#now I can spend the next couple of weeks coming up with all sorts of horror scenarios

[damnprecious]

I have officially booked the appointment for my tree tattoo, I can't waittttt

[siena-sevenwits]

:-)

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 28/10/2024 Max Verstappen - RolePlay

Plot: It happened one Halloween, and escalated in Austin and now you guys are here…

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, blowjob, fingering, role play, dressing up, etc 18+ Minors DNI

It started on Halloween when you’d both dressed up for a party that was being hosted by Lando, Max’s fellow race car driver and friend.

You were dressed as Poison Ivy as you’d had your hair died red for quiet some time and Max as your male counterpart decided to go as Bat Man, you’d say in the bathroom with him doing his makeup, making sure to smudge under his eyes and get the look perfect before spending time on yours.

You for sure were the best dressed couple at the party and many photos were taken that night. Not just for the public where it went on your stories or as reels on other peoples accounts who were at the party, but many photos were taken by Max on his phone from above you while you laid on the bed in that red dress your boobs all pushed up and looking amazing.

He had fucked you in that dress that night while he wore his whole Batman getup.

Mask and all.

And yes immediately you’d both drunk way to much that night and both have individually pushed it away as a fluke.

However the next time was on a themed birthday party where it was Daniels birthday which he’d themed to cowboys. You’d been having a laugh all night putting on a Texas accent which wasn’t as hard for you as it was for Max. When you got home he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear in a southern belle accent.

You were incredibly sober and so very turned on by him in his little cowboy hat that by the time Austin rolled around you were a gonner and you guys did it again against better judgement in his driver room.

Safe to say Sergio had some complains in the next Red Bull debrief.

So it became a thing that you guys liked dressing up and being other people. You didn’t know why but you just sort of fell into a routine.

One day you’d waited in his drivers room after FP1 in what was supposed to be typical grid girl and Max was in his driver suit. He ended up eating you out while still in his drivers suit and you were done for.

Now tonight was your anniversary, and you wanted to do something special. You guys had done lots but one thing you’d never done was Massage Therapist and you thought tonight would be the perfect time. You hired out the whole spa in your apartment building asking for nobody to be there as Max had been stressed with the championship recently and decided it might be better to have a private evening to help him.

“Where are we going” he asks as you grab his hand guiding him to the lift.

“Downstairs, to the spa” you smile and he groans shaking his head.

“Mmmm noooo i don’t wanna talk to people today” he sighs pulling you hand back.

“I rented it out. So it’s just for us. Anniversary gift!” You smile rubbing his arm.

“Wait what? Omg babe, you must hate me” he says putting his hand on his head in exhaustion.

“You forgot?” You ask.

“I’m so sorry, I barley even knew what race I was flying to last week” he sighs pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay baby, I understand but I have a treat for you tonight come on” you smile and he nods. You take him all the way down into the spa area.

“Okay, let’s get you relaxed love” you smile.

You spend the first part of the evening swimming in the pool, going into the jacuzzi, then mixing between the rain room, sauna and steam room.

“Don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time relaxing in like the last 10 years. It feels … nice” he smiles looking over at you as he wraps the towel around his waist.

“Okay, now time for the main attraction” you grin and get him to follow you to the massage area.

“Mmmm now, Mr Verstappen is it?” You ask is a husky voice. And immediately his head snaps up to you a grin on his face before he takes on his role.

“Mmmm yes, I heard your the best masseuse in Monaco” he says.

“Okay, if you’d get on the bed for me. I can start” you say and immediately he’s on the bed, laying with his face in the little hole.

You pull the towel off of him and run the sheet up to cover his bare ass. You hands guide up from his hips to his shoulder working lightly on any kinks you can feels.

“Fuck” he moans. You smile, working down his muscular arms.

“How is that Mr Verstappen, am I doing a good job?” You ask and he groans again.

“An amazing job” he says and humps against the bed, with another groan.

“Is there anywhere else you’d like me to massage?” You ask hoping you leading him down the right line of phrases.

“Well there is this one area that I’m sort of struggling with right now!” He says and you stand next to him looking at him.

He rolls over covering himself with the white sheets provided and underneath you can see the tent from his large dick hard and sticking up.

“Mmm is this the affected area?” He says grabbing it through the sheets, a moan coming from his mouth as he thrusts up.

“Y-yes” he whimpers.

“Mmmm a tricky area but I guess I can see what I can do” you say softly. Bending down to kiss it.

“Ohhhhh very tense, can I get a closer look at the area?” You say hand teasing just above the sheet waiting to pull it off of him.

“Yea, god yes please” he says and that’s all you need to pull the sheet down and kiss the tip of his dick. Your mouth encloses around it, the sound of your wet mouth sucking around his dick your tongue feeling every ridge and vein that had cropped up since he’d hardened.

“Fuck yes” he moans looking down at you. You weren’t fully on the bed however one leg was up on the bar holding the feet of it together and you were using it as leverage to get yourself a little higher.

“Mmmm I think we’re almost there” you say just before kitten licking his tip. Your hands come down to the parts that your mouth can’t reach and work in tandem with one another.

“One of the best clients I’ve ever had, making it so easy for me” you say and you can feel him twitch meaning he’s was going to cum. You don’t put you mouth back, having the perfect scenario.

You let him come after rushing your hands up and down his length causing his hips to buck up as he bites his lip with a moan.

He cums all over his stomach the white substance not moving off, just staying in a puddle.

“Hmmm your looking tense still, I’m just going to see if we have some oils” you say before walking out back to where you’d hidden the lingerie set. You pop it on with a doctor coat over the top and come back in.

You see Max physically gulp looking up at you.

“Hmmmm not many oils but maybe this will do?” You say dipping a finger into the cum tasting it. You lean down licking across his soft abs until it’s all gone and swallowed.

“Hmmm what a shame. Oils it is” you say pouring some oil across his stomach.

“This isn’t a great angle. Do you mind?” You offer a hand for you to jump up.

“Anything to get me more relaxed Doc” he smiles pushing so he’s leaning up on his elbows. You jump up onto the bed, kneeling either side of him. Surprised with how you can both fit.

You run your hands along his chest using the oil to make it all the more slippery.

“Doc, I think my fingers need a work out” he grins, wanting to also please you but not break character. You guys had actually gotten really good at the whole acting portion of the role play, no wonder they asked Max to do that Heineken commercial.

“Oh, hmmmm well I’ll get to those later unless you can find a way” you smile sill rubbing the oils all over. He runs a hand down your stomach, pulling the edge of your panties down slipping his hand in so his fingers tease the edge of your folds.

“Mr Verstappen this is highly unprofessional” you grin and he grins back.

“I think you’re enjoying this massage though Doc, and you want to help me right?” He asks and you nod.

“Of course I do” and he continues to move in and out ever so slowly. You behind to rock your hips against him until the table makes an uncomfortable creek that has you both pausing.

You whine at the lack of contact, but stop moving you hips and let your boyfriend do all the work. His fingers are perfect, a nice size and length that reach the perfect spot in you.

“Ohhhhh Mr Verstappen” you moan with your head thrown back, stopping the massage on his chest.

You tighten around his fingers, coming with some shakes that again make the table dangerously creek.

“I think you need to talk to your maintenance man about the stability of you tables doc. Maybe he can … Yano help you out” he grins to you and you already know he’s getting more ideas for more scenarios you can both do in the future.

“Mmmm I think you’re right. You’re very good Mr Verstappen I’ll have to book you in again” you let out a relaxed sigh.

Safe to say the massage room want the only place you guys were intimate for the rest of the night. Jokes being thrown around after that if Lando ever went into that steam room when Max was there he’d tell him everything he done to you in that room. And the pool, and the sauna, and the rain room. As both a massager and you.

It was a very … busy night for you both.

Taglist:

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[moonstruckme]

I’d love to see you write James and reader who’ve suffered the ‘never the right time’ trope, and finally, it’s the right time. It’s like so soft and just a moment of peace, like ‘finally, finally, it’s our time’. I have literally no ideas further than that, but I know you’d kill this Mae <3

hope you’re having a lovely day!

Thanks for requesting my love! Also, is that a new theme I see?? It's giving me renaissance vibes, like the clouds are going to part and there'll be an oracle and it'll be you ! I'm so here for it

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

Sirius and Remus keep fighting over who gets to play the music. Sirius more pointedly, tracking Remus down every time he has to change the record, whereas Remus just sneaks over while his boyfriend is occupied to switch it out again. Now Fleetwood Mac’s come on, and James can only assume Lily has finally stationed herself by the record player. 

A knock sounds at the door. Someone must have ordered pizza, he thinks. Anyone who goes to these things knows that Sirius always leaves the door unlocked. Being the closest to the door, James answers it. 

He thinks he stops breathing when he finds you on the other side, clutching a dissolving paper bag in both hands and nearly wet through. 

“Oh.” You look as surprised to see James as he is to see you. Which doesn’t seem strictly fair, because the last time he checked, he spends practically all of his time here and you live far away. Have since you took that cushy job right after school ended. “Hi, James.” 

“Hi.” His voice is mystified, tinged with the joy of the smile he can’t repress. “What’re you doing here, sweetheart?” 

“Remus invited me.” 

James stares at you. You look somehow exactly the same and yet impossibly more beautiful than he remembers. It’s odd seeing you out of your old school uniform, in a very adult-like coat that comes down to your knees and ties primly at the waist. Your hair is slicked straight by the rain, stuck in damp tendrils to your shoulders, and he swears your face has changed, too, a droplet of rainwater curving over a cheekbone he doesn’t remember being as visible when you were younger. 

“Um, can I come in?” 

“Yes! Yeah.” He steps out of the doorway, and your shoes squelch slightly as you wipe them off on the rug inside the door. James looks around as if for help. He thinks he spots Remus’ head poking out of the kitchen, but then it disappears. “Here, let me take your coat.” 

“Thanks.” You undo the tie for yourself, letting James pull it off your arms. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“You too.” He’s beaming; he can’t stop. “God, I just can’t believe you’re here. Are you in town for a visit?” 

“No, I—” You pause to give him a bemused sort of smile. “Did Remus not tell you? I moved back.” 

James feels like his chest has been hollowed out. Like someone’s taken out his heart and put the sun back in its place. 

“Really?” It comes out more breath than word. He fumbles for his voice back. “You’re back for good?” You nod, biting down on a smile. “When did you get here?” 

“A couple weeks ago,” you say, looking down to step out of your shoes. 

“What?” James’ tone is doing nothing to disguise his astonishment. He’s in no state to try and conceal it. “And we’re not hearing from you until now? You’ve only spoken to Remus?” His hurt goes unvoiced: Why didn’t you come find me?

You look sheepish. “I just ran into him at the store yesterday.” 

“Why didn’t you call?” 

“I didn’t want to assume…” 

You look like you’re trying to shrink away, but James gives chase, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. The cold of your clothes and hair sinks into him, and you both shiver. He only holds you tighter for it, scrubbing a hand up and down your shoulder blade. 

“You should have called,” he says next to your ear. “You know we’ll always want you here, love. We’ve missed you.” I’ve missed you. 

“I missed you guys, too,” you reply, squeezing him back. The paper bag you’re holding digs into his spine. 

James gives himself a couple more seconds before he releases you, taking the bag and unearthing a bottle of wine. 

“Nice of you,” he acknowledges. “Sirius will appreciate it, he loves reds. We should get you warmed up, yeah? Do you want some of this, or I could make you a hot buttered rum?”

You look like you could melt in relief. “A hot drink sounds amazing.” 

“Great.” He grins at you, knowing you have to go but unwilling to let you. If you leave his sight now you might very well disappear for another several years. After a second, his better sense wins and he juts a chin towards the stairs. “Go find something to wear. It’s the last door on the left, and the closet across from the bed should have things that’ll fit you.” 

James sees your protests in your face before they start spewing from your mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t—” 

“If you go into the kitchen all dripping wet, Remus will only bring you up there himself. Save yourself the time, love. He’d want you to help yourself, trust me.” 

You chew your lip, hesitant, but then another shiver takes you, and James gives you a good-natured shove towards the stairs. 

“Alright,” you capitulate, going. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.” 

“No hurry,” he calls up after you. Then high-tails it for the kitchen. 

“I cannot believe you’ve set me up for ambush like this,” he says as the door swings open for him. His two closest friends look up with expressions of equal guilelessness, though Sirius is putting on far more a show of surprise than his boyfriend. 

“I had no idea!” He insists while James stalks to the cabinet, helping himself to a mug and the supplies to make your drink. “Moony kept it from me, you know I’d have told you if I knew.” 

James glances up at him, then shakes his head, reaching over to flick the kettle on. “No, I don’t believe it. You’ve both been colluding against me.” 

“It’s only against you if it’s not good for you,” says Remus. “And I don’t see how y/n being here is all that bad for you.”  

“Yeah, I’d have thought you’d be fairly chuffed about it,” Sirius agrees, forgoing the innocent act as smirk curves his lips. 

“I am.” James blows out a breath. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her. I didn’t even know she’d moved back.” 

Remus shrugs, cracking open the oven to check on something inside. “Well, I think she might have been afraid to seek you out.” 

“Why would she be?” 

Amber eyes meet James’ with disbelief written all over them. “You know why,” he says softly. 

The kettle finishes boiling, and James turns to pour it over the contents of your mug. “Well, I directed her to Sirius’ closet as retribution.” 

He hears a gasp behind him. “You prick—”

The door to the kitchen swishes open, and you breeze in wearing one of Sirius’ hoodies. 

“Sirius!” 

“Hi!” He’s all smiles as he folds you into a hug, glaring sharply at James over your shoulder. “Fuck, haven’t you become stunning? It’s been awhile, gorgeous.” 

“It has,” you agree, looking slightly flustered by Sirius’ complimenting. Which, James notes, is an improvement over your school days; you were never able to weather it then. “It’s so good to see you.” 

You go to Remus next, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders fondly. “Glad you could come,” he says. 

“Thanks for having me.” Your eyes move between the three of them, seeming to note their placement throughout the kitchen. “Sorry, were you all busy talking about something?” 

“Actually,” Sirius says, “Remus and I were just canoodling when James interrupted, quite rudely I think. If you’re going to join the party, please take him with you.” 

“Alright.” James takes your drink and grabs a cider for himself, nudging you towards the door. “No need to be a dick, just come find us later.” 

Sirius winks at you both as James ushers you out, Remus sending him a long-suffering look from by the oven. 

“Nice to know some things don’t change,” you laugh, finding a space on the couch for you both. 

“Yeah,” James sets your drink down in front of you, “I doubt those two ever will.” 

“Thanks. Ooh, this is nice.” You take the clear mug between your hands, lifting it up to admire the liquid inside. “When did Remus get so posh?” 

“Well, Sirius lives here now.” 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen, surprise and maybe a little of something else. “Wow, that’s so lovely for them. Then, is this Sirius’ sweatshirt I’m wearing?” 

James chuckles. “You could tell, huh?” 

“None of those looked like Remus’ clothes. Are we punishing him for something?” 

He raises his own drink to his lips, hiding his smile. They’ve always come especially easily around you. “Perhaps.” 

You hum, take a sip from your mug, and hum again. “Shit, this is really good. Thank you.” 

The praise settles comfortably in James’ stomach, as warm and mind-fuzzing as if he’s had a gulp of your drink himself. “Anytime, sweetheart.” 

This time, he notices your eyes flicker away from his at the endearment. “So,” you say conversationally, “how’s Lily?” 

Ouch. James glances behind you to where Lily has pulled a chair over near the record player. She’s sipping from a glass of red wine that’s only a couple of shades darker than her hair, smiling at something Pandora’s saying. 

“She’s good,” he says. Then, somewhat abruptly, “We’re not together anymore.” 

Your eyes flit to his, something almost like guilt twinging across your features. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you say. The caring in your face is nearly too much; James wants to take it between his hands and kiss it all over. “Are you okay?” 

He gives you a smile. “Yeah,” he says sincerely. Perhaps with too much feeling, because your eyebrows bunch slightly. “It happened a long time ago. Not long after you left, actually.” 

“Oh.” You nod, and James finds himself watching you more carefully than he normally might. He waits for the sense of bliss he’s feeling to find its way into your expression, but you still appear hesitant. “Can I ask if something happened? You just, you were together for so long…”

It’s true. Most people they knew, even Remus and Sirius, thought Lily and James would be married someday. In the end, it just seemed that they’d been together for so long that their relationship had become a routine instead of a choice. They were cohabitors more than partners, and when they were doing everything they could to spend time away from their shared home, Lily had been the only one brave enough to call them both out on it. 

“We just wanted different things,” James says. Namely, Lily wanted Mary and James wanted you. Had for too many years. 

You make a soft sound. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “So, come on—you’ve had my update, let’s have yours. How did you like your job?” 

You pair your shrug with a small smile. “Not very well, honestly. I don’t think I really fit there.” James tsks sorrily, and you shrug again. “It’s just as well. I missed you all too much. I wanted to give it a try there and I did, but I’m glad to be back.” 

“Ah, well,” James says. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 

It’s a terrible joke, but you laugh, the sound like water trickling over stone. He feels the smile spread on his face. 

“I really have missed you,” he says, earnestness aching in the back of his throat. 

A similar sentiment reflects back at him in your eyes. “Same here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad I am, too.” 

“Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?” With anyone else the invitation would seem abrupt, but your smile looks something like relief. You’ve both been waiting for this for too long. 

“That sounds nice,” you say. 

“Great.” James can hear the love in his own voice. It’s probably written all over his face, too. Just as well. “There’s a new cafe by my place that has really good almond croissants, would you want to meet there?” 

You nod, not trying to downplay your happiness. His heart swells to see it. “I love almond croissants,” you say. 

James remembers. It’s one of the things he’s glad to know about you. There was a small, censured part of him that took satisfaction in knowing those things even when he was with Lily. It’s not something he’s ever been proud of, but a spark of that satisfaction comes back now. 

“Perfect,” he replies. Behind you, Remus is letting Sirius pull him out of the kitchen. Remus folds himself into an unoccupied chair, where Sirius happily sprawls across his lap. They’re both pretending not to be watching you. “How’s one?” 

“Not soon enough,” you say without hesitation. You take another sip of your drink, miming unconcern, but your eyes are playful. “Ten?” 

James feels like his face could split in half. “Ten it is.” 

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: After a number of weeks dating Harry, Y/N is ready to take the next step physically. He guides her through her first couple of intimate experiences in a way that has her falling deeper and deeper for him.

Word Count: 5.5K

CW: thigh riding, handjob, fingering

AN: First bit of smut! I feel like I should warn that while the rest of the chapters (3-5) are smutty, they’re not exactly spicy. Since reader is very innocent the story is more Harry teaching her so its definitely more like, awkward and endearing than sexy haha

——————

After a few weeks, numerous dates, and plenty of innocent kisses, today might finally be the day you experience more.

Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to spend plenty of quality time with Harry. It’s been wonderful just getting to know him and grow closer together. Your relationship is strong, you’ve both started to really trust and depend on each other.

And while all of the time spent talking and hanging out has been fantastic, you can’t help but think about the more physical side of a relationship. You’re more than ready to take it up a notch, whatever that may be.

Harry had driven you home from a few dates, and you hadn’t asked him to come in again. Not yet.

But today, as the two of you sat at a local park eating ice cream and enjoying the warm spring air, you made the decision to ask again. You hope he’ll understand that this means you’re ready.

As always, he walks you to your door. Before he can lean in for a goodbye peck, you say, “Would you like to come inside?”

“I would love to,” he answers, having noticed your hopeful expression. You unlock the door and he follows you inside. You stop briefly in the kitchen to grab water for each of you then lead him to the living room.

You sit on one end of the couch and he does the same on the opposite side. He’s as far from you as possible. And that’s just not going to work. But you’re nervous. Unsure of how to make the first move. You desperately wish he would take control, but you don’t know how to say that.

Instead, you ask, “Do you want to watch a movie?” It’s painfully obvious what you’re trying to do, but he doesn’t call you out on it, just replies, “Sounds like a great idea.”

Of course that means you now have to choose a movie. Luckily, the two of you quickly settle on a romcom, one you’ve both seen before. Which is perfect, because you hope you won’t actually be watching the whole thing. You’d love it if there was some sort of distraction in the form of Harry.

The movie starts and a few minutes later you get up to make popcorn. When you get back you sit down on the middle cushion, noticeably closer to Harry. His small smirk tells you he knows exactly what you’re doing.

There’s definite tension in the air, an electric charge that’s both exciting and nerve wracking. You’re hyper aware of Harry next to you, noticing every time he so much as shifts a finger.

And then he finally makes a move. Kind of. Maybe the start of a move. Harry raises his arm and rests it on the back of the couch behind you. He’s not technically touching you, but his fingertips graze lightly on your arm every now and then. It’s enough to drive you crazy, teasing you to no end.

Eventually you gain some confidence and slide closer so that your sides are touching. Finally, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to him.

Turning to look at Harry, your breath catches in your throat as you see him already watching you. He smiles gently at you, and his eyes glance to your lips. You smile softly in return, and as though it’s slow motion, he begins to learn towards you.

Your tongue darts out quickly, licking your lips just before Harry’s mouth meets yours. As always, it’s soft, his mouth plush and gentle. But this time he doesn’t pull away after one kiss. He turns slightly, his lips moving against yours in a way that you know will quickly become addicting.

After a few minutes of sliding your mouths together, you feel his lips part. You follow his lead, opening your mouth slightly to deepen the kiss. Finally his tongue slides into your mouth, just a little bit, enough to tease and make you want more.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. He notices your expression, how calm and serene you look.

“C’mere,” he says, voice low and gravelly. His hand gently grips your leg, his skin meeting yours, sliding just under the hem of your sundress. He helps you shift so that you’re seated in his lap straddling one of his thighs. You don’t quite settle, keeping some distance between your bodies. Harry’s hands slide back up to your face, holding your cheeks as he leans in for another passionate kiss.

When he deepens the kiss once more, you start to feel something in your belly. It feels warm, and tingly, and you become antsy, like you need to move or else you may explode. Your body moves, and you don’t even realize what’s happening. You lower your hips until your center is directly on Harry’s firm thigh.

A new feeling jolts through your body at the contact, and you pull back with a gasp. You look at Harry, confusion obviously written all over your face.

“It’s okay, love,” he says to reassure you.

Your brow furrows even more and you ask, “What was that?”

Now it’s his turn to be confused and he says, “What was what?”

“That feeling. When I uhm-”

“When you grinded on my leg?” He says, smirk back on his face. You flush, and without making you answer he continues, “Have you ever come before?”

“Come? Come where?”

He laughs, and you duck your head, embarrassed by how naive you are. He moves your hair out of your face and ducks as well to meet your eyes. “I don’t mean to laugh at you. You’re very endearing. What I meant to ask is have you ever had an orgasm before?”

“Oh. No, I haven’t,” you answer honestly.

“You haven’t even had one just from touching yourself?”

“Harry, masturbation is a sin,” you reply.

He’s taken aback by this response and you quickly laugh to show you’re not serious.

“It’s what I was taught when I was younger,” you continue. “And then when I got older and realized that was ridiculous I tried a couple times. But I never actually felt anything so I just gave up. Wait, was that an orgasm?”

“Not quite, love. That was pleasure which can build into an orgasm,”

“Oh,” you say.

He leans in for a sweet kiss. “Can I show you? Help you feel good? Will you let me do that?”

Your whole body grows hot at this question, and you simply nod.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes, Harry. Can you show me?”

“Of course. C’mere,” he says as his hands go to your hips. He gently presses down until your panty-covered pussy meets his jeans-clad thigh. There’s a spark again and Harry says, “Just do what feels natural. I’ll help, but you should follow your body's instincts. It might be a bit strange at first, and we’ll stop if you’re uncomfortable, but it will lead to pleasure if we do it right. Okay?”

“Okay,” you reply as you lean back in for another kiss. It quickly grows heated once again, Harry’s tongue sliding along yours. You quickly feel that heated, restless feeling and press down on Harry’s leg.

His strong hands grip your sides and he encourages you to move. You begin to slide on his leg, going back and forth the way Harry leads you. As the pressure builds in your tummy you break away from the kiss in order to take in a gasping breath.

“Doing so good, baby. Just take what you need,” Harry says to encourage you. He presses kisses to your head before moving down. His lips ghost against your neck and suddenly the feeling in your core grows.

You begin to lose the rhythm that Harry had helped you with, your hips not frantically moving of their own accord as you chase the feeling building in you. Harry kisses your neck, just under your ear and the feeling inside of you explodes.

Your breath comes out as harsh pants as waves of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. Harry soothes you through it, rubbing his hands over your skin as he murmurs sweet words.

When the intense feeling starts to subside you begin to grow self conscious of what just happened. You hide your face in Harry’s neck, and while he’d rather be able to see your face right now, he understands what you’re feeling.

“You did so good, baby,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, good? I think?”

“I understand. It’s a lot huh?”

“It felt like, hot all over? But not bad. I liked it,” you say shyly.

“I’m glad. I promise, this is nothing to be scared of. I know it’s all new, but it’s good. As I said before, we’ll go at your pace as we add in different things.”

“Thank you for being so understanding, Harry. It really means a lot. Makes me feel better about being so inexperienced.”

“Hey, never feel bad about that. It’s not a bad thing.”

The two of you share a smile as you become more aware of your body. You notice how damp your panties feel, and suddenly jump off of his lap, worried that some of the wetness might have leaked through. You stand in front of the couch and look down to see a small but undeniable wet spot on his jeans where you had been sitting.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say, mortified by the sight.

“Hey what’s wrong, what happened?” He’s obviously concerned by your reaction, worried that he did something to make you uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “Your pants. They’re wet. I got them wet.”

“This is what you’re worried about?” He asks, his finger touching the wet spot and you want to hide in shame. “Y/N, look at me.” You do as he says and he continues, “This is not a problem. It’s nothing to worry about. On the contrary, it’s actually quite hot. Truthfully it’s caused another problem down there.”

Your expression turns back to confusion until he points to what he’s talking about. And then it clicks. He means the bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there when he sat down earlier.

“Oh,” you say. “Should I uhm, do you want me to-”

“Not today sweetheart. Today is about you. I’m just going to splash some cool water on my face and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply and he stands up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he heads to the bathroom. You run into your bedroom to change into fresh panties and then grab more water from the kitchen.

The two of you meet back in the living room and Harry casually says, “Wanna watch a couple episodes of Parks and Rec?”

Just like that, Harry makes everything normal again. You spend another hour together, Harry holding you close. Eventually though, it’s time to say goodbye once again. One long kiss is shared at the door, and then he drives away, leaving you alone now with your thoughts.

And those thoughts are primarily about Harry. For the next couple weeks, your mind is constantly replaying how it felt to kiss him so deeply, to be held so closely. How it felt to have an orgasm for the first time.

You try to recreate the feeling yourself. Harry had mentioned that a lot of girls can get off by doing the same thing you did against a pillow, but it doesn’t have the same effect. Maybe you need the connection in order to feel pleasure. Maybe you just want Harry to be there. He made you feel so at ease, but doing it yourself just seems awkward, uncomfortable.

You and Harry see each other a few more times, but always out in public. Until one night the plans change at the last minute and you end up meeting at his house.

“I’m sorry again that we can’t go to the restaurant,” he says when you get there.

“Harry, it’s okay. I completely understand,” you reassure him. And you do understand. He’d explained the situation, how word had gotten out that Harry Styles would be dining at Le Petit Chateau and now the place was swarmed with fans and paparazzi. “I’m just glad we were given a heads up instead of walking into that craziness,” you continue.

“I completely agree. I did come up with a backup plan though, so I think we can still save this evening,” he replies.

“Harry, every evening with you is a good one. I don’t care what we do when we’re together,” you state. His face breaks out into a smile and he coyly looks down. You’re enamored by how shy he can sometimes be, this mega popstar who can own the stage but gets so bashful in his own home.

He’s flustered but manages to lead you to the kitchen, where two glasses of wine are waiting on the large island.

“I uh, thought I’d make dinner instead. But I had to do a grocery delivery and it just got here so nothing is ready,” he explains.

“So what you’re saying is we get to cook together? Sounds fun to me!”

He smiles, again, brightly this time, before clinking your glasses together and leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Let’s get to it then,” he says and turns towards the ingredients. He puts on some music and the two of you move around the kitchen making dinner together. When you sit at the dining table to eat you’re both impressed by how delicious it is, commenting that the night is going even better than it would have been if the original plans had been possible.

After cleaning the dishes you move to the living room, where the lights are dim and music is playing quietly in the background. You’re seated on the couch, tucked into Harry’s side, and without preamble, he leans down to connect his lips to yours.

It quickly becomes heated, and before you know it you’re once again straddling his leg with his hands on your waist. Just like last time, he gently presses down, encouraging you to grind against him, but you pull back.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yea, I’m okay. I was just thinking, last time I was the only one to, you know, finish. I was hoping maybe this time we can do something else? Something to give each other pleasure,” you explain.

He listens and nods along before saying, “Why don’t we go to my bedroom to have some more space, get comfy?”

“Yea, that sounds good. But, I’m not ready for like, going all the way yet,” you say nervously.

“Don’t worry, I was thinking there are some fun things we can do with our hands,” he says smirking.

Your face heats up at the implication; truthfully, a warm flush runs through your entire body. He plants his feet on the floor and shifts you so that your legs are around his waist. “Hold on tight,” he says, the only warning he gives before standing from the couch with you wrapped around him. You gasp in surprise, another wave of arousal running through you at this show of his strength.

You can’t wait until you get to your destination, the need to kiss him is too strong. He’s surprised by the force with which your mouth meets his, but not bothered, and he matches your enthusiasm gladly. He makes his way to his bedroom, pulling away from the kiss a few times to make sure you get there safely.

When you arrive, he gently places you down on the bed, climbing up so that his body is pressed on top of yours. He’s holding himself up so as to not crush you, but you still feel him above you, every point of contact burning with electricity.

He kisses you again, slow this time, like he’s trying to learn everything he can about you through the kiss. He swallows your soft sighs, his plush lips brushing so softly against yours. Pulling away, Harry starts pressing kisses along the column of your neck. This alone has you whimpering, and Harry murmurs, “God, I love how sensitive you are.”

It’s such a strange compliment to you that you let out a small laugh, releasing some of your nervous energy. He continues to work at your neck, sucking lightly and creating a new sensation that has your eyes rolling back and wetness seeping from your core.

He continues to pepper kisses on your skin, but his hands go to the button on your jeans.

“Can I take these off, baby?”

You take a deep breath and say, “Okay, yea.”

Hearing the hesitation in your voice he asks, “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m just overthinking it. I mean, no one has seen me naked before, or like, not since I was a baby you know? It’s just, new,” you explain.

“We don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable.”

You think for a moment, trying to figure out what you want but Harry speaks again, suggesting, “What if we keep shirts on, would that help?”

“Yea, I think it would,” you say with a smile. “That wouldn’t be silly?”

“It’s not silly if it makes you feel at ease.”

“Alright. Let’s do that then.”

He leans back in for another sweet kiss, then gently removes your jeans. Before you can get too in your head, he stands off the bed to remove his own pants, effectively distracting you from your own self-consciousness. You sit up against the headboard to watch as his long legs are revealed to you. Your heart rate increases and your eyes travel up to his thick thighs, and then are magnetically pulled to the large bulge in his boxer briefs.

The nerves come back as you unintentionally stare at him. It seems bigger than you thought it could be. Not that you have anything to compare it to, but really, the size is still surprising.

Harry notices where your attention is, but rather than tease you which is his first instinct, he thinks about how intimidating this all is for you. He climbs back on the bed, kneeling next to your outstretched legs. His hand rubs calming circles on your shin and he asks, “What are you thinking right now?”

“Are you like, bigger than average? Or are all guys that big?”

Now he can’t help but laugh, though he quickly composes himself and says, “Yes, I would be considered bigger than average.”

His hand starts to move up your leg, getting closer to touching a place that has never been touched by anyone else, and you shift away slightly. He quickly pulls back, not wanting to cross any lines, and you're grateful for how attuned he seems to be to you.

“You said there’s something we can do with our hands to give each other pleasure, right?” you ask.

“I did,” he replies.

“How would I go about uhm, giving you pleasure?” Hearing how uncertain you sound, you say, “God, I’m sorry, this is supposed to be sexy and I’m just so clueless-”

“Hey, none of that,” he says as he moves to sit beside you, his legs stretched out next to yours. “You may be inexperienced, but I don’t care, okay? I don’t care that you need me to talk you through this. I am more than happy to teach you, got it?”

“Got it.”

Hesitantly, you place your hand on his thigh. You’re still for a moment before you start to slide higher up his leg, until it’s touching the waistband of his underwear. You look at him, asking a silent question to which he replies, “You can take them off.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. Harry senses your hesitation and puts his hands on top of yours, helping you remove the fabric until he’s completely bare from the waist down. He watches your reaction, notices how your eyes go wide with a mix of surprise and lust. He turns to grab a bottle of lube from the bedside table, giving himself a second to breathe. He didn’t expect just how much your big, doe eyes would turn him on, but seeing you discover all of this is somehow acting like an aphrodisiac to him.

You shift so that you’re kneeling next to him, resting both of your hands on his thigh, your eyes flickering between Harry’s face and his hard cock.

“You can touch,” he says. “Feel free to get familiar, explore a little bit.”

Following his direction, you gently run a finger along his length, too scared to do more just yet. You go from the base, all the way until you gently swirl around the tip, and he can’t keep in his gasp of pleasure at the feeling.

Scared that you’d done something wrong, you pull your hand back.

“That’s good, baby. Felt good,” Harry says. “Try wrapping your hand around it.” Again, you listen to the instruction and gently grip his length. “A little tighter, you won’t hurt me,” he says. He hisses in satisfaction when you do as he said. You glance up to his face just in time to see his eyes slip shut and his lips part.

You spend a moment just feeling him under you, surprised by how firm he is while somehow still being soft to the touch. He opens his eyes and watches as you practically study this new appendage. He’s again surprised by how incredibly hot he’s finding the whole situation. Never before has anyone been so focused, so curious.

After a little while he says, “Let me put a little of this on, it’ll help.”

You move your hand away and watch as he drizzles some lube onto his cock, stroking himself a few times to coat his whole length. You watch what he does, taking note of the way he moves his hand, how tightly he holds himself, how he seems to twist his wrist occasionally.

You reach out again, and he moves away so you can take over.

“Just tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” you say.

“You won’t. Do what feels natural, and I’ll give tips if you need them,” he replies.

You begin to stroke him, gripping tight and twisting just as you’d seen him do. Harry’s panting breaths and little moans encourage you, let you know you must be doing something right.

“You can uhm, change up the pace. Go faster for a bit, then go slow,” he says, and you try that as well, loving his reaction as you do so.

Growing more curious, and more bold, you use your other hand to gently touch his testicles that are laying against his leg. Harry sucks in a shaking breath, which you take as a good sign. “Try rolling them in your hand,” he says, “and you can squeeze them, gently though.”

You focus on doing that for a moment before realizing that you’d completely let go of his cock. You refocus and try to maintain stimulation everywhere, and the loud moan from Harry tells you that you must be succeeding.

“Just like that baby, feels perfect, just keep going.”

His breathing grows heavier, his moans more frequent, but his eyes stay fixed on you. He’s watching every move you make, and notices your furrowed brow when liquid starts to bubble out of his tip.

“Stop just a second,” he says, his voice breathless.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. I just wanted to give you a heads up on what’s about to happen. That liquid is precum,” he says.

“Oh! So you’re going to…”

“Come, yea. Soon,” he says with a chuckle. “I just wanted to give you a heads up that it’s going to get a little messy.”

“Well, thank you for the warning,” you say and both of you laugh. Something about the fact that you’re both able to joke even in the middle of an intimate moment makes you feel so comfortable, so secure in this relationship.

You lean in for a kiss and start moving your hands again, picking up where you left off. The kiss grows more intense as he nears his orgasm, and suddenly he pulls away, a loud groan leaving his mouth. His eyes roll shut and he tips his head back. You feel his cock start to twitch and you watch as ropes of cum shoot out and land on your hand.

While Harry catches his breath your eyes scan his body. You watch as his cock slowly softens, as his breaths return to normal. Finally, he opens his eyes and leans in for another sweet kiss.

“That was amazing, love,” he says.

“Thank you,” you reply bashfully. It feels so odd to be complimented on a handjob well done, but at the same time it does boost your confidence.

Harry leans in for a quick kiss and says, “I’ll be back in one second.” He gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom, coming back with a few wet washcloths. He uses one to clean up, and notices you looking at the others.

“Just wanted to be prepared,” he says.

“Prepared for what?”

“For after I make you come,” he states matter of factly.

“Oh. Good idea,” you reply and you both begin to laugh again. “Thank you for not taking this so seriously.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“I like that we can joke and laugh even during these intimate moments. Makes it less awkward.”

“I agree. I’ve always thought that sex should be something fun, not so serious.”

He leans in, once again gently cupping your face and kissing you. You admit to yourself that making out with Harry is quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

His hand moves to your thigh, fingers tickling the inside and making you squirm. He slowly moves up, until he’s hovering over your underwear.

He pulls away from the kiss just far enough to ask, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes, you can touch,” you reply, your lips still brushing even as you speak to one another.

“Spread your legs a little bit, okay baby?”

“Okay,” you answer as you relax your legs, letting them separate enough for Harry to slide his hand in between. He rubs against your pussy, and when he touches a certain spot, you moan loudly and grip his arm.

“Feels good there, huh?” He asks and you only nod in reply. “This is the clitoris, a wonderful little bundle of nerves that will make you feel really good if you stimulate it just right,” he explains. “This alone can make you come, but it feels even better when you have something inside of you, something to clench around.”

You realize where he’s going with this, what the next step will be, and say, “I’ve never had anything inside me except tampons. Will it hurt?”

“If done properly it shouldn’t hurt. One finger’s roughly the same size as a tampon, and I’ll make sure you’re well lubricated. Would you like to try? You don’t have to, and we can stop at any time.”

“I want to try.” Even you’re surprised by how sure you sound. But even though you’re nervous, you need to try it someday. And here, with Harry, you feel so safe. Not only that, you want to be that close to him, feel him inside of you even if it is only a finger.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, touching the waistband of your panties. You nod and shift again so that he can slide them down your legs.

Instinctively, you clench your legs again in an effort to hide yourself, but noticing this, Harry says, “Please don’t hide yourself from me.”

Slowly, you relax once more and you hear Harry say, “You’re perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.”

You’re overwhelmed by the sincerity and duck down. Sensing you need a moment, Harry simply rubs circles on your leg once more and then again asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice breathy this time. His finger runs through your fold and up to your clit, and you gasp at the feeling. He starts rubbing circles just like earlier, but it’s more intense now that it’s direct contact.

After a few minutes of his working you up like this he moves away and you whine in complaint. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says with a light chuckle. “Just grabbing some lube. Technically you’re wet enough, but since it’s your first time I want to be extra safe. It might feel a little cold,” he adds in warning before drizzling some of the liquid on his fingers and touching you again.

“I’m gonna slide in now, nice and slow okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you as he lines his finger up with your entrance. Just like he promised, he moves slowly until his finger is fully inside of you, and you don’t feel any pain as he does it. It feels a little weird, but when he starts to move it in and out while his thumb circles your clit, you can see why people enjoy this.

“How’s that feel?”

“I like it,” you say, before you cut yourself off with a loud moan. You have no idea what happened, what Harry just did differently, but you absolutely need him to do it again.

“Right there huh?” He says and you feel that same spark of pleasure. He continues moving both the finger inside you and the thumb rubbing your clit, and soon enough everything peaks.

You ride out the waves of your orgasm, your walls clenching around Harry’s finger, and yea, that feels as good as he said it would. As you start to come down from the high you gently hold the back of Harry’s head and pull him down so you can tuck your face into his neck. You’re craving security and closeness, and Harry is happy to comply.

“I’m gonna pull out now,” he warns and you feel oddly empty when his hand is gone. You know it was only one finger, but you still had felt so full. You can’t imagine what it will feel like when his actual dick is inside of you.

Harry places soft kisses to your neck until your hold on him loosens. He picks up one of the cloths he’d set aside earlier and starts to clean between your legs. “I’ll be right back,” he says before heading to the bathroom to wash his hands.

When he gets back he finds you sitting cross legged in bed, and he can’t help but be enamored by you. You’re not doing anything special, but somehow you’re so adorable, so effortlessly attractive to him.

He grabs himself fresh boxers and then sits next to you on the bed.

“Would you like to stay here with me tonight?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment, and while you hadn’t planned on sleeping over, you’re realizing you really don’t want to leave his side right now. Having him inside you had you rather vulnerable, and you don’t want to be alone tonight. Spending the night in his bed sounds like the perfect plan.

“I’d like that,” you reply. He smiles and gets back up, grabbing some clean clothes for you to wear. As he hands them to you he says, “This is gonna sound weird, but you should probably go pee.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s doctor recommended that women pee after sex of any kind. Something about bacteria, I can’t quite remember.”

“Are you messing with me?”

He laughs and replies, “I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Alright then, if you say so.”

You head into the bathroom to pee and get dressed, and you take in your appearance in the mirror. Your hair is just a little messed up, your cheeks flushed and your eyes bright. It’s weird to note this physical change, and how it reflects how you feel on the inside: bright and just a little more daring than before.

Harry’s not in the bedroom when you get back, but a second later he walks in with water, snacks, and both of your phones which had been left downstairs earlier.

“Movie night in bed?” He suggests, and you nod enthusiastically. The two of you spend the rest of the evening snuggled together, watching films and talking. You don’t feel yourself getting drowsy, but the next thing Harry knows, you’re asleep curled into his side.

He lowers the volume of the movie, remembering you once mentioned that you sleep with TV on, and he carefully shifts the two of you so that you’re comfortably laying in bed. He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, and is lulled to sleep by the sound of your deep breaths.

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Taglist: @lizsogolden @daphnesutton @kissitnhekitchen

AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far!

[barcaatthemoon]

‘I can’t be just friends anymore’ - georgia stanway

two best friendsNd || georgia stanway x reader ||

"G, hurry up! We're not gonna wait at the airport all day!" Keira shouted as you and Georgia made your way through the airport. You were a few paces ahead of Georgia, and turned to see her absolutely struggling with her bag. Quickly, you turned around and grabbed the problematic suitcase in question for her.

"Thanks mate," Georgia said to you. You just sort of shrugged it off and continued on your way. You hadn't necessarily grown up with Keira, but you knew her well enough to know that she was at the end of her patience. You had, however, grown up with Leah, who looked equally annoyed.

"Alright, bring it in." You set your bags down and opened up your arms. Leah knew that you wouldn't leave without a hug, so she was the first to come over to you. Keira was a lot more reluctant, claiming at first that you were covered in airport germs, to which you just pulled your sweatshirt off for her.

"Keira's got my spare room, so G you can take my couch if you want it," Leah offered. Both of you shook your heads, having made accommodations with your mother weeks ago. She had been bothering both of you about staying with her for your little holiday break, at least for a few days before you went up north with Georgia to visit her family.

"My mum's got everything set up for the two of us," you told her. Leah and Keira shared a look, one that you didn't quite catch them directing at Georgia. You happily went along your way, more than excited to spend a couple of days at home with your family and best friend.

It didn't matter to you that you saw Georgia every single day in Germany, you had gotten used to her always being around. The two of you were just friends, something that you had to constantly remind yourself of. Your brain had twisted things a little, trying to trick you into sensing feelings that couldn't possibly be mutually shared.

"Why is there only one bed?" Georgia asked, a slightly panicked look on her face. Everybody returned home for the holidays, and so, you and Georgia had to share your childhood bedroom. Where your brothers' room had bunk beds, you had always been graced with your own room.

"Because I didn't ever have to share. Come on G, this will be fine," you said as you sat back on the mattress. The longer that you looked at Georgia, the more you realized that something was really stressing her out about this. "W-what's so wrong with sharing a bed with me?"

"It's not that, it's not you. This is a perfectly normal thing for friends to do, but I kind of had this whole big thing planned out to tell you at New Years at my mum's, but fuck it! I can't be just friends with you anymore," Georgia sighed. She fell back onto the bed next to you, her chest heaving like she was on the verge of a panic attack. "Please say something so I know I didn't make a huge mistake."

"To be clear, this is because you like me too much romantically, not because you suddenly hate me?" you asked her. Georgia sat up a little and shot you an absolutely puzzled look.

"Of course it's because I like you too much. Are you dense?" Georgia asked. You smiled at her briefly before her words registered in your head. "Sorry, sorry. That was sort of mean. I don't really know what to do now."

"Well, I also really like you, and I don't want you to run off so quickly. I think that we should keep going about this like we planned, just maybe with a few more locked doors," you told her.

"Why would we need to lock the door?" Georgia asked you. The realization seemed to settle in as you cupped her cheeks and leaned in to kiss her. You knew that Georgia wouldn't leave it at a simple kiss, so you were fully prepared for the little flick of her tongue against your bottom lip. Almost as if on cue, your older brothers barged right into your room to pull the two of you downstairs for cookie decorating.

"I'm telling Mum that you were kissing G," your oldest brother teased as he ran ahead of you. You took off in a sprint after him, leaving Georgia with your other brother, who was thankfully much calmer.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

can I request a Vox x reader fluff where they've both been struggling to come to terms with their feelings but when something (you can decide what) happens and the reader gets hurt really badly, he confesses

ANOOOOOOOOON!! YOU. GET ME. SO GOOD. HOW DARE YOU HIT ME UP WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES?? Literally, give this trope to me as many times as yall want. I'll find a million ways to write it. Reap the repercussions and enjoy the food you beautiful homie, you!

Star-Crossed Idiots [Vox x Reader]

Vox refused to believe it.

Velvette had been the one to call him out on his shit first. Unlike him, she had a semblance of emotional maturity that meant she was perceptive to shit that flew over his head entirely. While he didn't understand why he found himself going out of his way to spend time with you, Velvette figured it out in a matter of days. The very fact that he had kept his involvement with you a secret was suspicious in itself. Not to mention, Velvette realized before he did. When she discovered his feelings for you, she found it hilarious. And a touch pathetic.

"I mean really Vox, you have zero reason to even know them," Velvette scoffed as she sipped on the frappuccino he had used to buy her silence. Things were already messy enough with Valentino. He had no intention of the pissy moth hearing of this until whatever this was, was sorted.

"Yet you constantly check in on their phone activity, go out of your way to run into them on the streets, and now they're even working for you just because your needy ass wanted an excuse to see them on the regular," Velvette listed as Vox did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

Vox buried his face in his hands and groaned while Velvette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask them out at this point? I love you, darling, but you're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"No," Vox growled as he looked up and shot her a warning glare. "Do you have any idea how much shit we'd be in if I just started dating some random sinner? And that's only if the feelings were mutual."

He ran his hand down his screen with a huff, turning to look at Vark swimming up to the glass. While Vox had originally had the aquarium extend to the meeting rooms for a sense of looming intimidation, he'd found quite a bit of comfort in his sharks being able to follow him through the tower.

"Look, for all we know, I'm just pent up," Vox tried to reason. It sounded fake, even to his own ears, but he was in denial. There was too much bullshit he'd have to face if he really was as whipped for you as he feared. "It's been a shit couple of weeks. I probably just need a break and a good fuck and this will all be something you make fun of me about next week for ever entertaining in the first place."

Velvette shook her head, sighing as she pulled out her phone and started to scroll.

"Whatever you say."

---

You refused to believe it.

There was no way you fell for Vox of all people. For starters, you told yourself you'd never love again! Every time you'd tried, disaster followed. It didn't help that any potential match was one to be made in Hell. Granted, you knew not everyone in Hell was bad. There were a lot of sinners who you firmly believed belonged in Heaven or some sort of equivalent.

But even so... Vox was definitely not one of those people. Not that that was the important part or truly mattered. You were no saint either, you were also in Hell.

"I don't see what the big deal is toots," Angel Dust sighed as he watched you give Fat Nuggets attention to keep your hands busy through the stress. "There are worse people to have a crush on."

"There's better too," you whined. "I'd rather not have a crush at all," you muttered bitterly as your hand continued the soothing action of petting the teacup pig.

You'd originally been on the production team for one of Valentino's studios. That was how you befriended Angel Dust and why Vox scooped you out from under Valentino to work on his own set. He told you it was because he valued someone who had an ear for audio balance, but Angel said he'd only offered you the new job after the overlord walked in on the cameraman flirting with you right before.

"Why not just fuck the guy and see if it's a matter of heart or a matter of-"

You laughed as you covered Angel's mouth with one of your hands. "Okay, okay! Don't... finish that sentence. I won't let you taint poor little Fat Nuggets ears with your porn language."

Angel snickered as you pulled back your hand. "But you see my point, right?"

"I do," you sighed. "But that's... not really my style. If anything, I think it'd just hurt to see him after something like a casual fling. The idea of him wanting my body, but not me? Yeah no. I'll choose the healthier option of repressing my feelings, thank you very much."

"I'm telling ya, he's into you," Angel groaned. "I've seen the way he is with people he thinks are hot. I've seen him with Val. You're different, toots."

You smile sadly at Angel and put Fat Nuggets down on the bed. It was clear you didn't believe Angel and he was on the verge of ripping out his fur because of it. The two of you were so unbelievably oblivious it was gonna kill him again. "Thanks, Angie but... it's okay. Really, it is."

He sighed and eventually let it go. The two of you talked about other things for a while before Charlie peeked into his room to ask for your help on something. Once you were gone, he rolled over the conversation in his mind as he tried to think of ways to get the ball rolling on your love life.

Angel shook his head with a sigh and pulled out his phone. He scooped up Fat Nuggets and flopped back in his bed as the dialing sound filled the room. The line connected, and he was quick to the point.

"Hey, I know we don't really talk, but I've got an idea."

---

"Really Angie, I don't think this was necessary," You grumbled as you tugged down on the all-too-short skirt of the outfit he'd squeezed you into.

"Oh, but it was and it is," Angel grinned as he took your hand and twirled you in the entry hall to the club. You rolled your eyes and let him spin you in jest. He'd asked you to come with him to one of your old coworkers' birthday parties.

Apparently, one of the rules was to dress like you'd get hired to dance at the club. At least, that had been Angel's excuse when you questioned why he was hovering over you as he did your hair, and makeup and held up several outfits to your body that you doubted would fit.

Despite the discomfort of getting all dolled up, you were happy he'd invited you. It had been a while since you saw your old friends. That being said, it would have been more fun if you weren't tugging down your skirt every two minutes. You weren't the only one hyperaware of how much of your skin was exposed. Nor of the way the fabric hugged your frame tightly. Several of your old friends had suggested you return to the studio with a job in front of the camera instead of in the shadows of the set.

You'd been having a good time, sticking to the corner of the room with some of your old friends to watch the drinks while the rest were out on the dance floor. One of the drunker sinners of the bunch accidentally knocked over some of the drinks while she'd been telling a story about the recent cam show she did. You volunteered to go get more napkins from the bar. One of your friends came with you to reorder the ruined drinks and the two of you had nearly pushed your way through the crowd when you heard a familiar voice call your name through the noise.

Vox didn't have to fight through the crowd the way you had. The second sinners saw the glow of his screen, they were quick to move out of his path. Your friend touched your arm, pulling your attention away from the approaching overlord. They winked at you and told you they had the drink issue handled.

When you turned, you caught Vox's screen flickering from pink to his usual blue. You had never seen any color other than the "You don't get to sleep" blue light, so you assumed it was just a trick of the flashing dance lights above.

"I didn't think you'd be here," you say to break the tension. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him in casual wear, nor was it the first time you'd seen Vox since realizing you had feelings for him. Even so, your heart was beating hard just from the sight of him.

"A-Ah yeah, well," Vox stammered as the music blared through the busy room. "Velvette wanted to drop by. She said something about wanting to check the place out as a potential venue for an upcoming show."

"Just the two of you?" you ask, perking up slightly.

"It was supposed to be," Vox chuckled dryly. His grin was tired and forced as he looked to the side and scanned the room. "Valentino heard we were coming here and tagged along. I don't know why, but Velvette got really heated about it. Something about him fucking up her plans..."

"Oh," your shoulders drop. You cringe internally, wishing you could take back the bitterness in your voice. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, but the way Vox was looking at you like you were some sort of a puzzle told you everything you needed to know.

You actually loved Velevette. She was sassy and cutthroat but had a kind side to her as well. Valentino however... He'd been the source of a lot of suffering for the people you cared about. While the more obvious examples of Angel Dust returning to the hotel looking like shit came to mind, so did the times you had to comfort Vox after being yanked this way and that by the moth emotionally.

That was actually how you'd realized you'd come to care for him as deeply as you do. He'd been standing alone in one of the meeting rooms with a distant look on his face. When you found him and asked him if he was okay, he tried to play it off with his usual bravado, but couldn't. He never cried in front of you, he only vented his frustrations about Valentino and you listened. You sympathized. And eventually, you found yourself wishing you could be the one to treat him better.

Vox opened his mouth to say something, only for Valentino to slip his arm around his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere from the crowd.

"There you are baby," he purred, his fingers immediately slipping under the collar of Vox's vest. You resisted the urge to gag as Valentino took a long puff from his pipe and blew the majority of the smoke in your direction.

"I was wondering where you up and fucked off to," Valentino grinned as he leaned down to nip drunkenly at Vox's shoulder. "You left me all alone with our little fashionista, "Valentino scoffed. "She's in such a bitchy mood."

If it wasn't bad enough that Valentino was practically drooling all over Vox in front of you and pretending you weren't there, insult was only added to injury when Valentino grinned at you with sharp teeth when he called Velvette bitchy.

"Come back and unwind with me," Valentino hummed as he started to kiss up Vox's neck. "Some of my best toys are here tonight. Don't you want to play?"

If Vox had any doubt he was in Hell before, he had every reason to confirm the fact at this moment. He'd fallen out of love with Valentino, but the almost... the almost killed him. To make it worse, he was completely frozen, letting it all happen in front of you. He made no moves to stop Valentino, he made no moves to reciprocate. He simply froze.

Unable to watch any longer as Vox continued to fall for the very same game of tug-o-war he told you he was done with, you bite your lip and turn on your heel. You can't tell if you heard Vox say your name or if it was just a trick of the crowd.

"Anyone else gonna drink this?" You asked as you rejoined your friends still at the table and pointed to one of the more full glasses left on the table. When your friends who were sober enough to answer said you could go for it, you tossed it back in one shot.

You griped to one of your friends who had stayed behind to watch over those too drunk to make good choices. The two of you had been having a damn good venting session about how stupid you felt your feelings were when the entire bar swayed. Your words slurred as your body grew heavy.

One second you were sitting up, wondering why your friend looked so concerned. The next second there was a sharp pain against the temple of your forehead, followed by a heavy thunk, more pain, and darkness.

---

Vox had been desperately searching the dance floor for any sign of you. He'd torn away from Valentino and the moth hadn't bothered to follow. Vox would... handle that another time. For as much as he denied his feelings for you this morning, the second he saw the hurt look in your eyes he knew he had to tell you. There was no way he could ignore the sharp lurch in his chest at the sight of you.

He didn't know what it meant. He couldn't tell if it was just a sense of betrayal after he'd been so open with you about Valentino or if it was something more. Every time he found himself wanting to talk about his true feelings on anything, he wanted to talk to you. Every time he had a rare second alone in the middle of the night, the only touch he craved was yours. Yes, he had a history with Valentino, but he didn't actively want that. He wanted you.

He finally spotted you across the room, sitting at a table with one of the whores he'd seen at Valentino's studio and getting way too close to them for his liking. He made his way through the drunken idiots who were too far gone to notice him, keeping his eyes on you as you started swaying dangerously.

You tried to reach down for something on the table and Vox swore as you lost what little balance you had and fell over. Someone got in his way so he didn't see the impact, but somehow he heard it. Through all the noise he heard the sharp thud and the panicked swearing of the person you were with after.

Vox was suddenly shoving every idiot out of his way, ignoring their shouts as he ran into the small clearing and found you on the ground with blood seeping from your head. He was immediately on his knees, scooping you up as the sinner who'd been with you started freaking out.

The only thing Vox could hear was a high-pitched whine as he pulled you to him and tried to frantically find where you were bleeding from. Half of your head was dripping with blood and he vaguely registered your friend saying your head had hit the edge of the table.

"Just s̴̢̃ḧ̸̺u̸͇͋t̷̯͂ ̷̬̂u̶͖̓p̵̳͗!̶̳͌," Vox snapped as he whipped up and affixed the sinner with a violent glare. He didn't care that half the club was looking at him. For once, he didn't care that he'd made a scene. Logically, he knew something like this couldn't kill you, you were all already dead. But his hands were shaking violently and the buzzing in his head was getting louder because you weren't moving.

Everything around him flashed with bright blue light as he held you close and teleported out of the club without even thinking about it. The two of you reappeared in his room back at the tower and he let out a shaky breath as he placed you down on his bed.

Not knowing what to do, Vox quickly crossed the room and threw his bathroom door open as he searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He was muttering furiously as he nearly ripped the hinges off the cupboard under the sink looking for anything he could use.

Vox let out a loud, angry shout as his body kept glitching. His movements were jerky and he'd hit his head on the sink twice now. Just as he was about to have an absolute meltdown, he heard you groan from his bedroom. His head snapped up and he turned around at the sound of your voice so fast he was surprised he didn't snap his own neck.

Vox yanked a towel off of the wall and scrambled across the nylon tiles as he fell into his room with all the grace of a CEO that he clearly had. He swore, picking himself up and coming over to you as you sat up and clutched your head.

"Shit, that stuff was stronger than I thought," you groaned. "Note to self, don't just chug random alcohol at the club." you tried to laugh, only to hiss as the pain in your head doubled down due to the movement.

"You're a fucking idiot," Vox sighed as he sat down next to you and lifted the towel to your head.

You flinched at the contact, and Vox grabbed your wrist with his free hand. "Stay still," he frowned, pressing again on the wound. "You're still bleeding."

Trying not to do more damage, you stay as still as possible while he tries to stop the bleeding. The silence is heavy between the two of you before you mumble quietly.

"Sorry..."

Vox blinks, frowning down at you. "For what?"

You avoid eye contact the best you can given your current condition and fist your hands on your thighs nervously. "For acting like an idiot. You've told me about how hard it is with Valentino. I should've said or done something and not have gotten..."

"Upset?" Vox finished for you quietly. You flinched, unable to read the tone in his voice. He sighed and slowly lifted the towel from your head, before lowering it. "Why did you?"

"It's stupid," you bite your lip, hand drifting up curiously to see how bad the wound is. Before your fingers could brush against your hair, Vox's hand grabbed your wrists again.

"Try me."

You couldn't say if it was due to the pain, blood loss, or alcohol in your system, but the moment you finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, you said fuck it. Vox gasped as you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. He'd barely had a chance to process the feeling before you were already turned away from him and rambling some bullshit about how you knew he didn't feel the same.

He took your hand, ignoring the anxious nonsense flowing from your mouth, and lifted it to his lips. Your speech died on your tongue as his lips pressed against the palm of your hand.

"Do you have any idea how much you've been on my mind?" He growled softly, his lips trailing up your arm slowly as he practically worshiped your skin.

If it wasn't for the fact that your blood was still on his hands, Vox would have been so much more rough with you. He would have grabbed you and crashed his lips against yours. He would have torn the fabric that hugged your curves so tightly off of your body and shown you just how badly he'd been needing you.

Instead, he made do with tracing his claw under your chin and guiding you to face him properly. His eyes searched yours for any doubt or sign that you'd acted purely on adrenaline and not something more. When your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed, he knew. As he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, as his arms snaked down and pulled you flush against him like you'd break, as your fingers found a home in his vest he knew.

You wanted him too. You fell for him too. This wasn't a game of "do they, don't they" like the one he'd played with Valentino for so fucking long.

His breath hitched, his arms tightening around you before he slowly pulled back and laughed breathlessly.

"Does this mean we're dating?" you ask, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"God that sounds cheesy," Vox grimaced. The phrase felt so... high school bullshit. But it wasn't wrong. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He reached down, hesitating before his clawed hand gently covered yours. "But yeah... I guess it does," he smiled softer than you'd ever seen before.

[wosostories]

Heath Sisters PT 4 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Reader and Tobin spend some more time with the team.

Part 4

As soon as the hotel room door closes Y/N wraps her arms around her sister and buries her head into her chest. 

“It’s ok Kid. It’s going to be ok.” 

“They were really loud.”

“I know.”

“Can we finish our nap now? Please.” Y/N's voice strained as she tried to keep herself from crying. 

“Ya kid we can. I’m sorry today has been so overwhelming for you.” Y/N just shook her head and curled up next to Tobin on the bed. 

It wasn’t too long after that Y/N was asleep again. Tobin, however, couldn’t fall back asleep. The only thing running through her mind was how she was going to get through the next two weeks without someone finding out about their pasts.

It was another hour later that Y/N started to stir. Calling out to her sister in the midst of a nightmare. “Toby… Toby. Make them stop. Please, make them stop. Toby…”

“It’s ok it’s ok. No one here is going to hurt you. You aren’t there anymore, I’ve got you.” Tobin pulled her sister into her lap and rested her head against her chest stroking her hair in hopes to calm her down. Tobin started rocking her when tears started streaking down her face. 

It took another few minutes for Y/N to open her eyes and willingly curl in further to her sister. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, how long till dinner?”

“About half an hour, we should start getting ready soon.”

Y/N nods against her sister, “A few more minutes?”

Tobin sits up and gathers her sister in her arms, “Whatever you want Y/N. Whatever you want.”

The sisters spend another 10 minutes snuggled into each other. Tobin sighs, “Come on kid, let's get ready for dinner. We don’t want to be late. Remember what they said earlier, you get all the good stuff if you get there first.”  

The sisters make their way out of bed and spend the next few minutes cleaning themselves up. 

“Do you think they’re going to yell again?” Y/N asks. 

“I don’t think so. They should have settled down at this point.” Y/N nods. They head down to the meal room. There are already a few members of the staff there when they arrive, but none of the team members. 

“I knew I made the right decision bringing you into the squad.” Jill commented following the sisters into the meal room. They gave her a confused look. Jill chuckled, “You are going to be the only one of the girls here on time, which confuses me to no end seeing as they all love food.” 

Jill continues to walk into the room and joins more of the training staff at their table. Tobin and Y/N make their way to one of the open tables and wait for the rest of the team and dinner to be served. The next one of the girls came in 5 minutes after dinner was supposed to start. It took another 10 minutes for the entire team to show up. As soon as the last two showed up, Kelley and Sonny, dinner was brought out. 

They ended up sitting with a couple of the more veteran players Krieger, Kilng, Becky, Abby, A rod, and Cheney. 

“Ah come on, I wanted to sit with the newbie.” Kelley complained as she finally made her way into the room. 

“Well then you should have been on time. Now sit down so we can eat.” Her captain told her. She grumbled her way to her own seat. 

“Have you gotten settled?” Kling asks them.

“Oh, uh ya. The rooms really nice. Had a great nap.” Tobin replies. 

“How about you Y/N? How are you settling in? You figured out your luggage situation yet?” 

“What luggage situation?” Becky asked. 

“Oh, the airport lost Y/N’s bag and sent it to florida. It wouldn’t arrive here in time before we went back so we just had them send it back home.”

“So Y/N doesn’t have any clothes?” 

“She’s got her soccer gear and she can just wear some of my stuff. It’s only a couple of weeks. So I guess you can say that we’ve got it all sorted.” 

“Two weeks is a long time to not have any clothes. We’ll have some time tomorrow after morning practice to go to the store. We can take the rental car coach won’t mind.” 

“No, that's ok.” Y/N just sits picking at her dinner as the older girls around her talk. The other girls at the table could tell that that conversation was over, and wanted to change topics quickly. 

“So Y/N your sister said you're a forward right?” Y/N nods. “What soccer player do you look up to the most?” A Rod questions.

“Toby. Who else?” 

“Ok I should have seen that one coming. Then who is your second favorite?”

“Toby.” 

“But you said she was your first favorite?” Cheney buts in. 

“No Tobin is the player I look up to the most, and my second favorite player.” Tobin chuckled at the serious tone her sister took on. 

“Ok so who’s your favorite player?” A Rod tries again. 

“I… don’t think I can say.”

“Why not?” Y/N doesn’t respond. “Are they someone on the team?” She blushes and looks down, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Holy shit it is. Now you have to tell us.” Abby demands. Y/N blushes even harder and shakes her head. “We won’t tell them. Unless it’s someone at this table.”

PART 5

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 3 (18+)

a/n: thank you to all who liked, commented and reblogged. glad to have you on this ride with me.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter two here ]

Chapter Three: Of Blowjobs and Birthdays

The house becomes hectic when everyone is back home. With twelve people living here, it’s a house full of extremely different personalities and, honestly, a little overwhelming. You start to wonder how stable things will remain throughout the year. Do the guys ever fight amongst themselves? Do the girls? You’re not very confrontational, so you’ll have to hold on to hope that any disagreements can be resolved quickly. 

After dinner you have a chance to interact with Jeongin in the basement. The two of you are standing next to the bar as Lee Know and Changbin challenge each other in a game of pool. Jeongin is all smiles and dimples as he talks to you about his minor in fashion design and his plan to launch a chic streetwear clothing line after graduating. You can’t think of any other way to describe him besides adorable and pure (Han will later assure you that thought wears off over time).

“If you ever need tips, I’m the one to talk to,” he tells you. 

“I may have to take you up on that because this,” you gesture to the plain jeans and shirt you’re wearing, “is where I tend to stay.”

He steps closer to you, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt. 

“May I?” He asks. 

You shrug and nod.

He gathers the fabric from the back and folds it upwards, then uses the excess material in front to twist into a spiral. He wraps the end around the ball that has formed and pushes the end piece through the center. He turns you around to face the mirror against the opposite wall and you nod your approval.

“It accentuates here,” he (very professionally) gestures towards your breast while standing behind you, then moves his hands lower to your waist, “and here without you having to do much.”

“Do mine next, Innie,” you hear Changbin say from the pool table.

“It works best with bigger shirts, hyung, yours are too tight,” Jeongin retorts. 

Lee Know laughs as he calls 8 ball corner pocket and sinks it in. 

The smile on Changbin’s face drops as he tosses the pool cue on the table. He heads up the stairs without saying anything to anyone, causing the three of you to burst out into laughter. 

You all end up following after him to the main floor to see what the others are up to. 

Mostly everyone has dispersed to doing their own thing and you decide to turn in for the night. If you stay down here any longer, you may be tempted to accidentally fall asleep on the couch, if it means avoiding going up to Chan’s room. You imagine that might not play out so well as you head to the second floor to shower.  

You make a stop in Hyunjin’s room on your way to grab a few things you’ll need the next couple days while staying with Chan.

Hyunjin is seated at his desk, fiddling with a camera. 

“Hey,” you say as you enter. 

“Come to say goodbye to me?” He spins in his chair to face you and pouts. 

“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already feels,” you say with a serious look on your face. 

Seeing your expression, he drops the pout. 

“You okay?” 

“It just feels conflicting, spending last night with you, now going to Chan…” you trail off as you sit down on his bed. 

“It will for the first few weeks, I’m sure,” he tells you. “I wish I could tell you how to sort through it but I really don’t know what it’s like from your perspective.”

“What’s it like from yours?” You ask. 

“These guys are my brothers…we’ve been through so much and already share everything, so this isn’t a huge stretch for us believe it or not,” he shrugs. “Everything is transparent so there’s no room for jealousy, we follow the rules of the house and it all just works out.”

“But Chan seems…”

“He’s been that way the last week for some reason. I don’t know what it is but he’ll either get over it or open up to us about it eventually. He just likes to brood. He’s moody like that.”

You nod your head, taking some consolation that maybe it isn’t you that’s the problem after all, and get up from the bed to retrieve your belongings. Hyunjin stands to hug you on your way out and tells you goodnight, placing a kiss on your forehead. You revel in his embrace while you have it.

“You should show your figure more,” he says when you step back, looking at the shirt Jeongin has revamped for you. “It looks good.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a shy smile, covering your midriff with your arm as you slowly back out of the room. You wave one final time before turning around, wanting to retain the happiness you’re feeling right now as you’re so uncertain what awaits on the next floor up. 

Seungmin, Changbin and Han, who also stay on the third floor, warned you about how warm it gets up there. So after your shower, you decide on a pair of silk pajama shorts and top for the night. When you enter Chan’s room, it feels even warmer since he’s just had a shower, too.

He has one towel tied around his hips and is using another to dry his hair when he stops to look at you. His eyes travel from you head to toes, then back up again. He sits down on his bed and watches you as you put your things away. 

“How was your first day in the house?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Pretty good, actually.” You say turning to face him, trying to keep your gaze on his face and not his exposed chest. Even in his relaxed sitting position you can see the outlines of his abs. 

“You think you’ll be able to stick it out?”

You furrow your brow at his question. 

“Am I allowed to leave if I feel like I can’t?” You ask. 

“You didn’t read the contract?”

Your gaze falls to the floor. Fucking contracts will probably be the death of you.

“It was, like, 37 pages, Chan. I have enough to read with my class assignments,” you tell him. 

“Yes, you can leave,” he answers. “With a proper two week notice so we have time to find a replacement.”

“That disposable, huh?” You move the blankets back on your bed and sit down on it. 

“We don’t force anyone to be here,” he shrugs, leaning back on his hands. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You ask suddenly. 

“You’re already here,” he replies. “Might as well stay.”

Part of you wants to take what he says as him encouraging you to stick around, but the way he says it makes it feel like an afterthought. You also made the mistake of thinking he was being kind to you earlier today. 

“Results are in, by the way,” he announces with his phone in hand.

It takes you a moment to realize what he means—the test you took a few days ago. Your heartbeat quickens as you check your phone and find the email. It’s not the results that are making you nervous. It’s the feel of his eyes on you and what comes next. You stand from your bed and walk towards him, hand outstretched for him to see your results. He nods his approval and shows you his.

“Did you want to…” you trail off, unable to bring yourself to say the words. 

He slowly licks his lips as he looks up at you. You’re not sure if the uneasiness you’re feeling is nerves or some kind of tormented butterflies. It feels drastically different than when you were with Hyunjin, that much you’re sure of.

He takes your phone from you and tosses it behind him on the bed before holding his hand out. You tentatively place yours in his and he pulls you so you’re standing between his legs. His hands drop to the back of your knees and his fingertips begin to lightly caress their way up the back of your thighs.  

“You don’t?” He counters. 

“I—I—“ you stutter. 

His hands creep higher and higher until they’re just barely beneath the hem of the shorts. He stops his movements, grips you and pulls you even closer to him. You place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling on him.

“It has to be consensual, y/n,” he tells you. “But I do want you first.”

Your eyes lock with his and for the first time you feel like he’s being transparent. Would it ease some of the tension you feel with him if you consent tonight? Hyunjin did mention some of the members view this as a sexual thing and others emotional. Maybe Chan just prefers the physical. 

“I’ve only ever been with one other person,” you say, looking down at the floor. 

“Then you’ll learn a lot here,” he says as his hands resume caressing you. 

Your hands move up towards his neck, fingers lightly stroking at the nape. Eyes still locked on his, you nod your consent. 

“Lesson one, then,” he says, spreading his legs a little further apart. “Get on your knees.”

Your eyebrows come together once again at his words. He doesn’t budge—doesn’t smile, no inference that he’s joking in the slightest. 

You slowly kneel on the floor in front of him. 

“Open my towel,” is his next command. 

You bring your hands to his lap to pull the two ends of the towel apart and cast them aside. He’s completely exposed but shows no sign of being embarrassed or insecure. Your eyes fall down to his cock—he has no reason to, you can see that. 

He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your head up. His thumb lightly moves across your lips from left to right then slowly drags down the middle, pulling your bottom lip with it. 

He redirects his attention to your pajama top, undoing the buttons with ease one by one. When he moves the silky fabric to the side, you let out a shaky breath as his eyes linger on your exposed breasts. He cups both of them in each hand, gliding his thumbs across your nipples until they harden.

It feels good, you can’t deny that. You have no control over your body’s response to his actions, but there’s some discrepancy between your body and the thoughts racing through your mind. He’s handsome, but are you attracted to him? Given the way he’s been treating you…what does it say about you if you are?

His hands fall from your chest, and you instantly feel cold without his touch. He reaches down for your hand and grabs it, placing it on his cock. You wrap your hand around it, feeling how warm and hard it is. He leans back on the bed, looking down at you. 

“Spit on it,” he tells you. 

You feel your pulse pick up at his words as you move your jaw and tongue to gather up moisture in your mouth. You adjust yourself over him to do as you’re told. He guides your hand once again, helping you move the saliva around and lather until his dick is slippery. 

“It’s not that fragile, you can squeeze a little harder, y/n.” His tone is soft as he looks at you with darkened eyes. 

You tighten your grip and begin moving your hand up and down slowly. He lays back flat on the bed as you continue to stroke him. You feel a little less pressure without him staring at you and focus on what’s in front of you. The hair surrounding the base is dark and curly, yet neatly groomed. His dick is almost the same color as the rest of his body, with a redder tint. You can see, up close, all the veins at work as he becomes harder in the palm of your hand. The tip is cut, pink, and dripping. You rub your thumb around it in circles, smearing the clear fluid around. 

He lets out a soft groan and sits back up on the bed.

He cups your face in his hand and strokes your cheeks. 

“Open your mouth,” he says. 

You slowly drop your jaw. His hands move to the back of your head and guide you forward. You close your eyes and try to remain calm and relaxed as you feel the tip of his dick at your lips.

He moves one of his hands to the base, and slides the tip of his dick around your lips before sliding it inside. With his other hand still behind your head, he pushes you further down. You put your hands on his thighs and start to resist when you feel you can’t take anymore in your mouth. 

He releases the pressure on the back of your head and you breathe out of your nose, adjusting to having so much of him in your mouth. It’s not your first blow job, but he’s a lot bigger than your ex and, you know, you hadn’t even kissed this man yet.

You start to stroke the base as your mouth focuses on the upper half. You move in unison, moving your hand up as your head draws back, then down as you take more of him in again. Your ex did not enjoy ‘sloppy’ blow jobs and all the saliva, but Chan seems to like it. You use the moisture that works up in your mouth to make it easier to glide along him. He groans as you start moving faster, and continues guiding your head with more force each time you descend. 

He grips his hand in your hair and you take that as a sign of encouragement to keep going. When you move your mouth to focus on just the tip as you continue stroking him with your hand, he releases your hair and falls back on the bed again. You suck only the tip, popping it out of your mouth like a lollipop and taking it inside again. 

“Fuck, y/n,” he croaks. 

Another sign of encouragement. You’ll have to take whatever words of acceptance you can get with him. 

You take your mouth off completely and use your tongue to lick upwards from the bottom to the top, gliding across the protruding vein there. When you go back to the base, his hand is on your head again, pushing you lower. Your eyes open wide as you see what he wants you to do. You straighten up to spit on his dick again and add moisture before returning back to his balls. You take one in your mouth, lightly sucking on it, then the other. 

“I knew it,” he breathes, seemingly talking to himself.

Knew what? You wonder. But you don’t stop. 

“Put your mouth back on my cock,” he says. 

You place your mouth back on him, moving up and down in synchronicity with your hand. Both of his hands go to your head, forcefully pushing you down as he bucks his hips up, groaning. 

He doesn’t warn you, so the first shot in your mouth startles you. You feel the warmth and taste the saltiness as he continues to thrust into your mouth. When his hips fall to the bed for the final time, you sit back on your legs. You’re not sure what to do next. You want to get up and run to the bathroom.

He sits back up, breathing heavily. The way he looks at you gives you some pause. He looks satisfied, relieved. He leans forward and kisses you briefly on the lips, apparently oblivious of the load you’re holding inside or something. When he leans back, your face is contorted as you gesture to your mouth. 

He shakes his head, careless of the expression you’re making. He places a finger under your jaw to keep it shut. 

“Swallow.”

You shake your head, but he doesn’t move his finger, he pushes up on your jaw harder, staring at you intently. You concede and move your heard forward slightly to make it easier to go down in one gulp. 

“Open.”

You open your mouth and show him nothing is there. 

“Good girl.” He pats your cheek before moving back on the bed towards his pillows, leaving you on your knees at the foot of the bed. “Get some sleep.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. So much for this situation being reciprocal. 

You shakily get to your feet, pick up your phone and retreat to your bed with the buttons of your shirt still undone. There’s no other way to describe how you're feeling—used. You slip underneath the blanket and immediately turn over to face the wall. You hear Chan get up a few minutes later and go to his bathroom. 

You let out a sigh when you believe he’s out of earshot. You signed up for this, but this…was not what you had expected. You imagine how this would have played out with Hyunjin. The two of you would have probably laughed together after your raunchy behavior and he would have held you as you fell asleep. You wish you were with him right now. You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to fall asleep.

You wake up the next morning once again to the sound of your alarm going off and frantically silence it. You peek over your shoulder to see Chan still sleeping in his bed. Yesterday when you were bright eyed and optimistic, you set this alarm to get up and cook for him. Even though he said he wasn’t big on eating breakfast—today is his birthday. You wanted to do something nice for him. Of course that was all prior to him blowing his load in your mouth and then sending you off to bed immediately after. You contemplate just staying in bed and not mentioning his birthday to him at all.

The way he’s treating you doesn’t just sting, it fucking hurts. If everyone in the house had the same demeanor, perhaps you could understand it better—that they all are cold. But, no, everyone else has been nothing but nice to you. 

You have to reason with yourself that you can’t take his behavior personal. You’re here to perform certain duties and you can’t force or expect him to be affectionate with you. You shouldn’t take it as an offense. Easier said than done, though. 

You push the covers off and button up your shirt—you’d fallen asleep without ever fixing it—and make your way quietly down stairs. You stop on the second floor to brush your teeth, it’s desperately needed after last night. You feel yourself start to becoming angry at the thought. Did he enjoy knowing you’d spent the night with the taste of him lingering in your mouth? Why hadn’t you spoken up and said something…anything? Perhaps it falls back on being non-confrontational, but you’re also afraid of making him angry. You push the thoughts aside once again and wash your hands and face before heading to the kitchen.

The boys told you Chan really liked spam omelets so you’ll be making that for everyone, with rice. The distraction of prepping and cooking is a nice reprieve for your mind. You can’t focus on anything other than the task at hand. Some of the others file in soon after to keep you company. Or maybe they’re just waiting to eat. 

You’re finished within an hour. You make Chan a plate—rice on one side with furikake sprinkled on top, and the spam omelet on the other. You find a serving tray in the cabinet and place the plate and a glass of watermelon punch (another one of his favorites, you had been told) on it. The other’s start making their own plates and you head back upstairs to deliver Chan his breakfast in bed. The irony in this is not lost on you. Treating him like a goddamn king after he’d made you feel like a fucking harlot. 

When you get back to the room, he’s still sleeping. 

You sit the tray down at the foot of the bed. You had kinda hoped he’d be awake by now, as you’re not sure how he reacts to being woken up. You sit behind him on the bed and lightly shake him. He wakes easily and turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes half open. 

“Happy Birthday, Chan,” you say to him softly, forcing a smile. 

He takes a moment to adjust to being awake but promptly sits up on the bed, back against the pillows. 

“Thank you,” he replies, as his eyes fall on the tray of food. 

“I know you said you’re not big on breakfast but, I made you a spam omelet,” you say, reaching forward to grab the tray and drag it back towards him. 

He picks up the glass of juice and takes a long drink. 

“The others aren’t planning anything else today are they?” He asks warily, setting the glass back down. 

“Not that I know of…they said you’d kill them,” you shrug. 

“Good,” he nods. “You not eating?”

“There’s more downstairs…I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat alone or not.” You can’t bring yourself to add ‘with me’ in you response. 

He brings the tray closer to him and cuts a piece of the omelet with the fork. He adds a little bit of rice too, then holds the fork out to you, one hand cupped beneath it to catch anything that falls. 

You shake your head and try to push his hand away but he resists. 

“Open,” he says. 

You find this alarming—the rate at which your mouth drops open at his behest. He puts the fork in your mouth and you close your lips around it, drawing back to take the food from it.

He smiles at you then, a real smile. For the first time that you can remember since you’ve been here. His eyes are puffy from sleep so they get even smaller with his cheeks pressed up and you see he has a deep set of dimples. Before you can stop it, you feel your eyes begin to prickle. 

You recognize the onslaught of the water works and quickly stand from the bed. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to know that this small act of kindness felt like so much more to you after how he’s made you feel the past couple of days.

“Please, eat. Enjoy. I’ll see you later,” you say in a rush and head for the door before he can say anything to stop you. 

You don’t know if he calls after you as you speed down the hallway, wiping the lone tear that falls from your eye.

Later, you catch a ride to campus with Felix and Allie for your afternoon class, happy for another distraction to keep your thoughts of Chan at bay. You ride back home with Changbin and Seungmin who are adamant about having pizza for dinner. They advise you of Chan’s favorite place to order from—another birthday treat for him. They make a stop on the way home for beer and alcohol to celebrate. You’re wary of their choice but they tell you since it’s just those in the house in attendance, he won’t be upset about it. 

Back at the house, you lounge on the sofa watching TV with some of the others until Hyunjin arrives home around 3:00pm. He sits next to you and takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You lean your head on his shoulder and place your other hand on his arm. You appreciate his consistency and how easy it is to just be yourself without second guessing anything around him.

“How was last night?” He asks quietly.

“It was fine,” you lie.

“See? You were worried for nothing." He drapes his other arm across your side, pulling you closer to him. 

You’re thankful he can’t see your face. You don’t know if the Chan you’re experiencing is different than the one he knows, or if he fully knows what you’re going through and doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. Either way, you keep it to yourself. 

As more people start to return home, the birthday festivities begin. One case of beer is taken down to the basement to start beer pong and when Chan gets back, the alcohol bottles are cracked opened.

Everyone gathers in the kitchen to take a shot. Chan’s eyes meet yours for the first time since your awkward encounter this morning and you offer a polite smile. Hyunjin pulls you to stand between him and Chan and hands you a shot. You scrunch up your face and shake your head. 

“If I have to celebrate, everyone has to drink,” Chan says matter-of-factly. 

You grab the shot glass in one hand, and hold a can of Coke in the other. 

Lee Know loudly clears his throat before addressing the room. 

“To our fearless and humble leader,” he begins and Han snorts at his words, “We’re thankful to have spent another year with you as our chapter president. We can’t imagine anyone else in your place.”

“Speak for yourself,” Changbin pipes up, causing everyone to chuckle. 

“To another year, and many more to come.” He raises his glass in the air and everyone else follows suit before tossing back the shot. 

You grimace and groan as the burning liquid slides down your throat. 

“Good girl,” Chan says to you quietly, placing a hand on your side.

Your shirt is also tied up the way Jeongin showed you, so his fingers are able to freely roam over the exposed skin there. You tense up at the feeling—this public display. Has he gotten over whatever was bothering him? Did he really just need to release some sexual tension? Or does he just become happier when he drinks?

You don’t have to wait long to find out the answer to the latter. As the evening carries on and everyone moves down to the basement, there’s simultaneous games of beer pong and pool being played. Chan is laughing, smiling, and hugging his fraternity brothers and it’s kind of blowing your mind. 

As he stands behind Lee Know, hands wrapped around his waist and chin wresting on his shoulder as Jeongin says something that makes him laugh, you feel like you’re seeing something you shouldn’t. Who is this person? This can’t be the same guy that made you want to cry yourself to sleep yesterday.

You’re not sure if you should question it, maybe you should just be thrilled that he seems more carefree, perhaps not as weighed down by the responsibility of being the fraternity president tonight. Maybe he’ll be nicer tonight when it’s just the two of you up in his room.

You have another shot when everyone else takes one and have a mixed drink as you play beer pong with Hyunjin as your partner. The overall mood in the house is positive, everyone is having a good time. At one point you spot I.N. and his assignee, Charlotte, making out in the corner. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight—Han was right. 

When the pizza arrives, you help Seungmin and Felix carry all the boxes down to the basement. You go through the boxes to find the one you ordered specifically for Chan and take it to him where he’s sitting at the bar. Thankfully, Seungmin and Changbin had been with you when you placed the order so you could make sure to get what he likes.

“For you, birthday boy,” you say with a smile, holding the box out to him. He takes it from your hand with a lazy smile and sits it on the bar counter. 

Chan lifts the box open, stares at the pizza inside for no more than two seconds before shutting the box and pushing it away. All traces of his previous smile completely gone. 

“Pineapple?” He forces the word out with a look of disgust, as though it pains him. 

Changbin and Seungmin burst into laughter behind you. You whip your head around and throw a glare in their direction. They played you. They planned for this moment to happen since this afternoon. As they remain doubled over in laughter you press your lips into a firm line and slowly nod your head. You will remember this.

You turn back to face Chan.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, “there’s literally every other kind of pizza you can imagine. What can I get you?”

 “Just plain pepperoni is fine,” he says with a shrug. 

You turn to retrieve him a box, but he catches your wrist to stop you, pulling you back towards him. Since he’s sitting down, you’re right at eye level with him. 

“You can’t be so gullible,” he says softly. “That’s gonna cost ya.”

He lightly taps you on the ass before jerking his head in the direction of the other pizza boxes and sending you on your way. 

He’s making pineapple on pizza sound like a cryptic deadly sin. As you plate him up some pepperoni pizza, his last words linger in your mind. You turn to look back at him, his eyes are on you from across the room. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes meet his and he smirks. What is this innocent mistake going to cost you?

[ read chapter four here ]

a/n: i may be having a little too much fun with this chan. like, comment & reblog to keep fueling my writing fire :)

[disneyprincemuke]

our spot * ls2

a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of infidelity

notes: YOOO how is it that i've been screaming about oscar and sebastian for weeks yet i write about logan first anyway? hope u enjoy this bc i OFC enjoyed breaking my own heart while writing this &lt;;/3

super long read btw, it's like 3.7k words

(f1 masterlist)

(part two)

logan isn't back home very often. he doesn't exactly have the chance to, given his circumstances. so when he is, it's typically a nice breath of fresh air. because that's where you are.

or at least, used to be.

he doesn’t hear from you often anymore. since he’d gotten busier with his promotion to f1, it’s been a lot harder to keep in touch with you.

admittedly, he does miss you. but what right does he have to tell you that outwardly?

the only way he knows what’s going on with you are whatever you let the public know of yourself. your instagram posts and stories don’t come often, so logan might as well consider you a stranger.

he only knows one thing, that his mother let slip over the phone during their call, that you’ve started seeing somebody recently. he doesn’t know if you’re still together — the man his mother speaks of doesn’t exist on any of your platforms.

perhaps it’s because it’s only hearsay? but you’ve always been sort of a private person yourself, so he’s not exactly surprised.

logan sighs to himself, rolling his chair over to the window that faces what used to be your bedroom. the window is shut with its curtains drawn.

you moved out the moment you turned 18. he once had your address when you gave it to him, and he kicks himself over the fact that he never got around to visiting you and seeing how you’ve come into your own.

he never got to see the apartment you would talk about growing up and all the decorations you planned on putting up.

he wonders, did you ever keep the framed picture with him when you went to disneyworld as kids? did you bring it with you?

logan huffs and pulls down his blinds. he turns to face his room, leaning back into his seat. it’s the holidays, but there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do with absolutely nobody.

his friends have all gone back to visit and spend time with family. he spent his first couple of days with his family, but even they’ve got better things to eventually.

all he can do is train for his next season.

he decides to finally get up to his feet, grabbing the gym bag that sits on the edge of his bed. he’s just about to drive to the gym when his phone lights up his dim bedroom.

a notification from you that makes his heart race and hands shake. a text from you is the last thing he expected out of his visit.

he hasn’t talked to you in nearly 2 years.

heard ur back home

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. he doesn’t write a reply immediately, so much hesitation and confusion mixing in his mind.

it’s taken him so off guard that he comes to a realisation that he doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore.

just for the holidays, im headed back to the uk after new year’s

your response is quick.

our spot

logan’s got no idea what you mean by that. until another text from you comes in.

10 minutes. see u

oh. you’re actually asking to see him.

suddenly he’s got no idea what to do. does he actually go?

he’s pacing around his room, frantically searching for the things he’d need to go and see you. which, wouldn’t actually be much. just his phone, his wallet, and

his gaze lands on the sad pile in the corner of his room, trinkets he’s collected from traveling the world in his first season. collected just for you, like you’d always talked about growing up.

now begs the question: does he bring it with him or does he just forget it ever existed?

doesn’t matter. he grabs his phone and wallet, heading out the door. his history with you is never spoken about.

maybe once, on a drunken night in australia with oscar. when he asked logan why he’s still visibly single, logan explained his situation.

how you kissed him the day he was leaving to stay in europe to fully commit to his junior career. how you’d called him every single night when you were teenagers, waiting around months at a time for him to come by for a short visit.

how you told him you loved him one evening when you were 19, in london when you were over for a visit. and how he had to put it on hold for his junior career, and never had the chance to get around to it because of his commitments to formula 1 now.

he had put it on hold, thinking you’d be around forever for him to come back to. he knows now that he’s never been more wrong in his life.

oscar never brought it up again after seeing the american choke on his words and laugh nervously as he retold the story.

when he found out you were seeing somebody, his heart broke. but he couldn't get himself to ask you about it. he knows it's his fault that you're in somebody else's arms now.

he quietly pads through his home, trying to pass his family members who have all resided in their individual bedrooms. even they've got no idea what's gone down between you two.

as far as they're concerned, you just simply drifted apart with time.

he parks his pickup truck right between the methodist building and what used to be the school you attended together growing up. he sits behind the wheel, eyes scanning the dark for any signs of you being here.

it's not a very far drive, only 5 minutes from his house and yours. just a playground that you used to hang at when you were growing up. when the world got too loud, this is where you'd come to regain composure.

he'd caught you one evening sitting here all alone when you were 8, and it's become your spot for late-night talks ever since. right on that green slide is where logan told you that he wanted to be an f1 driver when he was older.

it was on that blue swing that you admitted the crush you've had on him your entire life, and he reciprocated.

his heart races in his chest, unsure if you'd meant what you texted him. what if you bailed and this was all some sick twisted joke you're pulling on him?

and a random car pulls up in front of the methodist. he anticipates the moment you'd crawl out of the driver's seat, looking different from the last time he saw you - which was about 2 years ago when he last talked to you.

but after about a second, the backseat door opens, your leg poking out with your hair dishevelled in a ponytail. you close the door as you step onto the sidewalk, tugging down your dress that's hiked up your thighs as the car drives off.

logan finally turns off his engine, stepping out shortly after you. your eye roams the quiet street, locking into his as he watches you take a deep breath.

he nods, pointing towards the playground. you nod. he locks his truck and slowly makes his way to the brightly lit playground between the two establishments.

you make a beeline for the swing, dropping yourself down and bending forward to unstrap the heels that suffocate your feet. logan's not even going to ask where you'd come from all dolled up.

he occupies the empty swing next to you, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. it's a lot colder than he initially anticipated and his sweatpants are barely keeping him comfortable.

you sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. there's chatter from the methodist building next to you. you pick at your nails, trying to soften your breathing.

it's only then logan notices that your cheeks are flushed and the smell of alcohol in the air. which is obviously not coming from either place that surrounds both of you.

"are you drunk?" logan starts in a whisper, craning his neck down trying to get a look at you.

you look at him from the side of your eyes, lips pouted out in a frown. "tipsy," you correct him, "not drunk."

he nods to himself, rocking back and forth on the swing. he leans his head on the chain that holds his body up. he doesn't really know what to say.

in fact, he doesn't think there's much to say. you were the one who started ghosting him all those years ago. he's not upset or bitter about it, but he completely understands why you'd done it.

if he were in your position, he can almost guarantee that he would have taken the same measures.

"how long have you been back?" you ask, eyes tracing the design on the rubber playground floor. "why didn't you tell me?"

logan raises his eyebrows. "uh," he stutters, "i didn't know i had to. i'm sorry."

you shrug. "you didn't have to," you trail off, dropping your head low to avoid his gaze. "i just thought you would've told me when you'd come for a visit. we haven't seen each other in a while."

yeah, 2 years, he wanted to say.

"it's cause we haven't seen each other in a while that i didn't think to tell you i'm back home," logan admits solemnly, pressing his lips together. "i'm sorry, though. if i knew, you would've been the first person i told."

"i'm sorry i stopped picking up your calls," you suddenly say softly. "and answering your text messages. and telling my parents to tell you i'm away on vacation every time you came to visit."

he just nods. it hurt when you first started distancing yourself from him. but, what can he do?

he sort of caught on in the second week after you let him facetime call ring twice without an answer. that would’ve marked the fifth call you ignored, and the twentieth text you left him on delivered.

so he dropped it. he thought that maybe you would come around when he comes back to miami. apparently not, because you were ‘away’ on a trip with friends. which, now he knows, could possibly be just a lie.

logan smiles, mostly to himself as you’re looking straight ahead at the playground’s structure. “i get it. it’s alright.”

“no, really,” you adjust yourself to look at him with a sigh. “i feel horrible every single day about what i did. but i just didn’t know how to cope with the fact that you put me in the backseat when i was right there.”

“hey.” logan slumps his shoulders. suddenly he feels a tinge of guilt in his chest, and no amount of quick convincing makes it go away. “i understand why you did what you did. you deserve to be with someone who puts you first. i didn’t do that.”

you shake your head. a small smile creeps up on your face, looking up as your eyes start to glisten under the lights. “you don’t get it.”

“what do you mean?”

“i miss you,” you say in a sigh. “i thought you said you loved me too?”

“i did,” logan nods. then he corrects himself: “i do.”

“i still think of you,” you admit with a small smile. you laugh dryly to yourself before looking ahead at the playground. “sometimes i wonder how different our lives would be if i’d just never… stopped waiting.”

logan rests his head on the chain that holds the swing up. “sometimes i wonder how nice it’d be if i’d just,” he sighs, “chosen you.”

“same.”

he can see himself on the playground with you all those years ago. sitting in the structure, giggling with one another as you talk about your separate lives.

your lives seem to come together when you’re on that playground, though you walk separate paths that would prove to be more detrimental to your friendship.

you’d indulge one another in gossip the other had no idea about, but tried their hardest to relate and mirror frustrations. more often than not, a notebook is laid down on the ground between you while you try to draw out the situation of said gossips.

it always makes logan cringe thinking of how invested he’d gotten in your drama with your friends.

“i’m seeing somebody,” you whisper.

“i heard from mum.”

“yeah.”

logan takes a few breaths. “is he good to you?”

you nod. he just smiles then plants his feet into the ground. “that’s good. i’m so happy for you.”

“he’s not you, though, logan.”

he turns his head, looking at you in shock. “what?”

“i want you to tell me i’ve made a mistake,” you say flatly, turning your head to look at him with a frown. “tell me i shouldn’t be with him.”

“i can’t say that to you,” logan frowns, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden request. “i can’t decide that for you.”

you take a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “tell me you still want me, logan. and i’m all yours.” you sigh. “but i need you to say it to my face. cause i won’t wait for you if you don’t ask me to stay.”

logan searches your eyes for any sort of hesitation, or signs of backing off. but he doesn’t. you’ve got that same glimmer in your eye that he’s seen over and over again.

“i do,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i really do. but i can’t promise you anything. i’ll only break your heart. you know this. we lead two very different lives.”

you shrug, dropping your head again. “we could make it work. you’ll never really know.”

“please don’t do this. you’re with somebody else who gives you the world, i’m sure,” he tried to explain to you. “better than i can. you know at least that for a fact.”

you finally stand up, fists clenched by your side. “i can see it in your eyes, logan. you don’t want things to be this way — i’m giving you a chance to change the course of things.”

he looks up at you, lips parted and mind running with thoughts that all contradicted one another.

not talking to you took a while to get used to. especially when he moved up to formula 1, it was hard to find someone to talk to who would listen to him talk without judgement.

he needed your presence the most when he felt so out of place in his environment; like he was an imposter who didn’t deserve to be where he did.

your sudden departure from his life took a harder hit than he cares to admit. he thought about you every single day: the one person who can tell which smiles he fakes on the daily.

the ultimatum you’re giving him is too tough to make a decision on the spot. in hindsight, he’s not only breaking your heart, but also his.

logan sighs, standing up to tower over you. he hovers a hand over your shoulder. “let me drive you home.”

“no, come on, logan!” you shove his hand away from you and stumble a step back. “do something for once! risk something!”

“it’s not that easy.”

“but it is,” you say, matter-of-factly, giving him a stare of indifference. you hold your arms up by your side and raise your eyebrows. “i know my pain is such an imposition. but i’m tired of feeling like this when i know how you feel for me!

“when i know how to make this pain go away. work with me here, logan.”

“i can’t do that because there are more important things on the line for me right now!” logan spits at you, throwing his hands into the air. “i do, okay! i do love you! i think about you every single day, but i can’t throw away everything i’ve ever worked for just to be with you!”

“who says you’ve got to do that?” you shout back, shoving him slightly. “i’m asking you to choose me alongside everything you’ve got, not drop your entire career for me!”

“i’m a fucking laughing stock, do you not see what’s circulating the internet?” he asks exasperatedly with an eyeroll. “you don’t want that going for you. i’ve got bigger things to work on.”

he turns on his heel and walks towards his truck. when he doesn’t hear your footsteps following him, he stops halfway and turns to you. “get in the car, i’m driving you back.”

“so this is how it’s going to be?” you laugh dryly, gesturing at your surroundings with a finger point. “you’re just going to push me aside because you think you can’t give me what i need?”

“i don’t think it — i know so.”

“and what exactly is it that you think i need?”

“somebody to show up for you when it matters,” logan huffs, slowly making his way back over to you. “somebody who can love you even on his worst days; who can take you out on dates, love you on your bad days, and just be there for you.

“i can’t even do that for myself. what the hell makes you think i can do all of that for you?”

he stops right in front of you, chest heaving from frustration and eyebrows furrowed as he towers over you. “i won’t be the person who can give you what you need. not now, i’m still working to be better.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i’m done with this conversation, (y/n),” he sighs, taking a step back. the smell of your perfume increases his urge to just pull you into his arms, but he can’t do that to you, himself, or the guy you’re with. “get in the car, i’m driving you home.”

"fine, whatever," you snap, folding your arms over your chest and stomping towards him to reach the white pickup truck by the corner.

when he planned on coming home for the winter break, you reaching out was never one of his things to expect. he thought that you were absolutely done with him, given that you hadn't talked to him in nearly two years.

his brothers giving him flack for his formula 1 season, maybe, but you confessing your feelings for him all over again? he hadn't ever thought about it in a million years.

when he climbs into the driver's seat, you've already fastened your seatbelt. your legs are crossed, like your arms over your chest, and your body is tilted towards the window.

logan sighs. "(y/n). please understand it from my side. i don't want to hurt you any more than i already have. you don't deserve this."

you still don't meet his eyes. your eyes are trained on the dark scenery outside with a prominent frown on your face. "just take me back to my parents' house."

"what about your apartment?"

"i put it out on the market a month ago," you admit softly as logan turns on the engine. "i'm moving out of miami."

now, logan is typically a well-tempered person. growing up with brothers, it's definitely one way to train that aspect of yourself.

but the last time he had asked you to reconsider moving to the united kingdom with him after graduation, you had refused. because your life is here in miami: your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known.

all of a sudden, you're moving out of here?

he hadn't faulted you initially, but he might just start seeing a change of heart if it comes down to this.

logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably, lifting his foot from the gas pedal. suddenly he's curious to know more about what's going on in your life: moving out of the house is one thing for you, but moving to a completely different place is something else.

"where are you going?"

"new york for a couple months," you say, staring at the street ahead. "just for some training. after that, i'm off to germany. i got a job offer."

"what about your boyfriend?"

"i haven't told him about it yet," you shrug, "i've been thinking of you too much to consider what is to come of the relationship eventually."

"you shouldn't do that. i'm not your boyfriend."

a dry scoff passes your lips. "thanks, i actually know that."

he pulls up to the front yard of his home. pulling up the handbrake, he turns to you with a hand on the backrest of your seat. "i'm serious. don't sabotage whatever you've got going on for you. embrace it."

"really?" you scrunch your nose as you turn to face him. "life advice from someone who keeps sabotaging all of the lifelines i keep throwing out for him to save what we had going on for years?"

logan sighs. he raises his hands to surrender. "fine. do what you want. i only want the best for you and i know it's not me."

"whatever, logan," you scoff, taking off your seatbelt. you throw it back into place and unlock the car door, pushing it open. "i won't be around forever: remember that."

you crawl out and slam the door behind you. all logan can do is sink in his seat and watch you cross the road, walk up to your front door and shut that behind you as well. you don't spare him another look, which is when it all washes over him like tsunami waves.

but as much as he wants you, he will have to stand true to his words. because he knows his truth: he isn't the person you deserve to be with.

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 3 | Jabberwock

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

Haru - Love at First Sight

Haru is a very busy man. He’s always on the go, rarely ever thinking about romance because he’s got thirty-thousand other things on his mind. One day, all these things weighing on him distracted him enough that Peekaboo managed to get out of his pen, wandering off out the back door that Ren had left open again. When he realized Peekaboo was missing he almost lost it, flying into a full panic and racing out the door. He found him playing with you in a large clearing in Jabberwock, you sitting on the ground picking wildflowers and handing them to Peekaboo, who’d sort them into piles based on their color. He was so relieved he came to a dead stop on the spot, a horrid crunch coming from one of his ankles from the sudden force of his momentum. He fell over, wincing softly, and you quickly moved over toward him, asking if he was ok. When he looked up at you, his breath caught in his throat. The sun was behind you, framing you and lighting up your loose hairs like they were glowing, and you wore a soft, concerned look on your face, which as far as he was concerned may well have been the prettiest face he’d ever seen.

“I, um, I’ll be fine, it, it happens! Thank you for watching my baby, I can’t believe I let him escape… whaddya say I, uh, treat you to dinner tonight as a thank-you?”

Towa - Soulmates

Towa has always loved the idea of soulmates. Towa loves love, period. Unfortunately, his love and devotion to Haru get in the way of him finding his own soulmate. At least, until you come into his life. He thinks you’re perfect: you understand him better than anyone ever has before, you’ve got an uncanny way of keeping his rapid mood swings at bay, and soon, he listens to you and does things for you unlike he will for anyone but Haru. The two of you can often even communicate without words, you adapting to his nonverbal tendencies so well you sometimes adopt them when you’re around him. You’re a bit free-spirited, but grounded enough that his wild, free spirit is calmed around you. Even if you don’t believe in soulmates, Towa does, and he’s certain that you’re his and won’t hesitate to let you know that on a regular basis. He regularly comes to you with R&R permits asking you to go off campus with him.

“~~~. You’re the one for me, Dandelion. Please never change~”

Ren - Roommates

All things considered, Ren is a good roommate. He doesn’t really help clean, but he also doesn’t spend much time outside his room to make much of a mess in the first place. He minds his own business, he never makes much noise, and sometimes, you can convince him to play video games with you. Ren loves video games. Sometimes, Ren loves video games more than he cares about his personal space, at least considering you’re also laid-back and mind his boundaries, so every once in a while he’ll even invite you into his room to play something with him, or watch game playthrough videos. One day, he does something you wouldn’t have ever expected of him, inviting you to watch a movie with him. You agree and go make popcorn, only to realize he’d meant in his room rather than the living room. You end up sitting up at his headboard together rather than perched on the end of his bed like you usually do when you’re in there. This becomes more frequent, the space between your shoulders decreasing little by little each time, until the night you fall asleep on his shoulder. He gets flustered, not even realizing you’re asleep at first, but he can’t deny that it’s a nice feeling to have you cuddled up next to him like that.

“So, uh. There’s a new movie that came out a couple weeks ago and it’s available to rent now, do you maybe wanna watch it tonight? I know you don’t love horror stuff, but…”

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission. 

Chapter 1

You’ve started tutoring Ellie and things don’t go as expected. She’s trying to convince you to kiss her to keep her doing her work. But not to kiss and tell.

Word count: 2.4k

CW: No use of y/n, profanities, *Ellie and reader are both 18*

The first time you kissed Ellie Williams was right in the middle of your 3rd tutoring session during the first week of March. 

She is the star of the girl's lacrosse team and they threatened to bench her if she didn’t improve her grades. 

Truth be told, Ellie has far greater academic aptitude than you expected. However, she spends most of her time in class flirting with the popular girls and cracking jokes instead of paying attention.

All you really have to do is go over the material and make sure she pays attention. Once she actually got to work, she would fly through everything, but keeping her focused was a far greater challenge than you had anticipated

The first meeting Ellie told you all about lacrosse, and you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about even if you wanted to. “You won’t get to play lacrosse if you don’t get any work done,” you reminded her. 

The second meeting you found out that Ellie is secretly a nerd, when she ranted about comic books. You had brought it up and it turns out you like some of the same ones. Ellie couldn't contain herself, but she made you swear not to tell anyone about it. 

Meeting three was when Ellie found out how to keep you distracted. She noticed the little pride pin on your backpack and started using her charm on you. 

You meet 2 times a class cycle because you were helping her with calculus and English on A days and chem and Spanish on C. You both have the same study hall so they assigned you to her. Can’t take away from the superstar’s practice time after school. 

“That rainbow pin on your bag,” Ellie smirks. “Are you…?”

“Rainbow in a women are hot way? Yes, I’ve been out for a while, so I thought everyone knew. I guess it’s only the people who pay attention.”

“I pay attention!” She actually looks offended. 

You sigh. “To cheerleaders, in short skirts. And popular girls in expensive clothes. Any girl with a couple thousand followers on Instagram.” Although you suspect that there is more to Ellie than there seems to be, there is no ignoring her taste in women.

“Not very feminist of you, judging those girls, I see that pin too.” She shakes her head in sarcastic disapproval.

“I would never judge anyone for anything like that. I admire anyone who is brave enough to express themselves in the way they want to. I’m judging you. For having such a narrow gaze.” Your smile is so sickeningly sweet it could rot her teeth. 

Ellie’s jaw drops, she really thought she had you there. “Come on now, I pay attention to all sorts of girls.”

You cover your face with your hands. “All right then, you’ve spent enough time sitting across from me, what color are my eyes, Ellie?”

“I… uh…” she stutters, at a loss for words. 

You uncover your face and comically bulge your eyes. 

Ellie raises her eyebrows and nods. “Now that I see them, that is exactly the color I was going to say.” 

“Bull shit.”

“Fine,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “ask me another question. If I get it wrong you will get 15 minutes of uninterrupted work from me.”

“What’s my last name?”

“That’s easy… you sit next to Carly in calculus, so your last name must start with R or S.”

You cut her off before she can continue, you'd be here all day. “I’ll stop you right there. We are not in the same calculus class.”

She purses her lips and squints her eyes. “Then why are you tutoring me in calculus?”

“Well, I am in honors, so I’m a year ahead. I got an A in it last year.”

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “That does actually make sense.”

You slide a worksheet over to her. “How about we start that uninterrupted work.”

She doesn’t even look down at the pieces of paper. 

“Just one more question? If I get it wrong, I will shut up for the rest of the period.”

She leans forward and gives you a charming smile, which you ignore to the best of your ability. 

“I love watching you bet against yourself,” you admit, leaning back in your chair with a smirk.

“I’m not done. If I get it right…” mischief flickers in those enchanting green eyes. “… I get a kiss.” 

Her smile would melt most girls' hearts, and you are no exception. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never watched her walk down the hallway before. Ellie swaggers through the crowds, that part for her like the red sea, with a shit eating grin and her chin turned up. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and her gravitational field is strong, all eyes are always on her. The girl practically oozes charisma. 

But you know how to play it cool.

“A kiss? Seriously? That’s what you want?” You scoff, though you certainly wouldn't’ mind.

“Yeah.” She says as if it’s obvious. 

“Why?” You are very suspicious. “I don’t fit any of your criteria.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ellie leans over and rests her elbows on the table, folds her hands together. “Now that I’m paying attention, your eyes are really pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me, Williams,” you huff, annoyed by her wasting your time. 

She smirks at you. “I’m serious. You’re actually way prettier than half the girls I’ve hooked up with.

“I’m so flattered.” You say sarcastically and start to organize the things spread out on the table. 

“I’m being serious!” She says and playfully slams her hands down on the table. 

“Only half?” You chuckle.

“I just… I… I guess not.” That makes your eyebrows raise and your nose scrunch in disgust. You run your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“Actually, more than most.,.” Ellie stutters, her eyes darting around. 

You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a smile. “What’s my favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite song?” She echos back. 

“Guess it right and you can have a kiss.”

You’ve never seen Ellie concentrate so hard. You can only assume that this is her game day face.

“Its… it’s…” and she guesses… correctly?

You gasp, totally flabbergasted. “How the hell did you know that?”

She looks like she just won jeopardy. “You requested it in gym the other day.”

You blink rapidly in shock. “And you remembered?”

Ellie sits back and crosses her arms confidently. “Believe it or not we have a similar taste in music”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Either way, I still won my prize,” she winks at you.

“Prize? Oh, yeah,” you laugh and roll your eyes. 

You lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips

She looks disgusted.

If looks could kill Ellie Williams would have been slaughtered right there in the school library. 

“Fucking hell, am I really that bad of a kisser?”

She squints her eyes and shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t know, that wasn’t a real kiss.” You run your hand through your hair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie looks deep into your eyes, like she’s staring right at your soul, and licks her lips. She slowly moves her hand to your face and cups your chin. She tilts your face up and smirks before pulling your lips into hers. Ellie does not hold back. 

Though you’ve never kissed each other before, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times. You don’t have to find a rhythm; you just fall in sync. Something about the way she tastes is so familiar. Who were you to deny yourself a good kiss with an attractive girl?

Ellie pulls away but leaves her hand on your chin. “That is a kiss.”

You lightly grab her by the wrist and place her hand on the table. “You still owe me 15 minutes of work.”

Ellie fake pouts. “Is that all you have to say to me? Was that not the best kiss of your life?”

Your palm meets your forehead. “You really are full of yourself. It’s time to get this stuff done.”

“All I’ll say is that maybe this could be a method of keeping me motivated.”

“You’re ridiculous!” 

She’s got a wide grin on her face; she’s waiting to prove you wrong. “You say that now, but I’m sure you’ll find yourself offering up bigger and bigger prizes, and not just to shut me up. But let’s keep this between us.”

It’s your next meeting and you are supposed to work on her chem homework and edit her English essay. 

“How about we work on your essay first?”

She nods and opens her notebook… to an empty page. She looks over at you expectantly and you gesture at it with confusion. 

“That doesn’t look like an essay to me,” you sigh. 

“I just wasn’t feeling motivated. So, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could kiss me after every paragraph. It would help me write.” Ellie licks her lips and tries to seduce you with her alluring eyes. 

“I think it’s best, for the both of us, to keep things professional.”

“Not best for me, it’s a proven method!” She exclaims as if it’s obvious. 

“You’d have to run the experiment more than once to prove something.”

“Fine, you can be the x axis and I can be the y axis.”

You fold your hands together. “I’m proud of you for that even if it doesn’t make sense. Do you know how many people have caught feelings for me while I tutor them?”

“First of all, I don’t catch feelings. Second of all, it can't be that many. 

“Underestimating is a dangerous game, Williams, a star athlete like you know that. 4 of 7 straight guys, 2 of 2 queer girls and 1 of 4 straight girls.

Ellie brings her hand to her chin and nods in approval. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Game recognizes game. That’s why you don’t have to worry about me catching feelings.”

“We can use that as a last resort. Can we please try and be professional?” You are borderline begging her. 

“Ughhhhh,” she groans and pouts her lips, trying to get you to look at them. You can neither confirm nor deny that it worked.

“I don’t care who you are, Ellie, you won’t be getting any special treatment from me.”

“We will see about that.”

Ellie was surprisingly cooperative while you outlined the essay theme. She even stayed focused while writing the intro.

But while working on the outlines for the body paragraphs she would hit you with a pickup line as often as she could. Somehow, she knew exactly where the sweet spot was, enough to satisfy herself, but not too many that you would get fed up with her and tell her to stop. 

“I finished the intro, how about we work on the intro of me and you?”

“I think this paragraph proves I know how to handle a beautiful body.”

Ellie kept holding the eraser side of the pencil to her lips and glancing over to see if it had you looking where she wanted you to. It's painful to admit, but you couldn’t look away.

After mapping out all of the paragraphs you switch over to chemistry. 

“Let’s go over the basics for this topic. What can you tell me about entropy without looking at your notes?” You ask her this very hesitantly, you don’t want to put too much pressure on her.

“Chaos and disorder.” Ellie smiles like an evil villain, as if those are her two favorite things. 

You give her a nod of approval. “That’s a good start, do you remember how the amount of disorder correlates to the amount of entropy?”

Her face scrunches up while she thinks. “More disorder is more entropy.”

“Perfect.” That puts a devilish grin on Ellie’s face. “If you kissed me I would have less entropy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you would.” You are completely monotone. “If the reaction is positive do the reactants or the products have higher entropy.”

Ellie straightens up her posture. “The products. So, if kissing was the product there may be a lot of entropy, but it would also be positive.”

“Ellie, if you found some internal motivation you would excel. Not just pass these classes and be able to play lacrosse but do really well. You are smart and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” You made sure that your tone was soft and reassuring. You really mean it and don’t want to sound condescending.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Ellie was on the verge of tearing up. “Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nobody ever expects more of me than playing well in lacrosse.” She’s looking anywhere but at you and playing with the pencil in her hand.

“I don’t know you well, but I can tell there is much more to you.”

Ellie looks so lost. “Of course,” she mutters. “I seduce every girl I see.”

That is absolutely not what you meant, even if it had been in the back of your mind. 

You softly give Ellie your opinion on the situation, whether it’s your place or not. This girl obviously doesn’t talk about things like this very much and you want her to know it’s ok to be vulnerable and communicate. 

“If the way you are with me is any indication of the way you are with other girls, and I don’t want to step out of line here- but I feel like you can handle honesty- it’s a defense mechanism. Deflection specifically.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and her jaw drops. “Fuck! You are smart.” 

You shake your head and smile. “I wouldn’t say that makes me smart, I’m just not shallow like everyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Ellie leans back in her chair so far that it looks like it’s about to tip over. She is staring up at the ceiling when she mumbles. “I think you’re the only one.”

“I don’t think you are either; I think you pretend to be. In order to survive.”

“What are you, some sort of therapist?”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent hours researching this type of thing because I find it interesting.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

*if anyone is interested in a tag list lmk!

[macfrog]

bloodstream cowboy like me chapter seven

part seven of cowboy like me 🤠 feel free to grab parts i-vi (and more!) over on my masterlist for all ur joel miller needs. can you tell i had my period when i wrote this...? it's just a big ol' hormonal, needy MESS please don't take it seriously you'll ruin my street cred as a cynic

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: you’re on your period and want attention, kisses, and pain medicine from joel. that’s all

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) a whole lotta fluff. like, sickly sweet fluff. mention of periods/cramps/blood, one tiny mention of pregnancy, put mdni since there are mentions of sex & sexual themes but no actual sex, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), bit of cursing, and a pop-tart is destroyed :( rip lil guy

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

In an instant, you want to grind into him, drag your hips along the fabric of his boxers, push him. Rile him up. Make him pine. Make him beg. What the fuck would you even do, anyway? Sex? It’s not like that’s your easiest option right now – definitely not a tidy one. But it doesn’t stop you from picturing it, now that you brought it up. Is Joel picturing it, too? He’s tracing every inch of your face with his stare, soft, but knowing. He knows exactly what’s going through your fucking mind. The way his boxers start to swell against the inside of your thigh gives it away that it’s running through his, too.

It’s been a week since you slept with Joel for the first time. Realistically, waking up in a foul mood to cramps should’ve been some sort of tiny celebration. Yay, I’m not pregnant. But the ache in your tummy, the weight of your limbs as you heave yourself around the house, the sobbing at any minor inconvenience, doesn’t feel so much like a celebration as it does a punishment.

You’d dragged yourself from bed, clutching your belly, and hobbled downstairs. Your dad left for work a couple hours ago; the slam of the front door woke you. Does he always have to be so fucking loud? You’d struggled to get back to sleep, knees tucked under your chin.

You take a blanket from the couch and wrap it around your shoulders, bunching it up at your belly to soothe the pain, and begin raking the cupboards for food. For crappy, sugary, junk food.

When you turn toward the toaster and bump your hip into the corner of the kitchen island, sending the Pop-Tart in your hand tumbling to the ground, you burst into tears and dial his number.

He answers on the second ring.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he coos in response to your wailing.

“Joel, I– my fuckin’ Pop-Tart just flew out of my hand!”

He’s quiet for a beat. “Your– Say that again, baby?”

What you respond with isn’t even intelligible. You know it. It only makes you sob more. Well, that, and looking down at the crumbled pastry on your kitchen floor.

Joel spends the next five minutes calming you down, shushing down the line and trying to get you to speak in plain English. Eventually, you take a deep breath and speak clearly between gasps.

“I – am on – my period. I – got – my – period.”

“Ah,” he muses. “That makes a lot more sense, kid.”

You burst into tears again.

“Hey, hey,” he’s laughing now, “no, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay. Look, I got a free house today – Sarah’s out all day. I ain’t workin’, either. How about you jump in the car and come over? We can lay in bed all day and I can make you feel better. How’s that sound?”

You sniff and mumble a quiet, “Good”.

Joel tells you to head on over once you’re ready. You throw a sweatshirt over your shoulders, slip into comfortable shoes, and get straight into the car. When you pull up outside, he’s already standing at the front door.

Just the sight of him makes you weep. Leaning against the porch post, one hand hooked around his belt. You get out, hunched over with the pain below your belly button, and waddle over to him.

“C’mere, sweet girl,” he whispers as he wraps an arm around you, basically pulling you up the steps to him. “Gonna get you nice and comfortable, okay?”

You lean into his chest and he kisses your head, closing the door softly behind you.

“Upstairs,” he instructs.

You silently obey and make for his bedroom, shuffling your feet along the carpet. When Joel enters the room a few minutes after you, you’re buried in the middle of his bed amongst a sea of pillows and blankets.

“Feelin’ alright?”

“Ish.”

He has a mug of tea in one hand, a box of pain meds in the other, and a hot pack draped over his arm. He sets the tea down on your nightstand, hands you the hot pack (which you immediately lay across your stomach), and offers you the pain meds.

“Water?” you ask, looking up at him with a petted lip.

“I brought tea.” He nods at the mug.

“I can’t take pills with hot tea,” you whisper.

He gives you an affectionate smile and shakes his head. “You’re lucky I care about you s’much.” He leaves the room, calling back, “Put those puppy-dog eyes away!”

You smile smugly to yourself and shimmy deeper into Joel’s pillows. He returns moments later with a glass of water.

“Your highness,” he grumbles as he sets it down for you. Then he pulls a small blue packet from under his elbow.

“Don’t have much round here, bein’ on my own mosta the time,” he admits, sliding it onto the nightstand, “found these in Sarah’s bathroom. They do?”

You smile, eyes scanning over the Always logo. “They’re great.”

The edges of Joel’s mouth lift, proud, like he reckons he’s outdone himself.

You gulp a couple of painkillers down and settle back into bed, heat pad already working its magic.

Joel lifts his side of the comforter up to climb in beside you, but you stretch an arm out.

“Uh-uh.”

“Huh?”

“Not in your jeans. Are we animals?”

He peers down at himself. “The hell am I s’posed to wear?”

“You don’t have sweatpants?”

“I’m supposed to change into my sweatpants just to cuddle?”

“Who the hell lounges around the house on their day off in jeans, anyway, weirdo?”

He clicks his teeth. “You’re talkin’ awful big for someone meant to be in pain, y’know,” he huffs as he unbuttons his jeans and hauls them down his legs. “T-shirt okay?”

“T-shirt’s fine.”

In just his tee, boxers and socks, he climbs in alongside you, snakes his arms around you, and slots his thigh between yours the way he always does. It calms you instantly: his warmth, the sound of his heart beating into your ear, his chest rising and falling with his breathing.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Joel mumbles into your hair.

“Mhm,” you reply, feeling yourself dropping off. “Sleepy.”

He runs a hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and up your bare back, rubbing circles gently where the pain is. You’re asleep within minutes.

----------

You stir to the distant sound of voices. Still enveloped in Joel’s arms, you flutter your eyes open slowly, and look up to his face, lit blue by the TV. He’s watching ESPN.

His eyes dance along the screen, following the players running. His beard, thick, dark, gray and white spotted along his chin, disturbed as he runs his fingers through it. His skin, marked by the sun, by time, by fine lines and dimples at the corners of his mouth.

The Joel you’ve known your whole life – grumbling, head dipped, brows close together; his rough hands and his worn jeans, his awkward squeezes in place of hugs…he doesn’t exist anymore. He’s replaced by this new Joel: kind, warm, approachable. Like you can finally see him, finally get to know him.

The Joel who doesn’t think twice about taking you in his arms, isn’t concerned with how you’ll react. Just knows you’ll fall into him any which way his hands touch you. The Joel who can have you bent double under him, panting his name, and the same Joel who can lull you to sleep with nothing but his scent and his thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin.

The Joel who makes you want to call him your Joel, like he’s made only for you. He does these things only for you. He’s different for you.

Suddenly you feel shy. Realizing that this is the first time he’s seen you like this – vulnerable, in pain. Hurting. And then realizing that he didn’t miss a beat; just swept you up in his arms and bundled you into his bed. Made you comfortable. Made you safe.

You swallow your heart back into your chest. For a second, you almost felt…something. A shift. Something new. A problem arising.

Joel glances down, notices you watching him, and mutes the anchors’ voices.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, giving you a little squeeze. “Better?”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

“I was gonna order a pizza, if you wanted.”

He reads your mind again. Just the thought of a fatty, greasy slab of dough with fatty, greasy cheese all over it is enough to make you salivate.

“Pizza sounds good.”

Joel, wanting to stay near you, and also not wanting to have to get up, picks up his phone and orders it from bed. You sigh as he pulls you back in and sinks lower into the pillows, turning the volume up.

You snuggle your head into the crook of his neck, where it fits perfectly. Made for you. Joel’s arm cradles around your back, sneaking under the bottom of your sweatshirt to hold your hip, keeping your body pressed against his. Your fingers trace shapes on his shirt, lids closing over with each blink.

Out of every sport in America, baseball is the one you’re interested in the least. Growing up with a diehard Rangers fan for a father will do that to you. Every week: Rangers game. Every conversation he had with Joel: Rangers. Every time the TV was switched on: Rangers talk.

You learned to tune it out when he’d rant over dinner, either to you, or into his phone, or to Joel. You’d sit back in your chair and count the crows resting on Marcia’s rooftop. Couple times Joel would kick your leg under the table and ask how school was goin’, when you’re flying back, but as soon as your answer was done your dad would steer the conversation back to baseball.

It bored you at best. Mostly it just made you huff and turn on your heel, back the way you came. Dodging Rangers talk like it was a bad smell.

This time, you doze in and out of sleep, relaxing with the rise and fall of Joel’s chest, his fingers playing with yours. The anchors push you off, then wake you back up with their raised voices as they disagree on some play, some team, some result.

You could lie here forever and never complain. Well, maybe not forever. You care about Joel a lot, but even you have your limits.

You nudge him with your head.

“Yep?”

“Who’s the dude in the blue polo?”

“That’s a coach.”

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Not my type.”

“Are we gonna watch ESPN all day?”

Joel hands you the remote. “Take your pick, darlin’.”

You begin surfing through the channels, eyes scanning for something to take your mind off the pain slowly returning between your legs. You’re barely two pages through when the doorbell rings.

Joel softly slides out from underneath you and throws his jeans on, heading downstairs where you hear him thank the delivery guy, hand him the money, and shut the door again.

“You still good with your water, or you want soda?” he calls upstairs.

“Soda, please!”

He brings up a bottle for you to share. You pull yourself up to rest against the headboard, and Joel sits the pizza between you two.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” he whispers, looking up at the TV.

“Nope!” you reply, mouth full of delicious pepperoni pizza.

“Grey’s Anatomy?”

“You ain’t seen it?”

He hands you a look. Do I look like the type of guy who’s seen Grey’s Anatomy?

You giggle. “Alright, so: Meredith was datin’ this dude Derek – surgeon at the hospital, he’s so hot–” Joel raises his eyebrows, “…but he wouldn’t tell her a thing about his past. Then, she’s waitin’ for him in the lobby,” you take another bite of pizza, “and thish woman walksh over to ‘em,” gulp, “and says she’s Derek’s wife!”

He’s hanging on to every word you say, not ‘cause he actually gives a crap about Meredith and Derek, but because you do. He’s lying propped up on his elbow, watching you with doting eyes as you catch him up on the storyline of the show, smirk slowly growing on his lips.

“You gonna eat the pizza?”

You snap him out of his daydream. “Huh?”

“You ain’t touched it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, taking a slice. “Was just listenin’ to you.”

You tuck your chin into your shoulder and he gives your cheek a gentle squeeze, then you both turn your attention to the TV.

You spend the next couple of hours pausing the show to catch Joel up – “So Meredith ain’t into this George?” “No, he’s just a friend.” “But he loves her?” “Yep.” “And they slept together?” “Uhuh.” “That’s…complicated.” – and chatting over the more boring parts.

You’re only a couple episodes in when you finish the pizza. Joel lets you have the last slice, “Seein’ as you’re my little invalid for the day,” he says. He’d have given you the last slice whether you were ill or not, though, and you know it.

When Joel gets up to take the empty box downstairs, you slip out from under the covers to the bathroom. You sit down, underwear between your legs, and freeze.

Fuck.

Your sanitary pad is soaked through, scarlet with blood, the lining of your underwear the color of rust. You run your thumb along the fabric; it’s still damp. Lifting your top, you notice similar stains on the insides of your thighs, at the very top.

Fuuuck.

“You okay, baby?” Joel’s voice calls from the other side of the door.

“I’m…Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Joel?”

“Uhuh?”

“Could you hand me that pack of sanitary pads?”

He mumbles Sure, his shadow retreats, then the door inches open and his wrist sneaks through the gap, holding the pads out. You take it sheepishly and begin to peel the pad from your underwear, stopping when it reveals more blood stained into the fabric, this time a brighter red. Fresher. You groan, shutting your eyes and tapping the packet against your forehead.

“You sure you’re alright?” Joel asks again, this time from further away.

You’re almost doubled over on the toilet, pain back in full-throttle, voice muffled by the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “I’m fine,” you croak.

The door slowly falls open and Joel’s figure stands in the slit of light. “Kid,” he beckons, and you look up. His expression is normal, if a little concerned; but he doesn’t seem embarrassed to ask, “You need a change of underwear?”

Your face flushes and you wince, your head dropping into your hands, elbows resting on your knees. “It’s on the bed, isn’t it?”

“Might be, yeah. Sarah’ll have somethin’, sure she wouldn’t mind if you…you know…”

“Ugh,” you sigh, still keeping your face from him.

Your period was never something you cared about, even growing up with just your dad. When you got your first one at twelve, he went out and stocked the bathroom with what you needed. Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, hell, half the population deal with it. That’s what he’d said.

And you agreed. It’s just your body doing what it does, right?

Still, you can’t ignore the heat on your cheeks from the embarrassment of the guy you’re sleeping with seeing you hunched over on his toilet, underwear stained with blood, the same stain on his bedsheets. It’s just not your finest hour.

But Joel doesn’t seem to agree.

Not when he sets foot in the bathroom and crouches by your side, placing a kiss to your temple.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He looks offended; his head jerks back to survey you. “The hell you sorry for? You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. Look,” his hand settles on your thigh, rubbing gently, “go find somethin’ to change into in Sarah’s room, get yourself cleaned up, I’ll change the bed. You’re fine.”

“’s not really romantic, is it?”

“I didn’t ask you to come here to be romantic,” he holds your head, “I asked you here to take care of you. Now go.”

He helps you to your feet and you wander off down the hall toward Sarah’s room. You guys grew up together, you’re close enough that she’d probably slap your arm for even asking to borrow her clothes, especially when you need it most right now.

Still, you whisper an apology as you rake through her closet, and make a mental note to be extra nice to her next time you see her.

Once you’ve changed, feeling a lot better, you slip back into Joel’s room where he’s fixing up the clean bedsheets.

“Done?”

You nod, and he takes your underwear from your hands and tosses it onto the pile of sheets by his laundry basket. See? No big deal. He takes your bicep and wraps his arms around you, nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in.

You lift your chin and look up at him, a gleam in your eye. Thank you. He furrows his brows and gives his head a quick shake. No need to thank me.

Joel motions for you to get back into bed, where he lays back and holds his arms out for you to relax on his chest again, but you’re staring at his lips. You lean in and kiss him softly, the only thing you can think to offer him after taking care of you and being so sweet all day.

He returns it, one hand coming up to the back of your head, the other finding home on your hip. You roll back and pull his weight over your body, linking your arms behind his neck. Your thighs close around his waist and his hand runs down your bare leg.

The kiss deepens, both of you coming up for air, just to immediately fall back into one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other’s mouths.

As Joel’s hands explore the skin under your top, massaging and rubbing across your stomach, you begin to worry.

In your experience, kissing always leads to more. You’ve never been with a guy who doesn’t expect sex whenever you lay a hand on him. This feels so good, though, and you don’t want it to stop.

Still, you pull back and quickly whisper, “We can’t…you know.”

“I know. We won’t.” Joel is matter-of-fact. This ain’t a thing to him.

“I mean, we can. People do that – it’s supposed to feel better, or something? I think it helps with the cramps. I’ve never done it before, though.” You’re talking too quick, saying too much. Joel’s just watching you, letting you go on, smiling at you.

“Baby. We won’t.”

Your tongue knots. “We won’t?”

He breathes a laugh. “No, we’re just kissing. We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want. Just tryna make you feel better.”

“I’m not sayin’ I don’t wanna, I always wanna– Well, you know. I like it when we do it. I’m just saying it can get messy, you know?”

He’s grinning at you again. That fucking grin. That You’re being adorable right now grin that makes your heart skip.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Joel reassures you when he lowers his head again and his lips find yours.

Your head tilts as you allow him access to your neck; his favorite place to leave marks. To show everyone, whether they know it or not, that you’re his. You fold, head rolling back onto the pillow as he bites a bruise into your sensitive skin.

Joel pulls away, releasing your neck from between his teeth, and you stare at each other a moment.

Something flickers across his eyes; his jaw jerks as if he’s about to open his mouth and speak. As quickly as you notice it, it disappears. He stops himself.

You run a finger along his bottom lip, and he kisses it lightly.

Between your legs, your center pressed to his, he twitches. Sparks to life. Same thing that sparks in you, though you don’t know where to put it. You don’t know how to undo it.

In an instant, you want to grind into him, drag your hips along the fabric of his boxers, push him. Rile him up. Make him pine. Make him beg.

What the fuck would you even do, anyway? Sex? It’s not like that’s your easiest option right now – definitely not a tidy one. But it doesn’t stop you from picturing it, now that you brought it up. Is Joel picturing it, too?

He’s tracing every inch of your face with his stare, soft, but knowing. He knows exactly what’s going through your fucking mind. The way his boxers start to swell against the inside of your thigh gives it away that it’s running through his, too.

And then his ringtone breaks apart the moment.

“Sorry, kid,” he groans, leaning over to retrieve it. “Hello?”

You recognize your dad’s voice instantly. He has no volume control where phone calls are concerned.

“Joel, you seen my daughter? I got home and she wasn’t here, and I can’t get a hold of ‘er.”

You scramble to find your phone amongst the bedsheets. When your hands find it, you hold it up to show Joel eight missed calls over the course of the five hours you’ve spent here. He scrunches up his nose in response.

“I ain’t seen her. I’ll try callin’ her, she’s probably just out and about.”

“Thanks, bud. She won’t have gone far, just she usually has her cell on her.”

Joel promises to call you before hanging up, and you sit back, slowly closing your eyes with a sigh.

“Now.” Joel leans into you, resting his head against yours. “I’m gonna call you, and you’re either not gonna answer – ‘cause you ain’t been answerin’ your dad – and he’s gonna worry more; or, you will answer me, I’ll call ‘im back, and he’ll wonder why you been ignorin’ him. Or…” He trails off.

“…Or, I go home and act like I ain’t seen his calls, tell him I’m sorry, and he’s none the wiser.”

“Hm.” He nods once, lips folded inward.

“I don’t wanna go,” you whimper, sliding down the headboard and resting your head against Joel’s shoulder.

“I know, darlin’. But we had our fun.” He takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I hope I made you feel better.”

“You did,” you whisper back. In more ways than one; sure, he fed you painkillers and rubbed where you were hurting, but that isn’t all there is to it, right?

The last time you saw each other, he had you propped on the kitchen counter, legs spread, begging for him to let you cum. Today feels as much about making you feel better because of that, as it does making you feel better because of your period. Today feels like Joel telling you he cares about you past the orgasms y’all give each other.

Message received. Even though it makes you dizzy when you think too much about it.

Joel takes your hand and places a kiss to it.

“Hey,” he mumbles against your knuckles, “me ‘n your dad are going to Costco on Saturday to get stuff for this…garden party Sarah’s wantin’. You wanna come?”

“Will you hold my hand and kiss me when I want again?”

He breathes a laugh. “I will when your dad ain’t lookin’.”

“I’m in.”

----------

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[tan1shere]

Slumber Party

Ellie williams x fem reader!

A/n: Hello my lovelies, first post on here (more active on wattpad) but thought I'd occasionally post here when I'm bored. If you have any requests at all they're definitely open! Also this is kinda short but I don't plan on making the next part as short. Enjoyyyy ☆°•

My masterlist

Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend

Warnings: smut, (not in this chapter) read at your own risk (mdni) Dom but soft, protective, ellie! Reader is quite innocent, is very soft also. Cunnilingus (duh- also not in this chapter) your girlfriend in this is an asshole. Abuse, somewhat angst, crying. Lmk if there was anything else!

Pt 2 here! ~ pt 3 here!

Ellie hated Isabel, your girlfriend. She treated you horribly, and Ellie really hated when you'd bawl your eyes out over the phone to her whenever Isabel would storm out of your shared apartment. She hated the fact anyone would make you cry. She never liked seeing you unhappy. Isabel shared this hatred. She never liked you hanging around Ellie, even if you have known Ellie almost all your life. She would scold you after everytime you and her would hang out. You'd come back to the apartment smiling. "What're you smiling about?" You just smile more happy to tell. "Ellie she makes the funniest jo-" "I don't like you being round her Y/n." You would always stare blankly at her, struggling to find the words, leaving your mouth open while you ponder.

Today was not off to a great start. Ellie had just been over, you two were having such a great time. "I should probably get going squirt." She would flash her smile at you, ruffling your hair slightly, as she stood to go to the door. Ellie was a bit older then you, and come to think of it so was Isabel. Let's just say you had a thing for older ladies. (Only by like 6 years) You also stand up, seeing her out and saying goodbye. But as you open the door you're met woth those dark brown eyes. Isabel had just arrived back from work. She glares at the auburn haired girl, making her way inside. "Well hi to you too." Ellie scoffs then looks at you. "Text you when im home." You give her a small nod and a smile before she leaves to her car. You turn around to be faced with a stern Isabel. "You know how I feel about her being in our home. Especially when I'm not here." You never really talk back to Isabel you always apologize and go into the kitchen to make food. She was truly a bitch and she started showing her true colors the moment you two moved in together. You never understood what you would do so wrong. You made every dinner. Every lil food she'd want. The laundry. Just to please her. And although it'd work, it'd never last. "I'm sorry Iz.. She just really wanted to show me this art she was working on and in person. Nothing more I swear." She let's out a scoff. "Why should I believe you it's almost every day you spend with her. It's sickening and pathetic." You stare at her as she says that. She would always make you feel stupid. When in fact you were quite smart you knew what most things meant. Maybe not so much bedroom stuff. But you were book smart nonetheless. Speaking of bedroom. You were basically a virgin. You've kissed Isabel many times done a lil something here and there but it was definitely not much. So you were certainly not confident on that subject. Although Ellie would tell you all sorts of stories about the girls she's been with. It fascinated you to learn all these new terms and what everything was. "I promise to talk to you before hand next time-" She instantly cuts you off. "Why are you still standing here. Cook, I've been working all day." She spits going to your guys shared bedroom. You sigh doing so. And that was your life.

It was maybe a couple weeks after, you had felt like you were coming down with something so you decided that bed rest was the best thing. It was now 3 in the afternoon. You were sleeping in your bed when the door busted open. "What the fuck are you still doing in bed it's almost 4!" Isabel was home and not happy. You sit up a bit. "Yes I know I'm sorry bu-" She drops her bags. "This place is a mess, there's dishes out. Foods not even ready. Laundry is still in the hamper. What fucking else." You look at her softening your look. "Iz, I'm sorry- I woke up feeling horrid so I decided to stay in bed." She shakes her head. "Even when I have the worst headache known to man I still get my ass up and work. You know all that sweet money, I work for that. And you work here that is your job." This was one of the moments were you'd feel bad for yourself. Weak. Weaker right now considering you're sick. You look down at the sheets. "Are you even listening to me? You spoiled brat." She doesn't do what she does next often but when she does you know you're in the shit. She hits you. Hard. "Wonder why I have a headache all the time. It's you and your whiney voice. Look at how pathetic you are." She glares down at your drowsy figure. You feel tears finally sting as you had held them in. Refusing to let yourself be so weak, but you give in. Feeling overwhelmed with emotions right now. "What the fuck are you gunna be like when I go away in a few weeks huh? You better keep this place spotless you know about the cameras. I'll be watching you." Yes. The oh so lovely cameras. They're only in the kitchen, living room and laundry. The only places you slave away at. "I will iz I promise." She hums. "I'll believe it when i see it. I needa go out and grab some stuff. Make sure dinners ready when I get back." She says before getting her keys and leaving. You then sob. Letting it all out as you shakily grab your phone going to the only person who knows how to comfort you. Ellie.

When she arrives not long after, giving a honk. You go outside and get in the passenger seat. "Off anywhere?" You shake your head. "No that's alright. I don't want to get yelled at.." Ellie sighs. "Bub, you can't keep letting her treat you like this-" "if I left I'd have nowhere to go Els.." She keeps looking at you. "Yes you do. Mine." You let out a small breath looking down at your hands. "Everythings so messy." She nods, even if you can't see. "I know angel but my offer still and will forever stand. I think you should take it." You just wipe the small tears forming at your eyes. "How was your day?" She hates how you change the subject. She always has. She wants to talk about it with you more. Comfort you more. "Pretty easy going. Do you want a hug love?" You shake your head. "Its best if you don't come near me right now-" "I promise it's not gunna affect me if you cry. You know that." You nod. "I know, but I'm sick- thats why she yelled at me.." She furrows her brows. "She got mad at you because you weren't feeling well? What a fucking bitch." You sigh, in the midst of a slight cough. "Angel you should go back in and rest. Let me help-" You immediately shake your head. "She'd know you were there. I- I couldn't risk that." You always felt awful. Not because you got yelled at but because she would want to pick a fight with Ellie too. Ellie was older then Iz too, more mature. Never bought into her crap. "I'll make sure she doesn't yell at you, you really need rest you work your ass off-" You stop her talking. "I don't want her to try anything with you Els." She shakes her head. "She won't. I promise just let me make you some soup and tuck you in. Please, just that." You contemplate whether or not you should but you nod regardless.

She was making the soup trying to be as speedy in hopes she wouldn't bump into Isabel. "Here you go. Say you made it for yourself. I also cleaned a lil." She sends you a wink. And when she says a lil she means the whole lot. "Els, you seriously didn't have to." She smiles gently. "No but I wanted to. I also made something else. Knowing grump would be hungry when she gets back." You look at her so thankful. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you." She gives you a kiss on the head. "Call if you need anything else. I love you." She says while looking in your eyes. "I love you too Els." You respond sweetly. Oh how stupid you were to realize how INlove she was with you. But she plans to show you sooner or later. As she's the one you should truly, be with.

[archangeldyke-all]

slow living reader and sev having a baby? 🥹

AWE of course!

also! this is the fifth little blurb for this series so i'm giving it an emoji on my masterlist! 💐 lets do a little bouquet of flowers because i picture a bunch of wildflowers surrounding your garden :)

men and minors dni

sevika doesn't fuck around when it comes to your pregnancy. so while you're used to getting up in the early morning and spending a couple hours on your hands and knees in the garden and hauling wheelbarrows around your property-- the moment you find out you're pregnant, sevika puts you on a ban from all physical activity.

it's ridiculous. you're barely three weeks pregnant, and sevika's insisting on helping you carry a gallon of milk in from the goat pen. just a gallon.

it's sort of nice though. your baby certainly takes after sevika, if it's appetite is anything to go by. while you're usually happy snacking on snap peas and berries from your garden all day until dinner, where you eat a hearty meal cooked by sevika: now you're shoveling half a dozen scrambled eggs down your throat in the morning, eating through a month's worth of cheese and crackers in the afternoon, and snacking on spicy pickles when you can't sleep in the middle of the night.

sevika finds it hilarious. you guys buy a few more ducks to keep up with the rate your house is eating eggs.

as annoying as she is when she's insisting you don't do anything, she does a fairly decent job of handling the garden herself. after a few afternoons of standing over her to supervise as she weeded to make sure she didn't pull any of your crops on accident, she made a little custom set up for you in the garden: a big sun umbrella covering a reclining lawn chair, a battery-powered fan, ice-cold pitcher of water, and big bowl of sunflower seeds waiting for you each afternoon.

it's become your favorite part of the day: lounging and snacking and chatting with your wife while she learns more about the garden, one of your hands on your growing belly, the other reaching out to pull sevika down for a kiss every ten minutes.

the cats start becoming really protective of you. a few of the older mother goats do too-- recognizing that you're pregnant. you never have a moment to yourself once you start showing, there's always a cat or two standing on guard to make sure you're okay while you wander around your home.

what you used to call 'the cats room' is now your baby's. all the cat trees, beds, and toys have migrated to the basement to make room for a bunch of furniture sevika hand-made.

a crib that can transform into a kids' bed when the kid gets older, a dresser that can last a lifetime, a rocking chair and stool for you to nurse in, and a gorgeous bookshelf for you to fill with toys and books for your baby. sevika made it all in at her little woodworking station in the storage shed by the goat's pen. each piece of furniture is inscribed with a message that makes you sob each time you see it, a simple, sweet, 'for our sweet baby.'

you know that once the baby comes, it'll be a few years before you and sevika can fully adjust and get back to growing all your own food. so, you guys start stocking up on produce and meat-slabs from local farms nearby.

you don't make it to the hospital when the baby comes. you planned to deliver in the hospital, you wanted a fucking epidural, but your baby came out of nowhere a week early.

one minute you were laughing at sevika struggling to prune the watermelon vines, the next minute your water was breaking and you were going into labor right on the reclining chair you'd spent a majority of your pregnancy on.

it doesn't take long to realize that you're not going to make it to the hospital. you know something's wrong when you try to stand.

"sevika!" you gasp. she's staring at you like a deer in headlights as she holds you up.

"what, honey, what's wrong?"

"fuck, baby, i think it's coming now." you whine.

sevika sits you back down on the chair, helps you get your bottom half naked, then looks between your legs.

"is it bad?" you start to cry, the pain and adrenaline needing an escape.

sevika's panicked, you can see it in her eyes, but she doesn't let it show as she speaks. "it's exactly what it's supposed to be, baby. but i think you're right. i think you gotta push."

you start to freak out. "sevika! we can't have our baby here! it's the garden, there's dirt everywhere! we don't even have clean towels and fuck!" you growl as a contraction overtakes you. sevika's pressing kisses to your knuckles as you grip her hands. "sevika, you're not a doctor!" you cry.

she chuckles, reaches up to kiss your head, and then kneels between your legs again.

"i delivered the goats when marnie got pregnant a few years ago." she tries.

"i'm not a fucking goat!" you scream.

and then--

little tiny cries fill the garden, and all your pain washes away. sevika looks up from between your legs, grinning and sobbing, and then she stands.

and wiggling and screaming in her arms, umbliical cord still attatched, is your little fucker.

"it's a girl." she whispers, leaning down to pass the baby to you.

you take a shaky breath, and then burst into tears upon seeing your baby. she looks just like sevika. it's uncanny. "she's so fucking beautiful." you cry.

sevika wraps your baby up in her shirt, cuts the cord with the gardening shears, and throws your placenta right on top of the compost pile before she starts guiding the two of you toward the car to take you to the hospital.

you have to keep reminding her to drive-- she'll pull up to a red light and get distracted looking at you and your baby in your arms in the passenger's seat. you get honked at a few times, but you don't mind.

not when she's looking at you like that and you've got her baby in your arms.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Ok but Lee Russell and fem teacher reader supervising the prom?? Maybe sneaking away (leaving gamby to fend for himself l m a o) for a little canoodling

Lee Russell x Fem!Teacher

omg YES I love love love this, I was thinking of writing something like this and now with the requestI have to follow through!

cw: smut, nothing too crazy, cream pie, p in v

~~~

To your dismay, you were one of the teachers chosen to chaperon the Prom this year. It being mandatory for you to actually dress semi-formal and look presentable. Flustered with the fact you would be spending your Saturday night surrounded in a lake of horned up teenagers trying their hardest to do anything and everything sneaky.

There was one bright side though.

Your secret hookup buddy would also be chaperoning. Lee Russell, one of the Vice Principals at North Jackson High School. Someone you had grown rather fond of in the last year. After payday drinks one night, you had found yourself tangled with him in the backseat of his car. Over the next couple of months, you had continued casual hookups at any opportunity.

You examined yourself in the mirror. Fixing any lose hairs you had, wiping the lipstick off your teeth. You thought you looked good. Heading out to meet your fellow chaperones. You and Neal Gamby pulled into the parking lot around the same time. Looking over at each other and exchanging awkward waves. Neither of you wanted to be there.

You walked in side-by-side, complaining about the night you had ahead of you the whole way in. Lee Russell stood in the hallway right outside the gym, directing the DJ where to take his things. Turning with hands on his hips to meet you both, "Bout time y'all got here." He wore a nicer black suit with an orange tie popping in color. "Gamby, get in there and sort things out," Lee pointed into the gymnasium. Neal blew his breath out, stomping his way into the dark room.

Smiling as he walked over to you, hands finding your hips instantly. You smiled widely at him, "You look handsome this evening." Lee pressed his lips to yours tenderly, "And you look ravishing, my dear." Kiss was short lasted as Neal Gamby came back yelling for Lee.

“Russell! Get your ass in here and help me with these god forsaken decorations,” Gamby’s vein popped out on his forehead.

“Jesus, Gamby can’t you do anything on your own. Always needing me to come to your rescue,” he looked over his shoulder smiling at you. The three of you walked into the illuminated gymnasium. Disco strobes painted the walls, tables with clothes over them on the floor. Other teachers were decorating as the cafeteria staff brought in the food for the students who would be arriving shortly.

You spent the next hour making sure everything was in place. DJ had started playing some music to set the mood. All of you bobbing your heads to the beat of older hits, some faculty singing along. Everyone was designated an area to make sure things went smoothly. You and Lee ended up being the one to check students in, making sure they all had tickets before entering. For an hour, students dressed in their finest clothes rolled through the doors. Giddy for the dance they had been waiting all year to arrive.

Double checking that every name was marked off the list, you and Lee sat alone at the fold out table.

“I think that’s everyone who signed up. Guess we can lock the doors now,” you stood up, stretching your back. Lee spun his keys around his finger going over and making sure no one could get in. Turning around and bearing a bright smile.

“Ready to go out to the dance floor?” Lee’s hands rested on your hips, leaning down and placing a tender kiss on you. You rolled your eyes, “Been looking forward to it all week.” Sarcasm painted your tone as Lee laughed, “I know you didn’t wanna be here, sweetheart. But I didn’t wanna be here without you.” Your cheeks grew hot with his sweetness. You both walked into the loud gymnasium. Seas of students dancing to pop hits, some awkwardly sitting at table or leaned against the stacked up bleachers. Meeting Gamby at the base of the stage directly next to one of the booming speakers.

“List all clear?” He shouted over the music. You nodded, “We double checked it and everything.”

“All these little fuckers are trying to dance awfully close,” Gamby scowled.

“Calm down, Gamby. It’s prom. After graduation next week we won’t half to deal with half these kids,” Lee propped a hand on Gamby’s shoulder.

Lee looked around the room, face falling into shock. “Oh my God, Gamby, look over there!” He pointed at some students with a flask attempting to pour it into the punch bowl.

“Motherfuckers!” Gamby rushed through the crowd of students to get to them. Lee chuckled, scanning the area around you both. No one was paying attention to either of you.

Lee interlocked fingers with you, pulling you behind the stage. "Where are we going?" you questioned, your voice not above a whisper. Lee's free hand went up to his lips shushing you. He opened the door to the band storage closet, pulling you inside with him. Complete darkness. Your eyes fought to adjust to the void. Feverish lips latched onto yours. Hands finding your hips and pushing your back against the wall. Clanking of some metal instruments filled the room as Lee's tongue found its way into your mouth.

"You have no right looking as good as you do tonight," Lee growled between kisses. Lips finding your neck, sloppy kisses decorating it. Lee's hands groped at your chest, pawing at the tender skin there. Pinching at your nipples through your dress, pulling a moan from you. "Yeah, now that's what I like to hear," Lee cooed at your sounds.

“Don’t we need to be out there watching the kids?” You spoke softly.

“Fuck those brats. They’re all gonna do what they want anyway doesn’t matter if we’re out there. Besides, Gamby can handle it,” Lee pressed his lips back into yours. His hands roamed every inch of your body, lips never breaking away from yours.

Gamby screaming your names in the hallway broke you away for a second. Both of you turning to stare at the door. Lee’s hand going to cover your mouth. His other hand fondling your soaking core. Fighting the moans that begged to creep out of you. You both held your breath when you saw the shadow of his shoes walk past the door. Stomping feet and the slam of a door letting you know he had gone elsewhere. You both sighed in relief.

Lee’s mouth latched back onto your neck, fingers teasing up under your dress. Tracing your clothed folds. “This pussy’s always so wet for me,” he purred against your throat. Lips climbing to your jaw, soft kisses planted along is landing below your ear. Your hands ghosted down his body, resting on his tent in his slacks. Palming him through the material. Lee groaned at your touch, hot breath against your skin. Your lips found their place on his throat. His hand tangling in your hair as you nipped at his jugular. Leaving tiny purple marks on him.

“Fuck… you know how to use that mouth, sweetheart,” Lee praised lost in the feeling. “You know I do,” you whispered against his skin. Hands found the buckle of his belt, undoing it and unzipping his pants. You ran the tips of your fingers around the band of his underwear, pulling a shaky breath from him. Diving deeper and wrapping your hand around his hard member. Lee sighed at the contact. You stroked him pulling moans and praises from him. His eyes squinted shut taking in every movement you gave him.

“God, let me fuck you,” Lee pressed his lips into yours. Hands scooping up your dress and pushing it as high as possible. Pulling his cock from his drawers, stroking himself as he watched you pull your panties down your legs. He grabbed one of your legs, hitching it around his waist as he lined himself up with your entrance. The head of his cock brushing your sensitivity before delving in. He bottomed out with his first thrust. Loud moans filled the small storage room. Mouths breathing the same air as he lingered inside you.

He began a slow and steady pace, stretching you perfectly around him. Lips desperate as tongues explored mouths and teeth clanked together. “Fuck, I missed this. Missed burying myself inside this God sent pussy,” Lee breathed heavy, his hair falling down in front of his face as he picked up his pace. With each harsh thrust squeaks and moans left you. Lee’s fingers found your aching clit, circling it in an attempt to make you finish around him.

“Need you to cum around me, doll. Wanna feel you come undone,” Lee huffed catching his breath. He knew exactly how to get you there. Fingers working rhythmically to pull an orgasm from you. You wrapped your arms around him, meeting his thrusts. You called out to him as you came undone. Walls fluttering around him, pulling him deeper inside you. Lee sheathed himself as deep as possible savoring the way your walls constricted his sensitive dick. He bucked his hips into you searching for his own high. Not far behind you. Warms ropes of him shot into you, his cock twitching as he coated your walls. Your name a moan on his lips. He lingered inside you for a moment, not ready to pull himself out. You could feel your juices leaking down his member most likely staining the front of his pants. Soft lips pressed into yours, his hand cupping your cheek. Hesitantly pulling himself out of you, eyebrows furrowing at the loss of warmth. His cum leaked down your thighs.

Helping you get your footing and flattening out your dress. Lee rested his forehead against yours, swaying back and forth with you in a small ballroom style dance. He hummed along to the song that you could hear through the walls. You ran your hands down his arms, interlocking fingers with him. Smiling at the softness of hand holding.

The door next to you slammed open. Both of you squinted at the bright fluorescent lights shining into the dark room.

“What the fuck are you two doing in here?!” Gamby gritted his teeth.

“Mind your business, Gamby,” Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“We’re here to make sure these kids aren’t fooling around and doing illegal shit. I shouldn’t have to worry that you too snuck off!” Gamby stomped his foot.

“Then don’t worry about it, Neal,” you mimicked Lee’s stance. Lee looked over at you with a shocked smile, slowly laughing at your snarky comeback.

“Get the fuck out here,” a jumble of frustration as he pointed to the hallway.

You laughed with Lee as you exited the storage closet, pulling Gamby’s tie as you walked out. Lee raised his eyebrows, tussling Neal’s hair as he walked past him.

Gamby growled under his breath as he straightened his tie back up and slicked his hair back, “You guys are the worst.”

You and Lee turned back to look at him, laughing together at his frustrated manner.

~~~

[End]

~ Thank you so much for the amazing request. I really love answering these! ~

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