

“Please.” You practically begged. “You never saw me!”

“Who’s looking for you?” 

Remus' question was answered in the form of a haunting whistling weaving its way casually through the aisles and aisles of books before pausing directly in front of Remus’ chair.

“‘Lo, Junior.” Remus greeted politely, causing the Slytherin boy to narrow his eyes at him.

“Lupin.” He drawled suspiciously. “Aren’t there usually…more of you?”

Remus grimaced as he felt your nervous claws dig painfully into his calf. “Nope.” He replied an octave too high to be considered casual. “Just me.”

Barty simply offered him a disbelieving hum. 

“So, Lupin,” Barty continued, chewing the vowels of Remus’ surname as if it tasted particularly rancid in his mouth. “See anything around here lately?”

Remus hummed as if pretending he was in thought. “No…nope, definitely haven’t seen anyo- anything.”

But it was too late.

“Haven’t seen anyone, hm?” Barty surmised with a wicked grin. “Not even…say…a certain witch who happens to be the object of my affections?”

You dejectedly thumped your forehead against Remus’ knee, hitting the nerve which caused his leg to kick out reflexively, thus pushing you over under the table.

“Merlin’s tits, Lupin, are you having a fit?”

“Oh my sodding Godric.” You finally grumbled from under the table, causing Barty’s face to brighten up astronomically. 

It took you far longer than Remus would have liked to be sitting in the awkward semi-company with Barty to extricate yourself from under the library table, and your efforts were accompanied by an awful lot of painful sounding bumps and cursing before your - albeit rather bedraggled - form materialized beside Remus. 

“There’s my girl.” Barty nearly sighed in relief; a dopey lovesick smile spreading across his face.

“Do you see it too?” You whispered to Remus conspiratorially.

“See what?”

“That look.” You whispered again, causing Remus to snort.

“The look of adoration currently decorating Junior’s face? Yeah, I see it.” 

You scoffed at him. “Barty doesn’t adore me.”

“Says who!?” Barty nearly screeched, causing Remus to look around nervously at the attention the trio was quickly gathering. “I’ll kill them.”

“What?”

“Can I be excused from this conversation?” Remus groaned as he returned to his seat.

Barty quickly agreed at the same moment that you hissed no!

“Listen - my darling angel - though I think you’re really great at just about everything you do, you are absolute pants at hiding.” Barty offered you solemnly as if he were gently giving you quite devastating news.

“Maybe you’re just too good at this finding thing.” You huffed as you crossed your arms; quite petulantly, in Remus’ opinion.

“At finding you?” Barty asked as his face broke out in a Cheshire cat grin. “Always.”

Remus was certain you were going to melt through the floor below you, and - quite frankly - if it got you two away from Remus’ library sanctuary, so be it.

[luveline]

I love bombshell reader. Would she ever get jealous?

Your eye is most definitely twitching. The pull and cinch of your lashes and the delicate skin of your eyelid distracts you mildly from the sight in front of you, but not for long. 

You rub at your eye with a perfectly filed nail, smudging intricate makeup all over the place. You remember your mascara only after you've mussed it and groan in annoyance. "Fucking fuck," you murmur, slipping a hand into your jacket pocket. 

"You okay?" Emily asks. 

Using your phone screen as a substandard mirror, you clean up the smudge you'd made of your make up with your pinky finger carefully. "I'm great," you say breezily. 

"You sure? You sound stressed." 

"She's jealous," Morgan says. Smugness lines his face and the otherwise handsome set of his mouth. 

You roll your eyes at him, to his bemusement, and sit back in your cold, leather-backed chair. "Sure, Morgan, I'm very jealous. Of what?" 

"Of our baby boy's new friend, obviously," he says. 

You don't give him the satisfaction of looking back at Spencer where he stands at the bar, nor do you let the practised smile you're wearing falter. Your guts an aching wound and your skin flushed with heat, you reach for the cherry coasting along the surface of your drink and pull it out by the stem, twisting it between your fingers. Unbothered on the outside, and an insecure, hurt mess on the inside. 

It really looked like Spencer was flirting with her. 

You chew your cherry for much longer than you need to for want of something to do, hot tears begging to well behind your eyes. Spencer isn't your boyfriend, you've held hands a couple times and that's that. He's allowed to want someone else. Someone prettier, smaller, she'd had a head of perfect braids and a dewy, do eyed smile. Cherry swallowed, you knock back your drink. 

"Sorry," Spencer starts, sliding into the booth next to you with another cherry sour for you and what looks like an ice cold glass of coke for himself.

You hadn't asked him for a drink and he hadn't mentioned getting you one. For a moment, the ugly weight of envy lifts from your shoulders. "Oh, thank you." 

"I just met this girl at the bar and she had something very interesting to ask me," Spencer says. 

You don't want to hear it. Morgan absolutely does, and with Emily to encourage him, they're happy happy torture you both. "Why's Penelope taking so long?" you ask, trying to change the subject too late. 

"What did she want, loverboy?" Morgan asks.

"Did you think she was pretty?" Spencer asks you.

Mortified, you stare at him. Plainly hurt, to his surprise, you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. "Why would you ask me that?" 

"Because she wants to ask you out?" Spencer's knee bumps yours. "She thinks you're, quote, intimidatingly pretty." 

Emily and Morgan laugh together gleefully. You're glad this is entertaining for them, but mostly you're relieved. You pick up your drink and take a sip, looking over Spencer's shoulder into the bar for the girl he'd been speaking with. She smiles shyly. 

"I'm assuming this is from her?" 

"What? No, that's from me." 

Your gaze flickers back to him. "Really?" 

"That's my boy," Morgan jokes, swinging his arm behind Emily's seat. She laughs approvingly. 

Firmly back on stable footing, you give Spencer your stickiest grin, looking over his pretty face greedily. He's looking at your drinks rather than you but his torso is turned your way, the backs of his fingers brushing your stocking clad thigh. "Maybe I should go let her down gently?" you murmur, shifting in your seat to turn his way too, flirting with the idea of touching his cheek. 

"You might not need to," he says. 

"How come?" you ask. 

"Well, I… I sort of implied you were taken. You know. With the drink. And I also might've said you weren't interested." 

"Yeah?" You put your hand on his shoulder, tracing a whisper of a path up the slope of it to the base of his throat. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not." 

Emily shakes the small bowl of roasted peanuts, a deviousness about her as she says, "Good for all of us. I've never seen Y/N that jealous before. For once, I thought we'd have to protect her from you." 

You could kill her. Flustered, you tilt your head to one side and look out over nothing, mumbling, "I wouldn't say I was that jealous." 

"No?" Spencer asks. "I can go tell her you've changed your mind." 

"Don't push your luck, Reid." 

[teddybeartoji]

neighbor!toji finds you sitting in front of your apartment door late at night as he's coming home and at first, he's really not planning on saying anything. he still doesn't know you, he hasn't talked to you – the most you've gotten is a look and a nod whenever you happen to take the elevator with him or when you just bump into him on your way out. and he really isn't the type to make small talk but with your knees pulled to your chest and your head rested on top of your hands, you look miserable and toji finds it very hard to ignore you.

he keeps stealing glances at your curled up figure as he searches for the keys in his pocket and it's only when he's got the door open, he swallows the weird lump in his throat.

"y'wanna come inside?" his voice is raspy, tired, but it does the job of luring you out of your little bubble.

there's a moment of silence.

toji isn't stupid, he knows the dangers of the world and it doesn't take him long to realize how strange his offer might sound. his eye twitches out of sheer embarrassment as he averts his gaze, rough fingers fidgeting with the keys in his hand.

"that would be really nice actually, yeah."

there's no suspicion in your tone, nothing that would indicate that you're thinking what he's thinking. toji's mossy green eyes meet yours and he's met with a look he knows all too well.

exhausted.

"just so i can charge my phone?" you're already trying to apologize for yourself. to tell him that you'll only stay for as long as you need, afraid that you're bothering him.

but he just gives you a hum, patiently waiting for you to push yourself off the ground. for a moment, you stand next to him in front of the door, waiting for him to step inside first but when he gestures to go in before him, you don't argue with him. your hushed 'thank you' doesn't go unheard.

his apartment is tidy. probably even more so than your own. it looks surprisingly cozy – the light isn't a big, bright one but a dimmed down one instead and the sight of his big couch makes you let out a soft sigh. from the corner of his eye, toji observes you. he hasn't had anybody over in a long time and now here you are.

he tells you to take off your shoes and to take a seat while he goes to look for a charger, giving you the perfect opportunity to take a better look around the place – dvd's, old magazines and newspapers, a few movie posters and one singular plant. it's not a lot but it still feels like a good home.

at the sound of his voice, you snap out of your thoughts. your fingers brush against one another as you take the charger from him with another 'thank you'. a

"you're not going to kill me or anything though, right?"

...

for a man his size and his age, he feels a bit small under your gaze. you're blunt more than anything and he's just a little caught off-guard by your question.

"no."

"that's good."

you break the eye-contact to look for a place to plug in the charger and he feels relieved. "you feel safe."

you say it like it's nothing.

"i wouldn't've accepted the offer from anyone else, i think. well, maybe from the lady across the hall but then again, she'd just scold me for being up so late and i'm way too tired for that."

the words slip from your lips as if they're light as air while toji needs a second to really hear you, to know that he isn't making you uncomfortable. that in your eyes, he isn't scary or threatening in any shape or form. perhaps you're just naive for putting your trust into a stranger like this but toji still can't help but feel a little warm inside.

he doesn't say anything and you don't mind his silence. you do thank him a third time and let your lips curl into a proper smile when he almost unintentionally raises his brow at you – like it's weird that you're doing that.

he ends up bringing you a glass of water before joining you on the couch, both of your eyes set on the tv screen and the show that plays on it as you eakt for your phone to come alive again.

it doesn't feel wrong to just be with him like this.

it's right enough for you to let your exhaustion sneak up on you. your eyelids grow heavy without you even realizing it and then you're already dozing off on your neighbor's couch.

your quiet snores are so unfamiliar, the mere idea of somebody being able to fall asleep in his presence so surreal that he's left sitting there dumbfoundedly. regardless, he reaches for a blanket before throwing it over your body ever so carefully and turns down the volume of the tv as to not disturb you.

a stranger, a neighbor. somebody, who makes him feel a bit more alive. a silly comment, a blunt reply. a smile and a thank you.

a push to keep on going.

[cheriladycl01]

Walls are for the Weak - Oscar Piastri x Reader SMUT

Plot: After a particularly challenging race, Oscar meets you in his driver room

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex (in drivers room) 18+ Minors DNI

You watched as Oscars race just kept getting worse and worse. He started P3, but after a failed start, a slow bit stop and a bump with Sainz he was down in P16 towards the end of the race trying to scramble his way back up into the points before the end of the race.

But he ended up in P13, not getting close enough to the points and feeling really shitty as Lando had a P2. Of course he was happy for Lando, but he couldn’t help but feel a little hard done by. Everything that happened felt like it could have been avoided but it just seemed the day was out to get him.

It may as well have been Friday the 13th.

You knew he would go straight to the team briefing after the race and you weren’t allowed there due to all the statistics and data being thrown around so you decided to start to clean up his drivers room.

Oscar was an incredibly messy boyfriend, even around you shared apartment, it wasn’t that you actually minded either because you enjoyed cleaning up with a audio books, a podcast or music playing as you did so.

You started to pick up his clothes that were on the floor and coming out of his duffle bag where he’d been rummaging through it earlier looking for a fresh team top. Then you started to remove the cans of coke and water that were around the room from when he and Lando were preparing together for media duties.

After half an hour it was fully cleaned and ready for McLaren to take apart at the end of the weekend.

You remained on the sofa, laying down on your stomach, legs swinging in the air as you watched TikTok’s on your phone. You waited for what seemed like forever for Oscar to make an appearance, it had been so long that edits from the race had already started to make their way onto your fyp. A lot of Olivia Rodrigo.

The drivers worked hard, but the editors seemed to have unlimited time and resources to get edits out only 45 minutes after the chequered flag was waved, ending the race.

“Come on, we’re leaving” Oscar says bluntly making you turn to look at him.

“Oh, hi hello” you say sarcastically looking up at him.

“Not now Y/N I’m not in the mood” he huffs out grabbing his bag before looking around the room in shock.

“Did you clean?” He asks, still void of any emotions that were letting you in on what he was feeling. It was obvious he was frustrated but there was something else.

“I always clean up the drivers room Oscar” you sigh, knowing most of the time you met him with his bag outside.

“That’s what we hire cleaners for” he says looking down at you as you start to push yourself up so you could see him without straining your neck.

“Mmmmmm the money and fame finally got to that head of yours baby?” You ask knowing he’s only now saying this because he’s moody.

“Y/N will you just shut up!” He says, face like thunder which makes you fully sit up looking over him.

“Oh I just know you aren’t talking to ME that way Oscar Jack Piastri” you say with a frown wondering why he has to be such a massive dickhead.

He comes up to you, his pointer finger and thumb grabbing your chin in between and pulling your face towards him as he crouches down in front of you.

“Now listen here. I’ve had a shit race and you know I have because you watched it and for some reason you’re doing everything possible to get on my last nerve right now. So you my beautiful girlfriend are going to help me out” he says with a gritted sort of expression and a small smiles appears between your slowly squishing cheeks from his rough grip.

“And how am I able to help?” You ask.

“You are going to be quiet and suck my dick, right here right now before we leave” he says taking a seat on the sofa next to you. You’re quick to get on your knees in front of him. This is the first time that you notice the straining in his pants.

“You think its funny you laying there face down ass up in that skirt when I come into the room already frustrated and annoyed. You’ve just made me a whole different kind of frustrated” he says as he grabs your hand pulling it closer to the bulge in his trousers.

A soft groan comes from him as you start to palm him, feeling around and starting to get him a little more worked up before you soon pull down his trousers and pants with the help of him raising his hips closer to your face to help you get them off.

His dick slaps up, already fully hard, hitting his team top that now had a small trail of pre-cum dampening it.

“Awwww baby, why didn’t you tell me sooner” you tease, giving him a quick rub up and down, a soft moan coming from the back of his throat as his head is thrown back.

“Fuck baby, get that mouth around me” he says resting his arm up behind his head that’s still leaning backwards. You raise up on your knees, licking a strip along the underside all the way up before going over the tip that had his hips thrusting up.

“Patience baby” you complain looking up at him.

“Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough Y/N! Come on” he says holding onto your hair to help guid you down. You kitten lick the tip before opening your mouth up your lips encasing around him. You bob your head up and down with the help of Oscars hand in your hair.

“That’s so good Y/N, please” he begs with a whine, his earlier moody and broody persona completely gone.

Your hands reach forward to steady you on the edge of the sofa as Oscar’s hips begin to have a mind of their own and start to thrust up trying to get as deep as possible in your mouth.

“Im close baby, so close” he says and his moans get louder. You pull of his with a popping sound, a string of your saliva mixed with his pre-cum still attaching you together.

“Why’d you stop baby, I was so close” he complains looking at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“Because your being too loud Osc and people are still here packing away” you smile getting up. You straddle him putting pressure on his dick against your lacy panties giving him some relief.

His hand comes down to your waist going under your skirt and playing with the edge of your underwear.

“Can you pull them to the side?” You whisper in his ear. And he immediately groans. He pulls them to the side making sure it wasn’t digging into you. You place a gentle hand over his mouth, before your other hand comes down to help guide him in.

You sink down immediately bottoming out and it’s a good thing you had your hand over his mouth muffling the sounds that were currently coming from the back of his throat.

You started to lightly bounce up and down until you needed the support of both your hands on the back of the sofa to help you move quicker.

“Think you can keep quieter for me baby?” You ask and he nods quicker than you’d ever seen him agree to something in his life.

His hands come down to your waist as you start bouncing quicker with more passion. You’re starting to find it hard to keep your own moans to yourself as his name starts to fall from between your lips as his hands come to your hips to help guide you up and down. He buries his head in your neck kissing along the side.

“Walls are for the weak anyway baby, let them hear just how frustrated I was and how good your making me feel” he moans loudly as his hips start to meet your bounces going at a faster pace and his hands had a bruising grip on the day or your thighs.

“Baby, shut up” you gasp cheeks flushing read at the thought of Lando hearing when he’s next door or Mark coming round to talk him down after today! You’d be mortified. But his dick pushing against your tight walls was the only thing on your mind.

You hug against him as you clench around and he stops thrusting inside of you. All tensions from both your bodies leaves and sighs come from the pair of you. You go weightless against him letting him keep kissing your neck as you both come down from your high.

“Feeling better now?” You ask and all he does it nod, before pulling you back by your hair and kissing your lips.

“You always make me feel better. I love you” he smiles genuinely.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[unlosts]

Two Pair.

Summary: After a rough case Spencer keeps you company while the rest of the BAU sleeps.

A/N: I posted and then deleted this right away, but here it is again. I'm working on a couple of longer one shots but I still wanted to get something shorter out.

“Okay, whatcha got?” You ask, eyes narrowed taking in the lanky 6’ something man sitting across from you, his expression unreadable.

“I have a two pair” He says, sounding resigned, probably already well aware that he’s about to lose.

For the second time in a row. 

“Ha! A straight flush! Read em’ and weep doc” You said smugly, and perhaps a tad too loudly since what comes next is a loud shushing noise from the lump in the couch formerly known as Derek Morgan. 

“Sorry” You whisper back. It’s around 2am and most of the team is sound asleep, even Hotch who’s usually the last one out, the only ones still awake were you; whose adrenaline was still pumping strong after a car chase resulting in a very near miss, and a very much dead suspect. It had left you jittery and off balance, the sensation of failure hanging heavy on your shoulders and leaving you unable to close your eyes for even a few minutes, much less sleep. 

Spencer seemed to be in a similar state even though he had been left at the station, working on the geographical profile when you headed out. 

So three rounds and two winning hands later here you sat, no closer to sleep than before but his company was soothing.

Spencer operated on a set of carefully crafted routines, from his mornings in the bullpen at the BAU (One coffee with at least four suggars, eight crossword puzzles and at the very least a couple of newspapers before he could start on the seemingly never ending pile of case files haunting his desk), to the post case decompression routine (A chess match against himself or a poker game, usually against you). 

You found it soothing to watch, the expected repetition letting you know that you could relax, that everything was over with. 

So here you sat, in the back of the plane with only Spence’s long legs crammed in the smaller seat in front of you, knees bumping yours every time you so much as breathed.

His book light was the only thing illuminating your poker game and the harsh shadows cast over the table did make it harder to distinguish the numbers (the fact that you were refusing to use your glasses didn’t help either). 

A small stack of peanuts sits between you both, acting as poker chips. 

Despite your clear gloating Spencer just smiles at you, seemingly equally pleased, and keeping his losing hand close to his chest. 

“So, feeling any better?” He asks while shuffling the deck. You go towards the kitchen, softly squeezing Spencer's shoulder in gratitude as you pass by him. The tense wiry muscle underneath his soft purple shirt gives in to your touch and you linger for a second, giving him a small smile before you go. 

“Much, in fact i’m going to get a cup of tea and hopefully doze off for a couple of hours” You reply from the kitchen. 

“Remind me again of the chances of winning twice in a row?” Chimes in Derek unexpectedly from the couch, his eyes are still closed and even though you can’t see him he’s sporting a knowing smirk. 

“Um well it’s about 4% actually” Answers Spencer awkwardly, giving the kitchen a furtive look to make sure you’re not really paying attention to the conversation. 

“Huh, guess I must have gotten pretty lucky then” You say, too busy making your tea to hear Derek's response to Spencer, quiet but still teasing exclamation of “My man”

But when you did return to your seat right next to him you couldn’t help but notice that his cheeks were a tad pinker than they had been before. 

[unrefinedmusings]

sweet, sweet sugar

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: meeting a man in a bar and trying to determine what about him is so damn alluring. it doesn't really matter though, it ends well for the both of you. part 2: snooze

warnings: smut, explicit sex, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) riding, truck sex, nasty talk, MDNI, 18+

a/n: i love him, your honor. i will protect this tired dilf with my life. might expand on this, if so it'll be fluffy/smutty (no angst because the show is already enough pain for me)

---

It was his voice, you think. You had just relocated to Texas and were new enough to be drawn in by that deep Southern accent when he introduced himself.

Hi, uh, I’m Joel. Mind if I buy ya’ a drink?

Maybe it was the age difference. It wouldn’t be a first for you and the few strands of gray in his hair did make you a little weak in the knees.

It could’ve been his arms. Bumping against the hard muscles of his bicep as the bar stools you two were sitting on inevitably wobbled while you talked. Placing a light touch on his forearm when the liquid courage of your second drink kicked in, before your fingers made their way to his indecently thick ones to intertwine. Just the rough touch of his hands was enough to make you shiver.

His eyes were definitely a factor. Puppy brown orbs that sparkled brighter than starlight when he laughed, even under the dim lights of the bar. How they grew dark, almost black, when you leaned in close enough for him to catch a whiff of your perfume, the faintest hint of sweet vanilla lingering in the space between you two.

Or maybe it was just him. All of him. The way he hummed along to the country western songs playing through the bar’s speakers. The way he spoke to you with affection in his voice despite his gruff exterior. The way he talked about his Sarah: the pride while mentioning an A plus social studies paper followed by the anxiety while asking if he was talking about her too often. 

As if loving his daughter too much could scare you away. 

His scruffy beard and charm, his bad humor, his dad humor, his smile.

And the way he called you sugar, like that’s what you were to him. Nothing but sweetness and all too appetizing. Like he’d drink you up with his coffee every morning if you let him.

Your wandering hand made its way down to his thigh, resting just above his knee. He paused mid sentence and for a moment you worried you were being too forward. Your eyes meet his in a heated stare.

“You tryna’ misbehave there, sugar?”

You were and it landed you in Joel’s backseat, laid down with his body pinning yours. He’s kissing you. He’s still kissing you, hasn’t stopped since he pressed you up against his truck in the dark and nearly empty parking lot. He’s on your lips, until you have to pull away for air when he moves down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking along the way.

Your legs part for him, wrapping around his hips to dig your heels into the backs of his firm thighs. His hands find their way under your shirt, calloused fingertips forming gooseflesh across your skin before pulling the material up and over your head. He palms your heaving breasts, letting out a low groan at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands, before working his hands around to the clasp. Any restraint he might have had was tossed into the front seat with your bra.

Now he’s desperate, he’s hungry. 

His mouth is on you, all over. His tongue licking at the marks he left on your neck and chest, his teeth making more down your torso. Lips wrap around your nipple and you arch into his suckling, letting him consume even more of you. Every one of his filthy, reverent kisses is more fuel for the fire growing in you. You tug on his dark locks when he reaches the top of your skirt, running his tongue along the line where fabric meets skin.

“J-Joel, please,” you beg, surprising yourself at how wrecked you sound already.

“I wanna taste ya’, sweet thing,” he teases, looking up at you with mischief in his eyes.

Moving his head down between your legs, Joel places sloppy kisses up the inside of your thighs. You watch him with heavy eyes, shuddering as the coarse hair of his beard grazes your sensitive skin. He brings his face to the crotch of your panties, nose nudging your clit, before taking a deep inhale. He licks at you through the soft lace before pulling it off entirely. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he rasps, the heat of his breath against your cunt enough to make your hips buck. Unbothered by your writhing, Joel wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him before licking a stripe through your slick folds. 

He groans at the taste of you. “Such a sweet pussy, so goddamn wet for me too.”

He dives in, circling your clit with his tongue before plunging inside you. Your thighs try to shut at the sensations, but his hands tighten their grip to hold you in place. You’re melting into his mouth and onto the seats, the fogged up windows an indicator of just how hot everything is right now. 

Then his thick fingers are inside you, thrusting deep and hitting that spot you always have trouble reaching dead on. His mouth wraps around your clit, sucking on it like hard candy.

“Gon’ get a cavity from all this sugar,” he mumbles into your pussy, and the rumble of his laugh vibrates through you.

He thinks he’s so goddamn funny…

“Oh fuck,” you cry out.

It hits you like a rocket. He curls his fingers just right and you’re seeing stars, being pulled up and away into the atmosphere. He doesn’t stop drinking you in until you’ve floated back down to Earth. 

Insatiable.

Your eyes are closed, but you feel his soft lips kissing your neck. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “Did so good for me, such a good girl.”

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.

It’s like a trigger. All the satisfaction from your climax faded and was replaced by a deep need to be full of him, to take him in and again until you fell into the night sky together.

“Fuck me p-please, please Joel, I need it,” you whine, hands clinging to his broad shoulders.

“Oh sugar,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”

Joel uses one hand to pull you into his lap and straddle his thighs, while the other unbuckles his belt. You scramble to undo his zipper, tug his pants and boxers down, and unveil his—

Oh fuck.

Whatever it was before, it’s definitely his huge dick now. You let out a whine when your fingers wrap around the base without being able to fully encircle it. He rolls a condom down over himself before gripping your hips and guiding you to hover over the flushed red tip. Your forehead is pressed against his as you sink down, gasping at the stretch.

“Good girl, that’s it. It’s big, ain’t it?”

You huff against his cheek, “S’ big.”

“You can take it. Gonna take all of my cock, sugar.”

You do. Your toes curl and you feel like he’s splitting you open, but you take all of him. He rubs circles on your clit, making you gush around him and relax enough to move. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you start rocking your hips and slowly finding a rhythm. Every thrust is electric and the sweet sounds of how wet you are fill the car.

You’re clamped around him, raising and falling harder, faster. Whimpers spilling out of your lips as Joel thrusts into you, meeting your hips with his. You were close, your climax was racing towards you when his thumb found your clit again. Just a few touches to the bundle of nerves and you were toppling over the edge, head thrown back then falling limp into his neck. You shake in his arms as he continues to fuck you in his lap, quickly reaching his own release.

“Fuckin’ goddamnit, sugar,” he pants into your ear as he finishes. 

He keeps you like that, strong arms holding your body close against his as you both catch your breath. You have no objections, nuzzling further into him and gently carding your fingers through his hair. It’s been a few minutes before he breaks the silence.

“Sugar?”

You hum and smile into his skin as a response.

“Could I get your number and, uh, maybe we do this again? Dinner too?”

He had the audacity to sound bashful while his cock was still inside you. You look up to see a pink tint to his cheeks, and you have to answer with a kiss. Slow and sweet.

---

💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕

[woso-dreamzzz]

Bike

Magdalena Eriksson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first riding lesson with Magda

After that day on the ice with Sam and the others, Magda decides that if anyone is going to teach you to ride a bike, it's going to be her.

The first thing she does is make sure the stabilisers are attached properly, sitting down in the middle of the park with a screwdriver to make sure they're secure.

Then, she tightens your elbow and knee pads.

Next, she makes sure your helmet fits you properly.

Then and only then, are you allowed on your bike.

"I know how to ride, Morsa," You tell her as she shows you where the peddles are," Sam and Erin and Guro and Millie taught me."

Magda scoffs. "They didn't teach you. They took advantage of a hill. Riding a bike is all about power in your legs."

You rolls your eyes. "This is boring."

"I'm trying to teach you here!"

You move your handlebars, a disgruntled look on your face as Magda waffles on about random things that you don't really care about.

It's quite early in the morning, on a random day off where you'd rather crawl into the Big Bed and have cuddles with Momma. You think Momma must miss your cuddles because she was still asleep when Morsa got you up and out of the house.

It wasn't a long walk to the park but Morsa didn't say anything until you got there.

"Can I got yet?"

Magda sighs, breaking off mid sentence. "Yeah, alright. Let me give you a little push."

She holds the back of your bike, lightly pushing you so you can start pedalling.

You've got a lot of power in your little legs, despite having only been out on your bike once before and Magda still holds it, if only to give herself some peace of mind.

"Morsa! I'm doing it!"

"Yes, you are!"

Magda doesn't really want to let go but she can remember being a bit older than you, at her own local park in Sweden. Her father had taught her to ride.

It was an old bike, bought second-hand at a car boot sale. The chain was half broken and the pedals stuck a bit but Magda had loved that bike.

Her father had taught her, standing behind her and giving a little push. He held her bike for a bit before finally letting her go.

At the time, the lack of stabilisers hadn't bothered Magda. It had made her feel grown up but, now, as a parent herself, she can't imagine your bike not having stabilisers.

She also can't believe that her father had ever let her go.

Especially now as she rocks your body as you sob.

The first little crash had been expected, your front wheel getting caught on a bump in the road. Magda had managed to grab you by the back of the shirt before you went head over handlebars.

If anything, you thought that crash was a little funny, consumed by a round of giggles as Magda tried to calm her beating heart.

The second crash was bigger, where you'd gotten too much speed and you went through that same pit in the path and gone skittering across the path.

It was a mistake, in hindsight, to let you go out riding in your Sweden shorts because the impact of your slide has horrifically grazed your leg like some horrific version of road rash.

"Morsa, my leg!" You sob and Magda adjusts you.

There's no chance of you walking right now so Magda switches you onto her back, letting you link your hands together around her neck. Magda wheels your bike back home.

"It's okay," She says," It's alright. We're nearly home. We'll clean it off and get you some plasters."

"My bike's mean," You tell her," Don't let go next time, Morsa."

"You still want to practice?"

"Yes, Morsa," You say and Magda can imagine the eye roll going on behind her back," Because I have to learn at some point and Momma will get annoyed with having me on the back of hers forever."

Whenever you, Magda and Pernille go out for a bike ride, you get put into a little seat that's attached to the end of Pernille's. It's fun but what you really want is to be on your own bike next to them.

You sniffle though, a flare of pain going down your leg as Morsa moves.

Magda places you on the sofa as soon as you get home, grabbing the first aid kit so she can clean off your graze.

"We will wait though, right?" You ask, wincing as Magda wipes off all the dirt," Until I'm better?"

"Of course," Magda says," I think we should stay at home for a bit and we can remember where the brakes are."

You purse your lips. "I know where the brakes are, Morsa."

Magda smiles at you. "Do you? Because you really should learn to use them."

You stick your tongue out at her. "I'm telling Momma you're teasing me again!"

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ age gap with nanami 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 5: my daddy!!!

✯⁠ nanami kento x reader

✯⁠ warnings: brief dubcon, crying, spanking, doggy, rough sex, p in v

"Are you there, Mr. Kento?" you yell from the door, entering it without even waiting for a response. He sits there at his desk, clearly not paying attention to you. he turns his head when he sees you walk in.

"What's up, y/n ?" he asks as he turns his chair around to face you. Your cheeks turn red, and you say in the most innocent voice ever, "I've been craving you, Kento."

Nanami looks at you confused, he knows what college girls think about and stuff they do, but he never expected it from you. You walk up to him, throwing yourself on his lap.

"What are you doing, y/n ?" he asks you with a panicked voice, trying to push you off him. You stay seated in his lap, running your hands through his hair.

"I know you want it, Kento," you whisper in his ear, licking at his neck. he moans at the touch of your tongue, his head falling back. You can see how hard he tries to resist your touch, but he fails miserably.

"Y/n, if you don't stop right now. I'm gonna call the cops," he warns you, and the look he gives you makes you even wetter. He's so cute when he's trying to be intimidating. You climb off his lap, chuckling at yourself when he stays seated. You swing your hips in front of him, unbuttoning the oversized shirt you're wearing. You let it fall to the ground, revealing that you're not wearing anything underneath. His pupils widen at the sight in front of him. It's been so time since he had a naked woman next to him, let alone as beautiful as you. You bend over in front of him, and he has to invert his eyes, his pants getting too tight for his liking. He wants to call himself a coward for not backing out, but he can't move. The thing you said is true, he wants you.

"Do you like what you see?" you ask, and he finally looks at you. Nanami moans just at the sight. You're on the ground before him, ass in the air. Your talented fingers play with the wetness while you smirk at him. You're a slut, that's all you are. A dirty slut who wants to get fucked by an older man, more specifically, her best friend's father.

"oh Kento, come fuck me." you moan dramatically as you get on your back, spreading your legs again. Your feet bump into his chest, and you kick him lightly, giggling. He knows he's about to snap if you don't stop right now. Your feet settle on his crotch, running up and down his hard-on.

"You're so hard for me-"

"That's it." he groans. You feel yourself getting dragged up by his strong arms before being thrown over his lap. You yelp when his hand comes down on your ass - hard. He spanks you over and over, not stopping no matter how hard you plead.

"Kento, stop please." you cry out, trying to crawl away from his lap. He doesn't listen instead he brings his hand down on your ass harder.

"I can't believe my daughter is friends with a slut like you," he says, and you involuntary moan at the sentence.

"That's what I thought." he snorts, massaging your butt. He pushes you out of his lap, and you fall on the ground next to his feet.

"Bend over the table," he orders, and you do what he asks with wobbly knees. You try to stand, but your front falls against the table.

"That's what bad girls get," he says, standing behind you. You hear his zipper go down, and you salivate in anticipation. The head of his cock runs through your folds before he slides right in. You knew he was big but didn't think he would be this hard to take.

"What's that? Can't take me?" he laughs, slapping your ass again. Your cheek presses against the table, and your whole body hurts even though he isn't moving inside you. he thrusts in, and your eyes roll back. He's not sweet, he fucks you like you deserve it. It's true, he's too big for you to handle, but he also feels so good.

"Are you crying?" he asks you when he notices a wet spot on the table. You can't answer with your eyes clouded with tears and saliva falling from your mouth. He broke you. You feel yourself falling, and you're close to fainting, but this is what you asked for.

"get up, whore. I'm not done with you."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii

@satorustar @balenciagarette @grosspube

[acotarxreader]

Healing Hands

Azriel x Reader (Devlon's daughter)

Synopsis: A new suitor in your life interrupts your friendship with your three best friends at Windhaven. The budding healer in you finds yourself breaking more hearts than healing.

Warnings: Angsty angst, fluff, descriptions of injury and cleaning injury. Blood and bruising city.

A/N: Hehe this is just a silly little will-they-won't-they taking place towards the end of the boyos time at Windhaven.

(Alternative title for this was Flutter lol)

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

“Woah what happened to you?”

“Fucking Devlon, fucking surprise drills” Azriel stomped inside your minuscule cabin, a mile or so from Windhaven where your childhood friends were coming to the end of their training. Your wings hung in their usual state, bumping the front door closed behind Azriel as he threw himself down on the couch. He flexed his cracked hands into small fists at the sight of your clipping scar while you retrieved your box of medicinals.

“Poor Illyrian baby” You teased, sinking into the seat alongside him, scarlet dripping from deep in his hairline, to slip past his split open lip and his bloodshot right eye.

“Just fix it”

“A please would go a long way” You jerked his chin towards the light to inspect his injuries. 

“Hands” you ordered, they shook slightly before being steadied by yours, you inspected his splintering knuckles, your thumb slipping over his now well-over decade-old injuries decorating his skin for the rest of his life. Hazel eyes softened at the loving action until you returned his hands to his lap and reached for the mixture of alcohol and herbs to soak on balls of cotton wool. You kneeled on the couch cushion, tilting his head down to attempt to find the source of the stream of blood.

“YNN, on your knees for me? You’re such a tease”

“Careful Az or your eyes will be a matching set” You shot back with a smile, the mouth of the wound coming into your view, you leaned in further, tilting his head downwards as you inked the mixture slowly into the cut.

“You know you're basically forcing my head into your chest now right?”

“Are you complaining?” You squeezed the cotton ball tightly, the liquid free flowing into the cut, releasing a hiss from Azriel, his hands gripping your hips into the burn. The cotton ball soaked the majority of the blood into its fibres until you replaced it with a fresh victim. 

“Don’t cross the healer/patient relationship line Az” You grinned, prying one of his hands from your hip to hold the cotton down. You swiped a cloth across the drying blood before sitting cross-legged across from him after retrieving something else from your bag and pulling him closer to you to look at his swelling orbit. 

“This was just an excuse so you could spend the night looking into my eyes wasn’t YNN” He grinned until you flickered a small fae-light directly into his eye causing him to flinch away from you. 

“Argh!”

“Well your pupils are fine” He shoved you back as you laughed in almost hysterics, his body now hovering the length of yours, a hand above your head to support his weight. 

“No need to fix my eye now that you’ve blinded me” 

“You're right, we should fix your lip though” You lightly catch him by the chin, dragging him down closer, him willingly going, dropping the cotton pad he held. Your faces were mere inches away now, Azriel believing he was about to have some of his dreams come true. He slowly closed his eyes but you quickly reached for another soaked cotton pad and pressed it to his lip. Azriel half howled from the surprise and accompanying pain, shooting up straight, a leg on either side of you while patting his lip dry.

“Bitch!”

“An odd way to say thank you but I accept” You smirk, his hands reaching to your sides as he had you pinned, tickling you mercilessly leaving you caught between a scream and laugh.

“Truce! Truce!” You called out as he beamed down at you, only stopping once you had begun to turn purple. You smiled up sweetly at him before the sound of a rusty lock shattered the peace in the cabin. Azriel leapt from you, shooting down to hide behind the couch as the latch on your front door lifted. You stuffed the used cotton pads behind the couch cushion as your father allowed Summer air to whip through the cabin. 

“Evening sweetheart” You smiled up at his greeting as he rolled his head along his shoulders. His eyes landed on the open case of medic supplies on the coffee table, a brow raising. 

“YNN you know I don’t like you messing around with that stuff”

“But I’m good at it” 

“It doesn’t matter, not the way to secure a useful match, playing around with things we leave to the professionals” He sighed, picking up a ball of cotton, the minuscule drop of blood threatened to betray you, you could practically feel Azriel holding in his breath behind the couch.

“Okay Father” you dipped your head, resulting in a small smile growing across Devlon’s face at his wallflower daughter. 

“YNN, have you given further thought to the offer of courtship you’ve received” Your eyes darted back to him before he strode back over in the direction he came from, you felt the gentle press of a shadow around your ankle, only for you to softly brush it away with your other foot. 

“No”

“Perhaps you’d enjoy this male’s company, it would certainly be a better use of your time than those three males I see you sneaking off with”

“Surely there is no better than a High Lord's son” you quipped, him spinning back to you, rage flashing across him before disappearing again. Azriel bit hit tongue from behind the couch, the sheer thought of you with his brother threatening to rise a laugh from him.

“There’s better than that High Lord’s son” You could practically feel the heat radiate from the other side of the couch at the disrespect towards Rhysand. You gave an obedient smile before standing to close the distance between you and your father, hoping he wouldn’t sense the quietly boiling Illyrian. 

“I will consider meeting with this match Father, now please rest, I’m sure those surprise drills were rather taxing to arrange” 

“Quite” He nodded, moving across the cabin before his hand hovered on the door handle that led to the hallway of bedrooms. 

“How did you know about the surprise drill?” His eyebrow raised like the heat in your cheeks. 

“Umm it’s a Tuesday...every fifth Tuesday you have your surprise drills” You offered. 

“Quite right-” he laughed, air returning to your chest “-perhaps I should move things around if even a female can work it out, no doubt some of my cadets have it twigged as well. Goodnight Sweetheart, clean up that mess and head to bed” He passed through the door with a smile. Azriel stayed hidden until the click of Devlon’s door met his ears, your shoulders slumping down. 

“So little YNN has a suitor” He teased quietly, hoping to cover the simmering jealousy as it rose through him. You just rolled your eyes as you packed a small care package for Azriel to use on his wounds. 

“Well, who is he?”

“Leave it Az”

“No no, you have to tell me” he whispered, gratefully taking the small package you made for him. 

“He’s no one, he finished up training last year and is doing pretty well for himself, Rhy’s father has even taken notice of him”

“Rhy’s father notices me”

“Yes but he notices him for good reasons” He threw a cotton wool ball at you before heading back towards the door. 

“Make sure you wipe down your hands and apply the cream I gave you”

“Yes boss” He gave a mock salute to you, hand resting on the door handle.

“Do you think you’re going to agree to meet up with this so-called Mother’s gift to Illyria” you chuckled at him, resting your arms behind your back and rocking from one foot to the other. 

“I don’t know, maybe, I’m not getting any younger, my wings are ruined, why not add my future to the list” Your sad smile caused a twinge in Azriel’s heart. 

“Marry me then” he teased.

“I don’t want to marry you” he rolled his eyes at your toying, suddenly releasing the handle of the door to push you flush into the coat rack with a gentle thud. You let out a slight sexually charged whimper at the sudden control he was taking and he smirked. Damn it, you thought. He was inches from your face once again.

“Yeah, I thought so” he winked before releasing you, revelling in the little victory you just granted him while you cursed yourself.

“I think I will agree to meet him” You tried to regain control as Azriel allowed more air to flutter into the apartment. He didn’t reply, afraid he’d shown you too many cards already.  

—--------------------------

Try as you might, Devlon stayed persistent with you with regards to meeting this male. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as terrible as you had assumed, Cal had a somewhat medley of opinions similar to your fathers but also to your friends. More importantly to you, he introduced you to the world outside the war camp, bringing you to Velaris for the first time, an easy place to fall in love with. You learned quickly that if you agreed to meet with him, more often than not the courtship would lead you out of the Illyrian mountains, your deepest desire. With more and more time away from the camp, more and more time away from your friends coincided, not going unnoticed by the trio. Azriel believed he’d lost you to the dashing soldier when really you were enamoured by the city of starlight while still able to keep a healthy distance from Cal’s advances under the guise of proper etiquette. It had been almost three months since Azriel had heard of the potential match your father was in favour of, his moody behaviour being sent on overdrive ever since, his two best friends being tormented by the increasing edge to their friend. 

You wandered home through the camp on your usual route after a rendezvous with Cal, blushing as you walked thinking of the way the music on the streets of Velaris made you feel. 

“Your cheeks are the same colour as my ribs” Your head spun towards Cassian, leaning against a post of a training ring, the Autumn night air beginning to give over to the Winter bite. 

“Cass” you rushed to him, hugging quickly to evade any eyes that may still be lingering around so late at night. 

“Surprised you still remember my name YNN” He teased with a slight edge of annoyance, your hand ran over his cheek, his eye swelling slightly to match his lip. 

“What happened?” 

“Ehh surprise drill, the Blood Rite will be in a few months, all the practice we can get is needed” He said softly, pulling your hand from his face, you swished your bag from your side to dig through its contents. You passed him a pouch of homemade lotions and potions to help soothe his splintered face. 

“Thanks, YNN, I got out fairly unscathed in comparison to Rhys and A-”

“I’m not that ruined” Rhysand’s laugh met your ears, one of your favourite sounds but the sight of him quickly ended any ounce of joy you held. 

“Rhys…” It was as though he had been torn asunder by wolves, even his clothes shredded.

“You two are coming home with me right now. My fathers meeting with yours Rhys, I’m not leaving you two to die of infection before you have a chance to kick all their asses at the Blood Rite” You didn’t give them much of a choice, the two Ilyrians following you home, under the guise of accompanying a lady safely home. 

You had patched together what you could of your friends, finding the return of comfort in their company that you had missed so deeply. 

“It seems rather early still for Blood Rite drills” You mused, offering Cassian a large cup of fragrant floral tea as the two warriors lounged on your couch.

“Drill? It wasn't a-” Cassian stomped down harshly on Rhysand’s foot to silence him, the action immediately alerting you, Cassian exhaling deeply as an accompanying roll of his eyes travelled his face. 

“Spill, now” you ordered Rhysand.

“Well…Az has been kind of… temperamental, we decided on temperamental didn’t we Cass?”

“I voted for raging asshole but whatever” Cassian sank further into the couch, pressing a medicinal-soaked cloth into his eye as it threatened to close. Your hands found your hips, glaring down at your friends like scolded schoolchildren. 

“Anyways, he’s been picking a lot of fights lately which is fine, it’s how he should work through his feelings but this time…this time he kind of decided to take on a whole fleet of Ironcrest members all very eager to receive their stripes, all by himself, we got to him just in tim-” Cassian sighed again through Rhysand’s confession, slightly annoyed that Rhysand had forgotten their deal to not tell you. 

“-Where is he?”

“YNN, I don’t think you should g-”

“Where is he?” you chewed out, not welcoming negotiations, the two brothers sharing a worried glance.

“Oooone-”

“-YNN we’re not children-”

“-Twoooo-”

“That’s not going to work on us-”

“Thhhhr-”

“He’s at Rhys’ mother's house!”

“Cassian!” Rhysand scolded, returning the stomp of a foot from early.

“She’s fucking scary when she does that!” Cassian exclaimed, a hand landing on his now bruising foot. You shot away from the two of them, quickly changing into a looser top and trousers. 

“Bunch of 24-year-old babies” You muttered, filling your bag with fresh supplies. 

“It’s not our fault you’ve driven him crazy” You stopped on the threshold of your home, turning your head towards another one of Rhysand’s confessions, tilting your head daring him to continue. 

“C’mon YNN, you’re off fluttering about with some hot shot, forgetting all about us, you're not around to rein him in lately so he's bound to go off to his own devices to distract himself”

“I do not flutter”

“Fine, let's go with galavant-”

“-I would say whore around but-”

“Cassian, inside thoughts” Rhysand warned, your hand leaving the handle to storm in front of the two Illryrians again. 

“I think you all forget that in a couple of months, you’ll be gone, off to be unleashed on the world, with one another. I’ll be here, I’ll always be fucking here, broken wings to match the broken dreams of escaping this hellhole while the rest of you go on and live your fucking lives without me. So please, forgive me for seeing an out no one else could provide me and fucking taking it” You snapped out, stunning the two males into silence, moving quickly with a heavy foot out the door. 

“And for fuck sake take your feet off my coffee table!” You shouted back, slamming the door behind you in a fit of rage. Cassian's feet returned to the ground, both men brought down a few pegs with their new awareness of their ignorance. 

Your rage could melt through the first fall of snow that began to glitter on the roofs of the war camp. Your heavy treading split the mud apart as you landed outside the haven provided to your friends. Your hand found the hidden key, letting yourself in, practically taking the door off the hinges. 

“YN? What the fuck?” Azriel groaned, attempting to sit up on the couch, his muscles screaming at the movement as they fought to stay attached to the bone. 

“No, you don’t get to talk right now!” Your feet pounded the floorboards and right through Azriels ears. 

“Where the fuck do you get off thinking it’s my fucking responsibility to regulate your emotions?!” You couldn’t stop the rage-fueled truth flying from your mouth.

“I-I don’t do that” he winced out, a hand wrapping around his torso to keep the muscle tying his ribs together from giving up, his feet landing shakily on the floor to sit up on the couch and face you properly. 

“Save it! Dumb and Dumber already told me about your recent…outings. What the fuck is wrong with you!? Alone!? They could have killed you!” You couldn’t seem to bring your voice back to its normal register, slamming your trusty bag of lifesaving ingredients down on the small table in front of Azriel. 

“Don’t pretend you all of sudden care about that! What? Has your prince charming turned back into an Illyrian frog like the rest of us?!” The blood coating his lip ran freely as his equally sharp tone reseparated the skin. 

“Shut the fuck up, give me your stupid hands” You sat on the coffee table, his knees touching yours as he slipped his hand to you with caution, your thumb tracing over the scars of his childhood as they always did while you inspected hands. Despite your current temper, the action gave comfort to Azriel that all was not lost between you both. 

“There’s a duck on the sink” You said oddly bitterly.

“Wha-ARGH FUCKING HELL!” You relocated his thumb back into its socket, his hands snatching back from you as they attempted to flex away the pain again. You pulled his face closer to yours, a particularly deep laceration decorating across his eyebrow. 

“Fucking idiot” you murmured, pulling thin threads of fabric that you began to coat with a sticky substance. 

“Bedside manner could use work”

“Shut up” You chewed back, Azriel’s shoulders sinking. Despite the nature of the visit, if he was honest with himself, there was an element of him that loved this one-on-one time, the first in weeks. He winced as you ran the strips on either side of the incision, using the tension to pull the skin back together where his healing powers would aid the knitting together. 

“Right. Shirt. Off. Now.” You ordered, removing yourself from in front of him to quickly fill a dish of water and elixir at the sink, returning to your starting point. Azriel fought the urge to shriek at the movement of his arms. You exhaled, helping him to pull the fabric from his skin, revealing the mottling covering his chest and abdomen. 

“Some of these are older” the first time your voice had softened since your arrival, your fingers lightly brushing over the blotches of winter palette in front of you. His eyes traced the lines of your face as it dipped to inspect his dappling. 

“It’s been a tough time recently”

“Who’s fault is that?” You gave a breathy laugh, running some thick creams over the fresher bruises before dipping a cloth into the dish and running it down his face to remove the dried blood. 

“Mine” He gave the gentlest of smiles that you returned, meeting his eyes for the first time since you arrived. 

“Good answer” You found yourself grinning, the boiling rage seemingly sinking to a simmer as you stood to retrieve a fresh shirt for Azriel to shield himself in. 

“You’re going to have to start getting better at taking care of your wounds for when you leave Az” You gestured for him to lift his arms as you pulled the surprisingly soft cotton down around him again, the bruising having happily drank the serum you applied. 

“Not if I steal you away with me” he laughed as his head popped through the collar, his body jolting slightly with the movement. 

“Ah to be your nurse”

“To be my partner in crime as you always have been” His soft words ceased all heating of your rage as you found your familiar spot next to him on the couch, the snow now beating down on the windowpane. 

“I wish I could Az but as you know my only way out of here is in a bright white dress or a casket, some might say those are the same thing” Your hand found the side of his cheek before tangling slightly in his hair as he leaned into the touch he missed so much. 

“You know those aren’t your only choices, we’ll come back for you YNN” He fought the rising salty mixture threatening his eyes, your hand slipping from his face to find your lap. Azriel grimaced as he turned his body to face you, his hands held yours as you often held his, his thumbs tracing the backs of your hand.

“And am I to wait and hope you don’t find another female for your group”

“Mor is not gonna like that comment” You laughed, pushing him back gently, regretting it as he recoiled his tender muscles. 

“There is no other you YN but we understand if you can’t wait for us, your survival is more important than our pride” his soft smile met your hands with a gentle kiss, your wings dipping at the action. 

“So you’re telling me if I chose to accept to marry Cal you’d be happy with that”

“Yes” he gritted out.

“Liar” you laughed wholeheartedly.

“He is a suitable match” he managed, his hands fixating on your delicate palms against the stark contrast of his own blood betrayal.

“I think you're a suitable match for me” You finally admitted out loud, the words had never left your mind before but now they floated out there in front of you for him to hear. 

“I am not suitable for anyone” His hands slipped from yours, landing back in his lap, his hazel eyes fixated on them as the cracked knuckles attempted to fuse together again. 

“Azriel”

“It’s not your job to regulate my emotions YNN” You laughed lightly, pulling his hands back to yours.

“I’ll regulate the stupid ones and that my love is a stupid one” A soft shiver shot down through Azriel’s spine at the term of endearment. 

“YNN, I am going to climb every mountain they put in front of me until I am worthy of you”

“Az, you’re worthy now” You leaned across the space between you, the taste of slight metallic and iron meeting your lips as you met him. Warmth transversed the air around you, the action healing something cracked in your soul and something in Azriel’s he thought had long died. 

“Looks a lot like fluttering to me” Rhysand laughed from the doorway, separating the two of you quickly, Cassian limping to his side, snow-covered. 

“How come that wasn’t offered to us in our care plan?” 

“You called me a whore Cass, you’ll get nothing and like it” You laughed as they closed the door behind you, Azriel a little more than annoyed at the interruption. 

“He what?” Azriels stiff neck shot towards his friends, Cassian lifting his hands in a truce. 

“Easy Az, another stupid emotion is showing” You smiled.

“I have no regrets, I’m team Az” Cassian settled into the carpeted floor across from you both. 

“By the looks of it, so is YNN now” Rhysand called from the kitchen, searching for snacks. He returned with a dragon trove amount of snacks, happy to see his family healing together as one again. 

“Cassian and I are sorry for what we said YNN, jokes aside”

“Aw no not jokes aside” Rhysand clipped Cassian into the chest with an orange, the four of you laughing. Azriel’s hand folded neatly into yours, and as always your thumb traced soothing circles over his scars. 

“I’m going to speak with my father tomorrow, his lead healer, Madja, is looking for an apprentice and Devlon won’t be able to refuse his High L-” you leapt from Azriel’s side, practically crashing Rhysand into the plush fabric of a well-worn armchair. 

“Sorry sorry!” You quickly added as Rhysand groaned into the weight you were putting down on his still-healing body. 

“See, whoring around” Cassian quipped, one of Azriel’s shadows nipping him with more precision than an orange. 

“No white dress or casket required while we’re around YNN” Azriel beamed from behind you.

“You’re rescinding your marriage proposal from Summer” You fake offense, finding your spot next to him again. 

“Only if you don’t accept it” he laughed. 

“Ugh cauldron boil me, are we going to have to deal with this for our last few months” Cassian whined.

"I'm hoping the rest of our lives" Azriel received more groans from your two best friends. 

"I think I preferred when you were a raging asshole"

"Too bad Cass" you grinned, Cassian pressing his face into a pillow to shield his eyes as you Azriel pecked your cheek.

The remainder of the night was wrapped in overwhelming familial familiarity. The four of you catching up on the months of escapades you had missed from one another during your absence, Azriel’s head resting in your lap where you swirled your fingers in his hair, his hands resting on your legs, wishing the end of this moment would never come.

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

Whatcha think?

[wileys-russo]

jenni hermoso ”i knew i would find you from here” a house party

j.hermoso II never too late

"i'm just gonna get some air!" you yelled over the music, kissing your best friends cheek who nodded, downing your drink and dropping the cup on a table on your way out, exhaling at the sudden peace and quiet of the backyard.

you pretended not to notice the few couples littering the back patio, curled up together in darkened corners and pool chairs taking advantage of the privacy as you wandered a little further away, sitting down at the edge of the pool.

this was supposed to be a high school reunion of sorts, though it felt a little sad to watch some of your now near thirty year old classmates try to re-live their 'glory days' most of the class now married, engaged or on call for their kids babysitters.

you of course had none of the above, having chosen to study right out of school and though you had a very high paying well respected job to show for it, you couldn't help but feel robbed of some other aspects of life you'd been too careless with.

"i knew i would find you here."

speaking of things you'd missed out on.

you looked up at her voice, a smile settling in your features as you took in the woman in front of you, no longer the awkwardly tall teenager you'd messed around with in empty classrooms during your free periods.

"jennifer hermoso fuentes." you smiled, pushing yourself up to your feet, stomach fluttering a little at the knee buckling grin she sent your way. "in the flesh, hola hermosa." the girl opened her arms for a hug as you settled into them, laughing as she jostled you side to side gently, kissing your cheek.

"of all people i expected to run into here, you weren't on my list jen." you admitted, the two of you breaking apart and taking a seat beside one another, legs dangling in the pool.

"mm and why is that?" she asked with a curious smile, leaning back on her hands and watching you. "a title winning national football campeón? slumming it at a house party with us campesinos." you teased as she playfully rolled her eyes and flicked you with water.

"what can i say? the honor is yours." jenni winked and you'd be lying if you said your stomach didn't do a little flip just like when you were a teenager.

"vale enough about me now! y tú? what are you doing with yourself?" jenni finished catching you up on everything around a half an hour later, bumping her shoulder into yours as you shrugged.

"-but sometimes i feel like i blinked and ten years has gone by, and i have a career sure but i do not have much to show for it in a way of a personal life." you wrapped up your summary, cheeks blushing pink as you looked away.

"what are you-" you questioned as the taller girl grabbed your hands inspecting them. "checking for a wedding ring, i would hate to be flirting with a married woman." jenni grinned cheekily as she dropped your hands and you couldn't help but smile.

"you have not changed." you chuckled at her abrupt boldness, jenni never afraid to wear her heart on her sleeve, one of the most honest women you'd ever known even if sometimes you did not ask for her honesty.

"i have too! i grew up, i am an adult." jenni stuck her tongue out at you as you shook your head. "big child in an adults body maybe." you teased, pushing her as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you, the faint pulse of the music inside as the night ran late and the party started to slowly die out.

"hey you have something that none of the idiotas here have." jenni stated as you gave her a curious frown, caught off guard as she leaned in and pecked your lips.

"you've kissed a world cup winner!" her lips curled into a wicked grin as she lay down looking up at you and you had to laugh, touching your lips where they tingled a little at the familiar sensation of kissing her.

"maybe you have changed..." you mused, leaning down closer as she quirked an eyebrow, playful glint in her eyes. "...you used to be a much better kisser." you whispered, patting her chest and sitting back up as she looked up at you incredulously.

"es que tan?" jenni sat up quickly, clearly offended by the statement which only amused you more as you nodded. "sí, de verdad." you confirmed, features painted into a smirk.

"mmm well maybe you have changed too princesa." jenni echoed as you now raised an eyebrow at her, though before you even had a millisecond to comment you were plunged underwater, feet hitting the bottom.

"you used to be a good swimmer!" jenni laughed, doubled over as you resurfaced coughing and spluttering, eyes narrowed into a filthy glare.

but you hardly had a moment to condemn her as she dove in to join you, popping up in front of you with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a pearly white toothy grin.

"i did not miss you cabrón." you spluttered, treading water as the footballer swam even closer. "yes you did." jenni nodded, hovering right in front of you now, her face only a few centimeters from yours.

"i did not." "you did." "you wish." "maybe i do."

another silence fell between you as your eyes roamed one anothers faces, drinking in every little detail both new and old that had stayed or appeared in the ten or so years you'd not seen her up close.

"why did we break up?" you were caught a little off guard at the abruptness of her question, sighing at the way her eyebrow creased curiously.

"i don't know jen. you were getting serious with football, i was going to university. we just...we went down different paths of life that didn't cross over." you struggled out an answer, neither of you really holding any ill will with the other but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't occasionally found yourself doing a little internet deep dive into what your ex was up to.

"i only came here hoping i would see you." again you were caught off guard by her statement, searching her eyes for any signs that she was messing with you but only finding blunt honesty, her speciality.

"well...here i am." "here you are." jenni smiled and those butterflies appeared as you reached across to push a few wet strands of hair from her forehead, shivering lightly as a gust of wind blew hitting your damp skin.

"vamos, lets get dry." jenni nodded toward the steps, the two of you swimming over, jenni hopping out first and extending a hand to help you. "you didn't think this through, did you?" you questioned, motioning to both of your soaking wet bodies and not a towel in sight as she smiled sheepishly.

"well...i'm not staying far from here. i have a very spacious shower in my hotel room, and lots of towels, comfortable bed, movies on order, snacks." jenni grinned hopefully, poking at you as you smacked her hand and wrapped your arms around your wet form.

"are you asking me to come for a sleepover hermoso?" you teased as the taller girl chuckled and shrugged. "maybe. but just, with a little less sleeping." she hinted with another wink that had your stomach twisting, offering you her hand with a charming smile, brightening as you grabbed it and the pair of you headed off toward the side exit.

maybe it wasn't too late for some things to work out for you after all.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hello!

If possible could you write a fic with reader and matt in an established relationship and he hears something when he's around them and it starts driving him nuts and then he finally realizes is a tiny heartbeat bc reader is pregnant but doesn't realize it, and he's like overjoyed?

sorry this is my first time requesting lmao

hii!! this is very cute :( very happy to be first to write one of your requests☺️ thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

HEARTBEATS.

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count. 481

Recently, whenever Matt was near, he wore an expression you couldn't quite place, looking as though he was concentrating - like his brain was preoccupied. You knew he often had a lot on his mind, so you waited the questioning - wanting him to come to you when he was ready, though he never did. 

Another week had passed, and he continued to model that same sceptical face around you, still no closer to the route of his confusion.

-

You're lying on the sofa, basking in the early evening sunset, nursing your nausea and awaiting Matt to return home from the store. He told you he'd briefly pop out to pick up some things for dinner - that he'd get something to help with your sickness bug, something to ease the upset in your aching body.

You hear the keys jingle in the door, indicating Matt's return home.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls out, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry about the wait. Was so busy out there," he continues, placing the bags on the counter. He makes his way to you on the couch and takes a seat on his knees in front of you. "How you feeling?" he asks, slipping his hand into yours.

"Gross," you simply reply between a soft breath, closing your eyes. You were starting to feel it again - like the room was spinning. 

His thumb circles over your skin, attempting to ease you. "I'm sorry, angel," he coos, speaking gently. 

Matt props himself higher on his knees, extending to reach himself over your middle. He places a light kiss to your stomach over the fabric of your top and then carefully rests the side of his head in that spot - trying to comfort you. He keeps hold of your hand and laces his fingers between yours, playing with your hand as if to distract you. 

You peek down at Matt on your stomach, watching his brows furrow, seeming like he was focusing - that same darned face again. You extend your spare hand towards his head and nestle your fingers in his hair, soothingly stroking over his scalp. "What is it?" you ask, your confusion mirroring his.

He faintly shakes his head and shushes you softly, a smile growing. 

"Matt?" 

"It's not the flu, honey," he beams at you, lifting his head from your stomach abruptly. "It's not the flu," he repeats, the words almost catching in his throat.

"What do you mean?" you question, following his movements.

"Sweetheart," he coos, drawing out the petname with a gentle nod - like he was trying to prompt you.

"No?" you whisper, speaking in disbelief.

He nods once more, his features softening and melting upon hearing the news. His grip tightens in your hand, and he brings it to his lips, placing another kiss where the last one dried. 

"We're going to have a baby?"

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

some reason when I was writing this it reminded me of when vision said “yes, my love,” to wanda when she got her baby bump🥲 now im sad

[roolette]

Konig Begging to Go Down on S/O

Hey guys, insane again. Needed to write this. I have no explanation for myself

CW: NSFW, cunnilingus, afab!reader, gn!reader

Konig is exhausted. The day feels neverending, the tasks daunting, and all he wants is to get home to you. He always looks forward to you- waiting to kiss you, to hold you in his big arms- but this is different. Today, he craves you. He wants to loose himself between your thighs, to taste you until you're shaking with pleasure.

He arrives at the home the two of you share, removing his mask and wiping the slight sheen of sweat off his face. You're sitting on the couch with a book in hand, and you raise your head as you hear the door open.

"Konig, you're home," you say with a smile, shuffling as you move on your feet. Konig holds a hand out, gesturing for you to stay seated. "What is it?"

Konig steps forward, moving towards you before dropping to his knees in front of you, grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart. You suck in a breath, heat rising to your face and pooling between your legs. He looks up at you from between your legs, eyes glazed over with lust.

"Please, liebling," he whispers, pressing deep kisses into the soft skin of your thighs. "Let me taste you. I need it. Need you."

You reach forward and run a hand through his auburn locks, and he lets out a breath at your touch. He's still waiting for your answer, gaze locked on yours, lips turned up in the slightest of smiles. You nod.

Konig doesn't waste a second. He spreads your legs further apart, pulls your shorts down, and kisses your clit, making you whine with parted lips. His tongue traces over your entrance before moving back to your clit, circling it before sucking, hard.

Your hands grip his hair at the sensation, pulling him further into you. Konig chuckles, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. He has an iron grip on your thighs, and you know you'll be bruising the next day. So worth it.

Konig's tongue slides into your entrance, licking and swallowing every drop as he tongue-fucks you, kissing and sucking before licking again, his pace relentless. You rock your hips on his face, and he groans in appreciation.

"Go on," he mumbles against your pussy. "Fuck my face. I want to feel it."

Your clit bumps against his nose, and you grind against it as his tongue slides in and out of you. Your thighs shake with the stimulation, but he keeps holding. Your legs are staying spread until he's done with you.

Konig's thick fingers curl up inside you, hitting a spot that makes you see stars. You let out a loud groan, rocking your hips with each thrust of his fingers. You're close, and you grip Konig's hair harder.

"Go on," Konig moans. "On my face, please. I need it."

You cum with a high-pitched whine, releasing on Konig's nose, the slick dripping down to his mouth, where his tongue laps up every bit of you. He leans back for air, lips red, face slick with your juices. He grins like an idiot, well and truly pussy-drunk. Konig rises up to kiss you, licking into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

"Thank you," Konig says, breathless.

"You're thanking me?" You laugh.

"Yes. Needed it, liebling."

He kisses you again. You smile against his lips.

[sincerelyrki]

everyone should know

your boyfriend couldn’t just sit around and watch another man shamelessly flirt with you. he had to do something, even if it meant revealing your relationship.

pairing : idol!secretbf!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings + genre : suggestive themes. secret relationship. jealousy. reader is said to have hair long enough to braid.

wc : 626

a/n : i struggle with writing drabbles but i hope this one turned out alright <3 i’m trying to update (almost) everyday whether it be a new miniskirt chapter or a oneshot (tmr it will be a miniskirt update, promise)

perm written taglist : @vousty

Sunghoon’s unmoving glare seemed to have no effect on his eldest member, his attention drawn to you like a moth. 

A flirty smile sat on Heeseung’s lips the entire time the two of you conversed, knees bumping as your body was bent toward each other.

The entire dinner Sunghoon had to listen to your cute giggles, watching as you playfully knocked your shoulders against the man sitting directly beside you.

He struggled with restraining himself, his legs almost shaking the entire table as they unrelentlessly bounced. 

His hands were in no better condition, knuckles ghostly white as he clutched his utensils tight in his palms. 

“Your hair is so pretty, did you braid it yourself?” The second Heeseung’s hand gently tugged on one of your braids, Sunghoon snapped.

The entire table flinched in shock as Sunghoon’s fork came slamming down, his plate chattering due to the force that suddenly came down around it.

Sunghoon rounded the table, his fingers wrapping around Heeseung’s wrist as he pulled his hand away from you.

 “I did it.” He declared a little bit too loud, looks getting thrown your way from the staff sitting around the neighbouring tables. 

Heeseung raised his hands in retreat, eyebrows raised as he matched Sunghoon’s look. “It looks good, but I think I could’ve done better.”

He gave you one more glance, winking at you as he finished his sentence, “much better.”

Everyone shared a look, their legs pushing their chairs out as they prepared to jump in between the two males before they could begin fighting in front of their entire staff.

“Oh really?” Sunghoon mused, head tilting to the side as he pretended to think about the possibility of Heeseung’s words being true.

Heeseung confidently nodded his head, his hands lowering to cross across his chest, his chin held high as he looked up at the two of you. 

Sunghoon moved his head to face you, his hand coming up to trace along one of the braids. “Now that you mention it, she was moving quite a lot.” 

Your jaw dropped at Sunghoon’s obvious innuendo, heat rushing throughout your body as everyone seemed to understand what he was referring to.

Sunghoon didn’t wait to see Heeseung’s response, turning his back to him as he gently entwined your hands. 

He led you back to his seat, his hand never leaving yours as he once again sat down.

He spread his legs, his knees separating as he slid his hips lower down the chair. “Sit,” He patted his thigh once, his hand tugging against yours as he pulled you forward.

Sunghoon helped you sit across him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tugged your back taut against his chest. 

“Isn’t it so much more comfortable over here?” Sunghoon purposely breathed down your neck, his cocky smile growing as he felt your body shiver. 

“I guess he hasn’t realized that you’re my girl yet, I think we need to make it a little more…” He trailed off, his hands tightening around your waist before he began placing small pecks along the base of your neck, “obvious.”

“No one knew, they wouldn’t have sat me beside someone else if they did.” You almost started defending your close friend but automatically backtracked after realizing how angry Sunghoon was.

“That’s the problem, everyone should know.” 

“Should they?” Sunghoon knew you were just teasing him at this point, riling him up for your amusement. But he still took your words seriously, imagining the look on Heeseung’s face after he finds out about the sincerity of your relationship.

“They’ll all know by tonight.” 

It was safe to say that they all knew about the two of you by the time the sun set, Heeseung getting the hint right away.