#so you're actually seeing my face you know

[ohmybueckers]

big ole freak - paige bueckers x reader

Summary: you're Paige's sneaky link and have her absolutely wrapped around your finger

Themes & Warnings: kinda sub Paige, driving while intoxicated (this is NOT an endorsement please do NOT do this), car sex, light choking kink, strap-on sex, oral sex, slight degradation, maybe one line of breeding kink, filth, like actual filth (with like a little bit of fluff at the end)

Author's Note: inspired by big ole freak by my mother megan thee stallion y'all i've had this idea brewing for a month so glad it's finally out in the world. special shoutout to my uconn hot girl twin @sierrale8ne and all the other hotties out there. In the wise words of meg... "your honor, i'm a freak bitch." happy reading <3

“He hit my phone with a horse

So I know that mean come over and ride it”

Wednesday nights were hit or miss at UConn - either you loaded all of your courses on Monday and Wednesday and had the night to chill, or you were prepping for a horrendous end to your week. You were in the former category, deciding to attend a party hosted by a friend of a friend you hardly knew - labelled a “wine Wednesday” party to anyone who asked why the fuck anyone would throw on a weeknight that wasn’t Thursday. 

You maybe made it through one glass of cheap rose before your night evolved how most nights ended up in the not-so-bustling town of Storrs, Connecticut: sitting out by the fire pit of the beaten down rental house with your friends in a circle, passing a joint around and talking shit (about professors, exes, parents… no one was off limits in the rotation) under the glow of some poorly strung lights.

Though you hadn’t touched another glass since your first inhale, knowing that you were not risking getting crossfaded tonight, it didn’t help much. You always seemed to forget that weed and parties did not mix well for you. Every sound felt heightened yet muffled at the same time, from the bass of the music to the conversation your friends were having around you. Your skin burned, heat flooding down your back in a way that almost made you squirm.

You needed an out, and soon.

Your savior came in the form of two buzzes in quick succession from your phone on your lap. Though you typically aimed at staying present when surrounded by others, you ruled this as a worthy exception. You lifted it, immediately shifting it away from your friends’ view as you read the texts from the all too familiar contact.

Paige: wyd rn?

Paige: wanna see you tonight pretty girl

“Nobody know, I fuck with him on the low”

If you told the version of yourself two months ago that you would end up fucking Paige Bueckers, she would have laughed in your face. It was no secret to anyone in your friend group, many of whom had come in close contact with UConn athletes, that she had an extensive history, none of them sticking around for longer than a couple of nights. You refused to be yet another victim to community dick (in this case, community strap). Maybe you would be a little less put off by the idea of getting with someone with a reputation like Paige if she wasn’t so cocky about it, like she got off on the idea that girls were obsessed with her. 

And then the two of you met on a night out at Ted’s, where she insisted on buying your drink (you told your friends afterwards that you let her for economical reasons). You attempted to stick with your friends that night, tired of your past filled with messy hookups that never led anywhere, but of course they all decided to mingle with the basketball team. Meaning Paige had the rest of the night to throw looks your way, practically eye fucking you. You hated to admit it, but you understood why girls were into Paige beyond aesthetic reasons: she was incredibly witty, quick to poke gentle fun at her friends while also making jokes about herself. Though it was clear in the few times she brought it up she loved what she did, it didn’t feel like the entire conversation revolved around her being a basketball star. And you couldn’t deny the way her gaze made you feel, like you were the only person there. And you hated it.

When you allowed Paige to put her number in your phone, you would also insist that it was due to bragging rights and had no intention of contacting her again. And when you texted her that night with just your name, you almost convinced yourself it was just the polite thing to do.

The two of you texted frequently throughout the week, with some time between messages due to her busy practice schedule and your insistence on not seeming like an overly obsessed groupie. You didn’t need to fuel her ego, no matter how much her attempts at flirting caused an ache between your thighs and how many times you’ve resorted to nights alone in your room, a chorus of moans filling the space as images of blue eyes and toned arms overwhelm you. Sure, you wanted to fuck her. But one thing you knew: if it was happening, it was happening under your terms.

It finally did around a week later, after a great afternoon showing for the Huskies in Gampel Pavilion. You stood in the student section, watching her light up the court in ways very few people could. The crowd was electric with every assist she made to Azzi, every time she made a clean three point shot, and with every effort she made to hype up the crowd. She truly was in her element. you would be lying if you said it didn’t tempt you.

Still buzzed from your tailgate beforehand, you texted her to say congratulations, to which she responded with a trademark Paige Bueckers flirty comment. It was certainly not the first time she had attempted this with you, so you weren’t sure why this time was any different. Maybe it was the liquid courage, but before you could think twice, you replied. 

“want me to show you how winners get treated?”

That’s how you ended the night tangled in Paige’s sheets and long, strong limbs. Basking in your post orgasm glow knowing that throughout the entire exchange you were in control, even when you were receiving. For the first time in a long, long time, a hookup felt good. 

You and Paige continued texting, this time more frequently. You were fully expecting Paige to be the type to hit it and quit it, as she had done many times before, but having a taste of you just seemed to make her want you more. And yet you never told your friends about any of it. Not because you were ashamed or anything, but because you knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. It almost never did with athletes, even ones that kiss your forehead and text you good morning every day. Though you were fully expecting it to end at some point, you really didn’t want to deal with your friends making it a huge deal. Even if there was a little part of you, a voice in your head you did everything to silence, that told you maybe you didn’t want her to go.

“We never show up together but I text him when I'm ready to go”

A half assed excuse left your lips as you walked away from the couch circle and closer to the trees, far enough away so nobody would hear when you pressed an all too familiar contact and made the call. The phone hardly needed to ring one time before her end of the line was overwhelmed by a cacophony of loud voices. Unless your ears were deceiving you, you swore you could hear KK scream “liar!” at someone

“Hey pretty gir- aye! Be quiet one moment!” Her attempt at being quiet quickly escalated to a yell, presumably at one of her teammates, before returning to your conversation with an apologetic tone, “Sorry, I’m at Aubrey’s.”

Why the UConn girls were seemingly partying on a Wednesday night was beyond your comprehension, but it was honestly the last thing on your mind in that moment. “‘Wanna see you tonight’, huh? Tryin to ditch your teammates?”

“They’re all too invested in Mario Party to care. Besides,” She paused, her voice getting quieter (and unless you were hearing things wrong, more vulnerable), “It’s worth it for you.”

You knew what you wanted, and boy you were going to get it. With a sickly sweet grin you asked, “Pick me up in ten?”

“I had a couple of shots at the bar

I'm finna play with that dick in the car"

You knew the second you shut the door to Paige’s car and kissed her that she had been drinking that night, the presence of liquor on her lips. You would be so ready to scold her for driving under the influence, tell her she should not play with her life like that, if you weren’t also just appreciative for any out you could get. Besides, as long as she was telling the truth, she was only a couple shots deep. The weed in your system had dulled down at this point, and instead of feeling overwhelmed from the noise around you, you were overwhelmed by the urge to have Paige the way you wanted to. especially with how she looked now, glasses on and hair thrown into a messy ponytail, silver chain accessorizing her sweat set. God, you didn’t even know if you could make it to her bed.

“This new?” She asks about two minutes into the twelve minute drive, gesturing to your top. It was an old one, found in the bottom of one of your bins of clothes while you were searching for a going out top that would allow you to put off doing laundry for another day. It worked well enough - a simple crop top with a flattering neckline. “Looks really good.”

“Nah, kept it from freshman year,” You replied, head braced by your arm against the side of the car staring at the girl next to you. Paige had a grip on her steering wheel, eyes focused on the practically empty roads leading to her apartment. A part of you was very thankful she was being cautious given the circumstances. But another part of you, a more sinister voice, wanted to try something.

Your manicured hands traced up your torso, your own touch nearly making you gasp. Damn, you really were that desperate. Your nails played with the hem of your shirt, gently pulling it up towards your breasts as the air conditioning hit more and more of your skin. “This is new though.”

Paige hit a red light, making a confused sound before her eyes met yours. They didn’t stay there long before trailing down, past your neck and to the bra that currently had your tits pushed to the sky, one hand reaching around to cup one as you licked your lips. Your top could hardly be considered one anymore, pooled at your collarbone as you continued touching yourself. You maintained your gaze, looking at the blonde like she was prey as her tongue met her cheek inside her mouth, a loud swallow going down her throat.

When she finally spoke, it was a breathless chuckle that revealed just what kind of effect you had on her as she shook her head. “You’re something else.”

The green light flashed into the car, prompting her to return her gaze back to the road and press on the gas. Google Maps said you were eight minutes away, but judging by the way your finger was tracing around your bra covered nipple, you weren’t sure if you could wait that long. And if the way Paige’s eyes were bugging out of her head at the road attempting to not look at you were any indication, you knew she felt the same. “Paige?”

“Mhmm?” She asked through gritted teeth, hanging on to her last thread of self control.

“Pull over.”

————

“That’s it, just like that… fuck.”

You nodded in Paige’s pussy, nails grazing her thighs. The set up could be more ideal: All six feet of her were crammed in the backseat, sweats pooled at her ankles as you sat almost diagonal in order to have a more comfortable position. Neither of you really seemed to care all that much, too intoxicated off of each other and your respective substances. Besides, judging by the way Paige massaged your neck and whined, you wouldn’t be here long.

You only needed two more minutes eating Paige out like she was your last meal before her grip tightened at the back of your neck, cumming with a cry of your name. You ate her through it, slurping her up like ice cream before slowly rising, placing a kiss to her lips so she could taste herself. She hummed with contentment into the kiss, cupping your jaw tenderly. You separated, your smirk cocky as her hand traced back down your neck, feeling the soft material of your bra for herself. “So fucking pretty,” she whispered to herself, eyes trained on how the color of the garment made your skin look radiant. Her hands switched directions, gently tracing up before reaching your neck and applying pressure with hungry eyes.

“We’re going home. Need to see you cum on my dick now.”

“I'ma make him wait for the pussy

Hit it 'til he big ole skeet”

The rest of the car ride was uneventful, Paige keeping a grip on your thigh as music propelled you guys into her parking lot. When you reached her apartment, you were ready for the inevitable fight for dominance between the two of you. Instead, Paige merely hung her keys on her hook and moved to the kitchen. “Want any water?”

You almost laugh as you follow her in, as if she was pranking you. “What are you, all talk and no game?” You joke, still taking the offer. Despite drinking Paige up just moments prior, you were very aware of just how dry your mouth was.

Paige smirked, taking a sip of her own water before grazing your torso with her hands. “Just tryna be chivalrous, ma.” 

You took a big gulp of water, allowing yourself to sink into the feeling of Paige’s touch before setting the glass down. “Don’t need all that,” You murmur, the pads of your fingers playing with the hem of Paige’s hoodie. You look up, maneuvering yourself so your lips were as close to her ear as possible before murmuring. “Just need you.” 

“Oh yeah?” She teases, already beginning to back you towards her bedroom, her tall frame overwhelming yours. Now this is what you came here for: the feeling of her tongue slipping in your mouth as your lips collided, the feeling of her properly undressing you as soon as her door shut behind you, and the gravel in her voice as she commands you to “get on the bed”.

“You have no fucking idea how bad i’ve wanted this,” Paige growled, crawling above you and connecting your lips once more before peppering them down to your neck. You couldn’t help but sigh, deciding that you would put up with a million lackluster parties if they all ended like this.“These perfect tits.” She moved to toss your bra on her floor before licking around your nipple, sucking on your breast and surely leaving a mark - she always found a way to, much to your chagrin. You allowed yourself to take pleasure in the feeling for a moment, resting up before your next move. Because while you moments like these with Paige, there was no way in hell you were letting her think the dynamic switched.

With a swift move that even left yourself dumbfounded at your abilities , you hooked a leg around her and flipped the basketball player over, catching yourself with both hands on the mattress. Paige’s jaw dropped, equally shocked and impressed. “Woah.”

“I thought you’d figure out by now that I’m in charge here,” You quipped, gaining enough composure quickly to maintain the persona you wanted. You were going to fuck Paige just as much as she was fucking you. You quickly made the executive decision that Paige was wearing far too many clothes, gesturing her to raise her arms before moving to help her remove her hoodie leaving her in her sweats and a sports bra - very typical Paige attire. You nipped, kissed, and sucked above her chest in the areas not covered by the sports bra, careful to avoid her neck or any other areas that would be visible in a jersey. At one point, you took the chain she wore in your mouth, feeling the cold metal against your lips. Paige groaned, attempting to tug your mouth back on to hers by lifting you from your waist. You tsk, “Be patient.”

“You’re making patience really hard, sweetheart.” She states through gritted teeth, one hand moving to your hair and tugging to make a point. She was desperate tonight, just the way you liked her. 

Deciding to give her a little taste of you, you sat up so only your ass made contact with her, sitting plush against her pelvis. Need to see you cum on my dick now, her voice repeated in your head. with a mischievous glint. Slowly, you began grinding your hips, your ass hitting against her. “This what you want?”

She threw her head back, realizing what you were mimicking. “Please.”

“Beg.”

You would think you said something far more outrageous the way she looked up at you, eyebrows raised. “You crazy? nah!”

Typical Paige, not one to give up without a fight. You knew all too well how this would end though.“Suit yourself.” You shrugged, continuing your actions from before, this time trailing a hand down your short skirt and lightly touching yourself through your panties.

“Fuck baby,” She swore she could feel how wet you were as you continued rolling your hips, giving her a preview of everything she could have if she just put her ego aside. “You’re killing me right now.”

“I think I know what would fix that,” you purred.

“Oh fuck,” her voice was almost strangled, any ounce of dignity she had quickly leaving her body and being replaced by the urge to make you feel good. Her eyes appeared as though they were welling up as she pleaded with you. “Please let me fuck you. Would do anything to make you feel good.”

A smile spread across your face, knowing you finally had her exactly where you wanted her. You paused your teasing, swinging your leg back aroundand reaching a standing position. Her eyes followed you, her gaze equally confused and frustrated, before she recognized the box you were reaching for in her drawer. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You asked, harness and dildo in hand as you sauntered back over to the bed.

“Ain't nobody freak like me

Give ya what you need like me

Ain't nobody got on they tip, tip toes and rode to the tip like me”

You were putting on a whole ass show for her. Your feet were positioned on each side of of her, providing stability as you bounced on her silicon dick like your life depended on it. Your tits bounced with each impact your bodies made. The room was quiet (save for the sound of both of your moans and the dull buzz of the vibrator against Paige within the strap), but it was like you were moving to a melody, alternating between fast moments of riding her and slower moments where you simply moved your hips, allowing yourself to bask in the pleasure.

Paige laid back against the pillows, practically mesmerized at the sight of you as you ran a hand through your hair, throwing your head back in the process. “Holy shit.”

“Any other girls fucking you like this, baby?” You don’t know why you felt the need to ask. For one, you were very confident in your abilities, and you also knew that Paige was likely still going home with other girls. It’s not a topic you ever cared enough to approach. 

“No other girls anymore. None could make me cum like you,” Paige shook her head, moving to grab your waist and help facilitate your movements as if she was seeking any form of control she could get. “Riding my dick like a slut, baby, fuck.”

Your eyes wandered a bit, over to the collection of photographs on Paige’s wall, the number of awards given, all the way to one particular object. Your hips began to slow progressively until they came to a complete stop, prompting a disappointed groan from the blonde beneath you.

“Stand up. I wanna try something new.”

“I want to fuck in the mirror, I like to look at your face when you in it

Come in the room and I'm giving commands

I am the captain and he the lieutenant”

The sides of the chair you were gripping were cold, in contrast to the heat rushing through the rest of your body. Paige stood behind you, pounding into you from behind as the both of you took full advantage of the full length mirror beside you giving you a full view of everything - and by everything, you meant everything, from the way Paige’s hair looked entirely fucked out to the wetness dripping down her thighs.

Paige’s eyes squeezed shut, unable to handle the way your ass looked rippling against her, how your waist fit in her hands as she slammed you back, and she especially could not handle the way you were looking at her in the mirror. “Baby imma bust,” she moaned, her words slurred together. She was too drunk off of you.

“Hold it. I’m almost there,” you instructed, reaching down to rub circles around your clit. You were dripping, cream forming a ring around Paige’s strap. You moved your hips, twerking on her dick as you looked back at it. Paige was convinced in that moment that if it were not anatomically impossible, she would have absolutely accidentally knocked you up in that moment.

“Need to cum so bad, baby. You feel so good, so fucking fine.” 

The warmth that once rushed through you from the joint was now accumulating to your core. It was all becoming too much, even more so when she slapped your hand away to help rub hard circles on you, her desperation a mix of wanting to be the reason you finished as well as the realization that she was going to blow any moment. 

“Gonna cum.” You finally moan, feeling as though your legs may snap as you let go. Paige was not far behind, gripping your waist and burying her head in your neck as she pressed herself to the base inside of you. 

“Usually I like to fuck

But tonight we gon' make love 'cause you bae”

You attempted to catch your breath as you laid down next to Paige. She had both hands on the sides of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You’re so perfect,” She murmured, eyelids drooping as she fought the urge to pass out then and there. Her touch was less possessive this time and more tender, cupping your skin as if it were made of glass.

You let out a breathy laugh at her words, almost like you couldn’t believe them, yet you couldn’t stop the way your body nuzzled into hers further. “You’re just happy you got laid tonight,” You quipped.

“I don’t mean it like that. you know I don’t.”

Perhaps one of the most important rules of hooking up with an athlete, especially one as high profile as Paige, is to never believe a word they say. So you felt a little silly when you took note of how her blue eyes gazed at you, waking up enough to make eye contact to show you that this was the truth. It felt worse when you felt your heart skip a beat at the realization. In fact, it scared the hell out of you. 

“Stay the night tonight,” She whispered. You had never heard her sound like that, so out of control and at your whim. She was scared too. “I don’t want you to leave.”

You nodded, pushing past the voice in your head screaming at you to run just as you had after every other night you and Paige shared. You were tired, and Paige was right there, and it was just not the time to listen to your head over your heart. “Okay.”

You would deal with logistics later. All you needed now was tonight.

[harrysfolklore]

31st - hs

happy birthday to the one and only love of my life 🥹🥹 31 omg! i hope he has the best day ever <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You woke up early on February 1st, carefully slipping out of bed without disturbing Harry, who was still peacefully sleeping. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, reflecting light across his face. At 31, he was somehow even more beautiful than when you'd first met him - a few more laugh lines around his eyes, his curls slightly shorter now, but still undeniably your Harry.

Making your way to the kitchen, you began the birthday breakfast preparations you'd been planning for days. You started brewing his favorite coffee and pulled out the ingredients for the banana pancakes he loved so much.

As you worked, you couldn't help but smile, remembering his 30th birthday last year - the big party, all their friends and family gathered together. This year, though, Harry had asked for something quieter, more intimate. "Just us," he'd said, "maybe dinner with family later."

The sound of footsteps made you look up, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe in his pajama bottoms and that old Rolling Stones t-shirt you loved so much.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," you scolded playfully, whisking the pancake batter.

"Bed was cold without you," he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. His hair was adorably mussed, and he had pillow creases on his cheek. "Besides, something smells amazing."

"Happy birthday, love," you said softly, abandoning your cooking to wrap your arms around him.

He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Thank you, baby."

"Thirty-one," you mused, running your fingers through his hair. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?" He pulled back to look at you, his green eyes twinkling. "Pretty much the same as thirty. Though I did find another grey hair yesterday."

You laughed, reaching up to touch the single silver strand at his temple. "I think it makes you look distinguished."

"Distinguished?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Mhmm," you nodded seriously. "Very sophisticated. Very George Clooney."

"Oi!" He tickled your sides, making you squeal. "I'm not that old yet!"

The pancakes were momentarily forgotten as you both dissolved into laughter, play-fighting in the kitchen like teenagers. Finally, Harry pulled you close again, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"You know," he murmured, "this is already my favorite birthday."

"It's barely started!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm here with you, in our kitchen, and you're making me breakfast. What could be better?"

Your heart swelled with love for this man who could find joy in the simplest moments. "Well, it might get even better when you see your presents."

His eyes lit up like a child's. "Presents? But you said we weren't doing big gifts this year!"

"And we're not," you assured him, turning back to the pancakes before they burned. "Just a few small things. Though..." you paused for dramatic effect, "there might be tickets to that vintage guitar show in Nashville you were talking about."

Harry's gasp of delight made you laugh. "Really? The one with the '59 Les Paul?"

"Maybe," you sang, flipping a pancake. "You'll have to wait and see."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you cook. "Have I told you lately that you're the best wife ever?"

You felt your cheeks flush at the word 'wife,' still not quite used to hearing it spoken aloud. After nearly a year of marriage, it was still your precious secret, shared only with family and closest friends. The ring on your finger was usually hidden away in public, and you'd both become experts at careful wording in interviews.

"Shh," you teased, though your heart fluttered at his words. "The walls might have ears."

Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You know, I've been thinking about that actually."

"About what?" you asked, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

He turned you around gently, his expression thoughtful. "About keeping it secret. Don't get me wrong, this past year has been incredible, having something that's just ours. But sometimes..." he paused, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I just want to tell the whole world that I'm married to the most amazing woman."

You set down the spatula, studying his face. "Really? You want to go public?"

"Only if you're ready," he said quickly. "But yeah, I do. It's been almost a year, and honestly, I'm tired of not being able to call you my wife whenever I want to. Of having to take my ring off for appearances. Of watching you do the same."

Your heart raced at the possibility. "It would change things," you said softly. "The privacy we've had..."

"I know," he nodded, taking your hands in his. "But maybe... maybe it's time. And what better day than my birthday? We could post something simple, just us."

You thought about it for a moment. The past year had been magical, your private bubble of newlywed bliss protected from the public eye. But he was right - there was something exhausting about constantly hiding, about choosing your words so carefully, about slipping your rings off before stepping outside.

"Okay," you finally said, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. "But after breakfast! These pancakes are getting cold."

Later, after breakfast and presents, you both sat on the couch, phones in hand. You'd chosen a simple photo from your wedding day - just your hands intertwined, both wearing your rings, nothing too revealing but unmistakably a wedding photo.

"Ready?" he asked, his thumb hovering over the 'post' button.

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Ready."

With a click, your secret was out in the world. You both turned your phones to silent, knowing they would explode with notifications any second.

"How does it feel?" Harry asked, pulling you close.

You twisted your ring, which for the first time wouldn't have to come off when you left the house later. "Liberating," you decided. "Scary, but good scary."

"No more hiding," he agreed, kissing your temple.

"No more hiding," you repeated, then laughed. "Your mum's going to be thrilled. She's been dying to post those wedding photos."

"Oh God," Harry groaned good-naturedly. "She's probably already sharing them as we speak."

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying this quiet moment before the world would inevitably explode with the news. "Happy birthday, H. Sorry I kind of hijacked it with our announcement."

"Are you kidding?" He grinned down at you. "This is the best gift you could have given me. Now everyone knows I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Charmer," you muttered, but you were smiling.

"Your charmer," he corrected, then added with obvious delight, "Your husband."

"My husband," you agreed, loving how it felt to say it out loud, knowing you wouldn't have to whisper it anymore.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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harrystyles Best birthday gift was marrying my soulmate almost a year ago. Thank you for keeping our secret. ❤️

February, 2024

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username1 WHAT THE HELL

username2 IS THIS A JOKE

taylorswift Finally!! 🥂 Keeping this secret was TORTURE. So happy for you both ♥️

gemmastyles Bbout time you two told everyone!! now i can finally post all the cute photos from the wedding 😭💕

lizzo YALL I WAS AT THE WEDDING AND HAD TO PRETEND I WASNT THIS WHOLE TIME 😭 CONGRATS AGAIN BESTIES

niallhoran The most beautiful day! Love you both!

yourinstagram Finally 🤍 Happy birthday to my husband (!!!) who makes every day feel like a love song. Thank you for choosing me, always.

username3 HUSBAND???????? MARRIED????????? IM SHAKING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

username4 OH MY GOD THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG. REMEMBER WHEN HE KEPT TOUCHING HIS RING FINGER IN THAT ONE INTERVIEW??

username5 not me zooming in on every detail of this photo 👀 THE RINGS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL IM SOBBING

username6 the way they kept this secret for a YEAR?? we love a private couple

username7 HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN

username8 im so happy for them but also crying in the club rn 😭

username9 THE WAY YN JUST CALLED HIM HUSBAND IM SCREAMING

username10 not me thinking about how they had a whole secret wedding and we had no idea 😭 they're so powerful

username11 "best birthday gift" STOP IM CRYING THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Paddock Princess

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: jude bellingham x fem!black!f1driver!reader

♥ synopsis: your boyfriend jude bellingham is welcomed with open arms by the f1 community and becomes the people’s paddock’s princess

♥ smau - fc: tyla - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive comments !!!

♥ a/n: never let em know your next move WAPOW jude fic.

-Jude Bellingham Replies to Fans on the Internet | Actually Me | GQ Sports-

“We know about your inspiration in football, but which athletes outside of football do you look up to—if any?” he read off a laptop screen.

“Uhm,” he scratched the bridge of his nose. “Probably Y/n L/n,” His face lit up with a smile as the camera crew giggled in the background. “She’s done quite a lot in her sport in such a short amount of time and I really admire her driving style, if i’m being honest. Yeah, I’ve been spending a lot of my time watching F1 recently, so probably her.”

He sent the reply and leaned back on the chair, “This is peak journalism.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmundt, judebellingham, and 1,494,027 more

yourusername i heard someone say my name?

view comments

realmadrid you heard correctly

user1 exposing him 🙊

user2 @/user1 I'm sure she's seen the video by now

user3 I wish he said my name instead tbh

user4 I wish he would do more than just say my name

user5 @/user4 SO REAL

user6 the someone in question who said her name being the hottest madrid player

yourusername @/user6 that's debatable

judebellingham @/yourusername ???

user7 have you and jude met before? I know you spend a lot of time watching madrid 🤔

yourusername hopefully I'll see him soon !!

user10 @/yourusername that doesn't answer the question...

carlossainz55 @/yourusername I can take you to meet him under one condition

yourusername @/carlossainz55 I already told you I can't give you the Ferrari seat back 😭

carlossainz55 it was worth a shot

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, judebellingham, and 1,409,582 more

yourusername first race with you 💋

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scuderiaferrari we're happy to have you ❤️

user7 @/scuderiaferrari did... you buy her those flowers? 😭

user2 @/scuderiaferrari she wasn't talking to you lil bro

user1 I thought she was talking about a secret partner in this post but maybe I'm crazy

user3 @/user1 now I'm confused because I thought the same thing

user5 f1 core is not knowing if y/n made a romantic post about ferrari or a secret lover

scuderiaferrari who's not in love with us? we're hot, fast, and Italian 😉

yourusername @/scuderiaferrari OH 🫣

user6 😨

user8 RAW NEXT QUESTION

user9 why am I blushing

user10 we're not beating the car fucker allegations with this one 🔥🔥🥶

user11 ugh I hate admin. its like why do you post silly comments? what's your @? are you single?

-jude bellingham’s story-

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user1 those flowers look familiar…

user2 ME WHEN

user3 i actually need him so bad

user4 @/yourusername

user5 yn we all know it’s you

liked by judebellingham, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,059,043 more

yourusername I regret to inform you that I am not dating ferrari admin and instead with the lovely @/judebellingham

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judebellingham "regret"? 🤨

yourusername I called you lovely what more do you want

landonorris we all knew you were dating the second he said your name

user1 new lando lore drop he watches jude bellingham videos by himself

landonorris fuck I've been caught

user2 LETS FUCKING GO HARD LAUNCH

user3 oh how I love them

user4 they are the perfect couple

scuderiaferrari I forgive you

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,492,5028 more

judebellingham dw princess has arrived

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yourusername glad you're here 😘

♡ by judebellingham

user1 yes he has 👏

user2 he's so cunty

user5 he wears her jersey hello?? 🥹

yourusername one that still has the tag on it...

judebellingham @/yourusername you didn't see that 😬

user8 wheres the rest of the madrid team?

judebellingham 🤷‍♂️

vinjir @/user8 he didn't invite us

judebellingham @/vinjir wowww snitch 🫵

liked by erling, judbellingham, landonorris, and 502,684 more

yourusername its always great to meet a fan 🫶

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judebellingham I don't really consider myself a "fan" 🫤

yourusername idk you seemed like a pretty big fan of me last night 🫤

user1 oh!

user9 judeyn >>>

user10 god bless these two and all the pr training they ignored

user7 hes so fjdsjkskfj

user6 I need him so bad

yourusername @/user6 same

user8 I'm gonna need full time wag jude from now on

judebellingham quitting my job rn 🏃‍♂️💨

[bi-writes]

hi! i was thinking if you could write an older!boyfriend simon x reader BUT reader is john price's daughter so is kinda of a forbidden and secret relationship !!!! they've been dating for a long time now until john finds out !!!!!

18+

"how is she?"

"doing well, john. but you don't have to worry about her anymore, you know that right? she's not yours to worry about."

"she is mine. i know she's not..." john huffs. "she may not be blood, but she's mine, yeah? so when i ask 'ow she is, you tell me, kate. can we agree on that?"

"sure, john. she's in georgia. her russian got very good. if you want to know my honest opinion, i think she'll be one of my best."

"well...i wouldn't stand for anythin' less."

"john?"

that voice is music to him. he turns, taking his hat off, and he laughs, genuinely, when he sees you. his whole face lights up, and you make your way to him. it's been months since you've seen him in person--even though he makes you send him constant updates about what you're doing and where you are, you find yourself missing this man and the warmth he gives off whenever you are in his proximity.

he's always looked at you so kindly. he's always taken care of you. whenever you pick up the phone, he's always answered.

"'ello, bug."

he crushes you in a warm hug. he puts a hand on the back of your neck and holds you to his chest, and the tension in his shoulders deflates now that he has you with him.

"hi, john. miss me?"

"well...you were the only one with sense in my house."

"you live alone, john."

"aye."

he pours you a hot cup of tea before he makes you tell him all about your new posting. most of it is classified, and you tell him that, but his face lights up when you talk about the new skills you're learning and all the opportunities that kate is giving you. his face scrunches a little when you talk about the more dangerous ops, but john never has the same regard for his own life.

the mess hall gets busy once dinner time rolls around. his men were not expecting you, and that much is clear when they see their captain even enjoying a meal in public and not secluded in his office. you smile at his sergeants, but when your gaze lingers a little longer on the doors, johnny just nudges you with his elbow.

"miss the big guy?"

"what? no."

"he had a long night last night," he wiggles his eyebrows at gaz, who just laughs a little. "i might need to try the whole brooding, scary look LT has got on. attracts the most bonnie things, fuckin' christ."

your plate flies when you stab at your food too hard. the cutlery clatters as it hits the floor, and you jump a little, swallowing.

"are you alright, bug?"

"huh? yeah, oh...yeah, just...fucking clumsy. i...i'm gonna...find the toilet."

the blood is rushing in your ears as you make your way out. you're vibrating, hot inside, and you feel him before you see him, even in your anger.

when he pulls you into the shadow of a nearby supply closet, you swipe the blade out of your boot and hold it up against his throat. even through the mask, the blade bites, and he hisses as you hold him up against the wall there.

"don't fucking touch me," you snarl, and ghost's eyes are bright and alive as he holds his hands up defensively.

"wot--"

"and don't what me," you snap. "actually, don't fucking talk at all, you cheating, manipulative, british piece of shit--"

"look so pretty," he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. "did you do y'r hair, baby?"

"i will kill you."

"'s olright. last thing i see'll be you."

"i'm not fucking kidding, simon!"

he bends a little, tilting his head, and you breathe out through your nose as he leans his forehead against yours.

"reckon ya spoke t'johnny."

you scoff. "told me all about your winnings last night, lieutenant."

"was no winnings, love, don't be so fuckin' naïve." simon swipes at the handle of the blade, curling his gloved fingers around your wrist and forcing it away from him. "y'r just mad cause y'r cunt missed me."

"don't flatter yourself, asshole."

"so if i pull your knickers down right now, y'won't be drippin', swee'eart?"

"that's irrelevant."

"'s not. turn around and bend over."

simon's sorry, so he eats your pussy from behind. he gets down on his knees, and the crack of them satisfies you immensely, up until you feel his mouth between your cheeks, tongue slicking up your folds. you brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the concrete as he puts two gloved hands against your ass and spreads you wide to fit himself nicely there. he hums, groans, makes you whine as he slurps obscenely into your cunt, laving at the drip of you until the taste of you floods his mouth.

"simon..." you whimper. "tell me i-it's not true."

he presses a wet kiss to your ass, biting it firm.

"'s not true, love. promise."

"fuck your promises," you sniffle. "you're a professional liar."

"tha' 'ow it's gonna be, innit? not gonna trust me? believe me?"

you rest your forehead against the cool wall, and the shadow of him envelopes you when he stands. he grunts a little as he gets to his feet. his big hands squeeze at the curve of your waist, and you close your eyes when you feel his breath against your neck.

"i'm sorry, simon."

"for wot?"

"i just...i like you so much. so much."

"come 'ere," he murmurs in your ear. he pulls your hips back, pressing your ass against his pelvis, and you dig your nails into the wall when you hear his belt buckle and zipper. "my pretty girl. my pretty, pretty girl."

"i missed you s-so much, simon."

"i know, love. quiet now. someone'll hear."

it's not the worst place you've fucked. you've snuck quickies in the rec room. behind the mess hall. met up in filthy gas station toilets, fallen into the backseat of a car in the parking lot of numerous military bases. even once, you deigned to suck his dick in his office, and you had to hide behind his couch when john came in to ask about an op.

john had a rule. his men were off-limits. he should've thought about that before he hired a man straight out of your wet dreams for his stupid fucking task force.

you're weak. and simon is a man.

inevitable.

you're a mile into pound-town when someone interrupts. simon is cock-deep inside of you, pelvis up against your ass, one hand braced around your throat and the other squeezing your ass. your eyes are rolled back into your head, and there's drooling coming out of your mouth. it's hot, disgusting, filthy to let him have you like this, but it's been weeks since you've seen him, and the phone calls aren't enough.

you love talking to him. you love when he talks to you. he'll never be annoying to you, you'll never get tired of him, but the distances hurts. you want simon to be all around you--inside of you, against you, his voice in your ear and his mouth against yours and his warmth your only sheet, but you can't bring yourself to do more than this.

you're too afraid of disappointing people. you're too scared of simon's rejection. if your relationship is nothing but fun, nothing but sex, you can pretend it isn't real, but you're just lying to yourself now.

you babble, and it sounds like love, but then the hallway light blinds you, and familiar blue eyes nearly kill you.

"jesus christ!"

simon puts his body in front of yours to cover you, using a harsh boot to kick the door closed. you squeak, covering your face with your hands, and you groan audibly as simon pants against your back.

"fuck--" you gasp. "oh...fuck, fuck, fuck!"

simon buries his face into the crook of your neck, laughing a little.

"bloody hell," he breathes. "reckon we're fucked, huh, love?"

"it's not funny, simon! we're in so much trouble!"

"well..." he squeezes your throat gently, tilting your head back. "could still finish. no sense in pretendin' now."

"you are not going to come when he's probably waiting for us outside."

"i'm balls deep in my favorite girl," simon mutters. "could come just fine. just say the word."

"you're disgusting."

"mmm..." simon squeezes your hips. "keep talkin'. i like when y'talk t'me like tha'."

"fucking asshole."

"yeah...yeah."

"you stupid, immature, unhinged pain in my ass--"

"fuck."

well.

you're definitely never leaving this room.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello, can I please request Charles jealous smut?

AN: Definitely went a bit of a different route than normal but I enjoyed writing this! Started it right before I went to the hospital and was able to finish it tonight! I hope you guys enjoy. I know its a bit shorter but I'm running on melatonin and oxi so bare with me haha

TW: multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, low-key asshole Charles (very beginning)

WC: 1.2K

Y/N POV

"Charles, what's wrong?" I ask for the third time since getting back into the car after leaving the end of year Ferrari dinner.

"God damn it, Y/N! Nothing I said nothing was fucking wrong," Charles snaps at me making me gasp slightly at the out burst.

"Charles Leclerc, do not ever speak to me like that again," I shout at him when we finally get back to the apartment.

I had chosen to keep quiet the rest of the way home, hoping it would help cool the both of us down but when we walked through the door and Charles instantly beelined for our bedroom mumbling to himself I finally snap.

"Then don't ever talk to Carlos Sainz again," Charles snap back while turning around to show he had fire in his eyes.

It finally had clicked for me. Charles was jealous which isn't something that happens often but when it does he tends to turn into the green monster.

"Charles, are you fucking kidding me! Carlos is leaving Ferrari, and I was telling him about how I've enjoyed his time with Ferrari," I shout back at him making Charles roll his eyes before stomping his way into the bedroom and slamming the door. The whole dramatics

A part of me just laughs softly at his childish antics but the other part of me is still raging with anger at the way he had spoken to me.

I make my way into the kitchen grabbing myself something to drink before grabbing the bottle of tequila and taking a shot of the bitter liquor.

When I feel myself cool down just enough I march into out bedroom to find Charles already under the covers ready for bed but instead of him laying in the middle of the bed like normal he's on the very edge as far away from my side as possible.

"I hope Leo pushes you off the bed," I scoff when Charles doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Maybe if you slept in Carlos's bed like you want I would have more room to cuddle with Leo," Charles replies back in a sheepish mumble showing me that he's getting close to crumbling and apologizing.

"It's actually why I came in here. Need to pack an overnight bag," I comment with a smirk on my face but before I can even make it into the closet Charles is up from his spot on the bed and storming towards me before pushing me against the wall.

"You think this is funny?" Charles seethes making me shrug my shoulders.

"I mean ya kind of Charles, we both know damn well I have never and will never be into Carlos, so ya you being jealous and threatened by him is hilarious," I reply back making Charles's eyes narrow slightly at me before I see his should relax slightly.

"I- 'm sorry," Charles mumbles clearly letting the embarrassment sink in.

"I don't know why it upset me so much tonight. I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry for getting jealous and even more sorry for how I spoke to you," Charles admits softly while pulling my face into his hand.

"I don't even care when you get jealous, if anything I find it hot as fuck, but I do care about the way you speak to me," I tell him softly feeling my anger slowly start to ease.

"I know and it was wrong, I really am sorry," Charles says again making me smile softly and nod my head.

"You're forgiven, but I demand 3 orgasms," I say with a smile and a nod.

"Deal," Charles says with a laugh before pulling me in and placing a soft kiss on my lips and pulling me by my waist towards our bed.

When Charles drops me down on the bed he quickly climbs up to join me pulling off his shirt at the same time.

When Charles joins me on the bed he wraps my legs around his hips before he leans down and pulls me in for a kiss while grinding his hard cock down into my dripping core.

"Charles please, I need you," I whine when I can feel my pleasure soaking through my flimsy panties.

Charles finally pulls back and quickly pulls my panties off before wasting no time attaching his mouth to my sensitive clit. He knew it wouldn't take long to throw me over the edge but when I feel him slipping his fingers into my soaked pussy I can't help the loud cry that falls from my lips.

"Fuck! Charlie," I cry when I feel his fingers grazing my G-spot while his lips are still sucking on my clit.

"Cum for me," Charles mumbles into my pussy making me cry out and cum all over his finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan in a chant as Charles continues to fuck me through my first orgasm.

"Too much," I cry when I realize Charles isn't letting me come down from my high but rather throwing me right into another orgasm.

"You want three no?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face before speeding his fingers up even more and attaching his mouth back to my overly sensitive clit.

"Charles," I cry out when I feel his start speeding all his actions up clearly with the intentions to bring me to another orgasm.

"Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself fall over the edge again not expecting the orgasm to hit me so fast.

"Fuck, good girl," Charles groans while fingering me harder and letting me squirt all over the bed and his face.

As soon as I started to come down from my high Charles is quickly pulling his boxer off before climbing back into bed and quickly rubbing the tip of his hard leaking cock through my soaked folds before finding my dripping hole and quickly pushing his whole cock deep into my pussy making me whimper the the stretch of his cock.

"Fuck!" Charles and I both groan put at the exact same time while he starts slowly thrusting his hips in and out of my soaked pussy.

It doesn't take long for me to fully adjust to Charles's size and once I do he quickly speeds up his trusts while making sure to hit all the good spots deep within my pussy.

"Fuck Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself crawling closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Fuck, feel so good," Charles cries out as his hips start to shutter a bit letting me know he was getting close to cumming as well.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cry out when I feel Charles bring his fingers down to my clit and teasing me until I fall over the edge pulling him with me.

"Fuck," Charles grunts out when I feel his hip shutter one final time before filling my pussy up with his hot cum.

As we are both trying to catch our breath I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down to rest his body on top of mine.

"Fuck, that was good," I breath out making Charles laugh softly.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you in the car and when we got home," Charles says while slowly slipping his softening cock out of me and laying on his back and pulling me into his chest.

"You're forgiven, I guess," I tease making Charles roll his eyes softly but still pull me in tighter to his chest.

"I love you and thinking about losing you makes me a bit insane," Charles admits making me smile softly. I definitely couldn't imagine my life without him either.

"I love you too," I reply back softly while curling into his side a bit closer.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Ain't That a Kick in the Head

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nudity but in a totally non-sexual way (you share a bath)

Summary: You watch Clayton take a puck to the face, suffice to say you are very much worried for your boyfriend at the end of the game.

Notes: Y'know someone needs to psychoanalyse why I thought it was so hot that he took a puck to the face, got 12 stitches, came out, played and still scored? Someone want to explain that one to me?

I've not written Clayton before but @wannabehockeygf has me hooked so...I hope this is okay?

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"...that one up high caught Keller, let's hope Clayton is okay...he took that one right up in the face and he's headed to the room for some stitches I would imagine..."

"Keller's girlfriend has stood straight up from her seat, clearly not happy with what she's seen."

"Can you blame her? Keller's just taken a puck straight to the face and I imagine he's going to have more than a couple of stitches to fix that..."

It's an instinctive reaction really, to jump out of your seat at the way the puck soars into Clayton's face, the way he spins and falls to the ice. The blood that you can see pooling underneath his hand as he holds it tight to his eye and brow.

You've seen him get hurt before, seen him take hits to the boards, hits from other players, pucks to the ribs, sticks to the legs, but this...fuck, this was dangerous, this was scary. You're thankful for your seat overlooking the tunnel, thankful that you can reach a hand down as he makes his way off the ice, that even as he clutches a towel to his face to mop up the blood and try to stem the bleeding, he sees you, and reaches out briefly to touch your fingers, an attempt to reassure you that he's okay. That he'll be fine because fuck he knows you're probably freaking out about it.

Then all you can do is sit back down in your seat and wait. Waiting for him to come back out made you feel sick, stomach tied in knots, leg bouncing up and down in anxious impatience. Was he concussed? Was he in need of hospital? Or would it just be a few stitches to stop the bleeding? Had it done any serious damage to his skull? Was he actually okay? Was it just a flesh wound or something deeper?

It was taking too long, far too long, your eyes not even on the game, but on the tunnel waiting for him to reappear, watching people come and go back and forth each one not Clayton. Still you waited for that reappearance.

And reappear he did. Brow coated in blood, 12 stitches holding his face together, swollen, bruising planning it's spots as he stops at your section, looking up at you from the tunnel as you look down.

Your hand reaches out again and this time he holds it properly, fingers intertwining with yours to give your palm a tight squeeze, his ring digging into your skin slightly from how firmly he grips you. Like he needs to reassure you he's still strong, still good even as a blood drip starts to slide from the fresh stitches towards his eye.

"I'm okay, sweet girl," His voice is rough from overuse on the ice and he doesn't linger long, but it's enough to reassure you that he's at least fine, even if his face looks like he's been through the wars.

It's enough for you in that moment, enough for you to let his hand go, to watch him make his way to the bench even as that sick feeling still permeates your gut.

You spend the entirety of the second period watching him like a hawk, assessing to see if he should actually be out on the ice or not, relieved to see him skating well, stable, sturdy. Despite the physical wound he doesn't seem unwell and that is enough to settle you down a little, enough for you to start to enjoy the third period.

An enjoyment that is made 10 times better by Clay's empty net goal firmly confirming Utah's victory over the Winnipeg Jets. The moment the period is over and the players have left the ice you don't waste much time before making your way down to the locker rooms, leaning against the wall and waiting for Clayton to clean up and change.

He's out last, Kess stops to tell you he's just getting some of his stitches redone, and while you appreciate the heads up from the taller man it actually only serves to make you more anxious to see your boyfriend.

When he walks out he looks like he's been through the wars or been mugged badly or had a bad boxing match. New stitches means no quick shower, no water on them for at least a day and he still looks bloody, sweaty and definitely not okay. You can't imagine how uncomfortable he was putting his suit back on when he couldn't even have a proper wash, sweat causing his clothes to stick to his skin. Clayton's always been a stickler for cleanliness and you know he probably feels disgusting, probably hates it almost as much as the injury itself.

"Shit, Clay..." You gasp at seeing his face up close, his eye is bruising into a proper shiner, closing a little from all the swelling that's happening. The skin around starting to go a deep purple. There's an array of angry stitches holding his skin together, 12 to be exact, lined up neatly but clearly the only thing stopping more blood from falling down his face. They've clearly tried to clean as much of the old blood up as possible, but there's still enough left over that he looks rough around the edges.

"Right in the money maker, huh? It's okay if you think I'm ugly now, baby.." He's joking around as he steps into your space, trying to take that god awful look off your face. You look like you've seen a ghost, like you might be sick.

"Clay..." You reach for him as he leans over you, one arm leaning against the wall by your head, while your own hands cup his cheeks tilting his head so you can get a better look at his stitches.

"Sorry, sorry, just tryin' to get my girl to smile s'all..."

"I know..." He lets you get your fill, moving his head in whatever direction you tilt it while his free hand grips your hip. He wants you to believe he's fine but he knows you won't believe him, and in truth it fucking hurts taking a puck to the face. He's surprised he doesn't have a concussion. He feels a little sick, very gross and his face aches like nothing else.

"Clay...What do you need?" You, he thinks, just this. Just the soft way your thumbs brush his cheeks and tenderness with which you cradle his face, like he's not 170lbs of hockey player. He's not delicate and he knows that, you know that, but sometimes you treat him that way and it's nice sometimes. Nice to feel cared for.

He doesn't say any of that though, instead lets out a big sigh, "I need to go home, wash at least my body because I actually feel fucking gross..." He's still sweaty and he knows he needs help washing his hair without getting water on his stitches.

"Okay, I'm driving." You're reaching for his keys in pocket as quick as a whip, but he's quicker. Clayton's hand wrapping entirely around your wrist and stopping it from delving further into his pocket.

"You're not driving my car, baby. No." There's no amount of injury that could bring him to let you drive when that's his job and the grin he gives you is the sort you give a child who thinks they know better. It makes your eyes narrow.

"Clay, you took a puck going like 80 miles per hour to the face..."

"And I can still drive, and you are still and forever my passenger princess." It's not that he doesn't trust you to drive. You're a pretty decent driver, but that's not the dynamic you have. He drives you around. Always. If he can't then you drive yourself, but if both of you are in a car together? He's driving and you get to sit, relax and look pretty.

"You're impossible." You roll your eyes but concede defeat, pulling your hand from his pocket even as he continues to grip your wrist like now that he's got it the thought of letting go is preposterous.

"Impossibly handsome." Clay's hand moves from your wrist to slip into your own, fingers twisting together as he pulls away from the wall with you. His other hand tossing his car keys about with a jingling sound.

"Impossible hard headed."

"Ouch, that hurts, sweet girl." He finally gets a smile from you at that and that's all he wants as the two of you walk hand in hand to his car. If he's got to deal with stitches, bruising, swelling, then at least he gets to see you smile.

"Did it hurt more than the puck you took to the face tonight?"

"You're determined to not let me forget this aren't you?" He asks as he opens the passenger side door, watching you slip into the pristine seats because he'd be damned if he ever let his car fall into disarray.

You're quiet for a few moments as he leans over you to pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it into place. It's the proximity of him to you that's probably the only reason he actually hears your next whispered words as you look at your hands in your lap.

"...I was really worried, Clay..."

Clayton sighs heavily, large hand cupping your cheek until you look at him. You grip his wrist, fingers playing with the array of bracelets he always has there.

"I know, baby, but I'm okay. I promise. Got some stitches, no concussion, I'll be a little ugly for a bit but..." All Clay ever wants is for you to be happy, the worst part about getting hurt is that he knows you're stressing about. He's fine, but he knows he looks like he's gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson and he'll probably look like that for awhile. He also knows you worry, and you'll worry over him until he looks completely back to normal.

"You could never be ugly," He smiles at the way you frown at him, like it's the worst thing he could do right now to insult himself, "You're just fishing for compliments." Your eyes soften under his smile and the frown loses some of its bite.

"You're the one biting, sweet girl."

"Shut up and drive us home."

"As you wish." Clayton presses a quick kiss to your lips, pulling out of the passenger side and closing the door on you. He's quick to make his way round to the driver's side and even quicker to get the car started so he can start driving back to the house.

You watch him the whole time, eyes fliting from the stitches in his eyebrow to the way his left eye is swelling to the point you don't know if he'll be able to see out of it in a minute if you don't get ice on it. Clayton chooses to ignore the staring, hand reaching out to rest on your thigh, rubbing warm strokes across it as he drives, like always.

When you pull up you wait, like always, in your seat because Clay complains if he can't open the door for you and unbuckle your seatbelt. So you wait and let him do it, just as you let him wrap an arm around your shoulders and led you inside as if you're the one that needs the TLC and not him.

You only briefly watch him struggle out of the suit he'd worn to the game before stepping in to help. The medical team not letting him wash had meant his shirt and trousers stuck to him from all the sweat left on his skin, and the extra pair of hands was helpful as he shrugged off the button up he'd been wearing.

He lets you lead him into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat and watching as you fuss around the bath tub. You're running him a bath even though you know he prefers showers because there's no way those stitches are staying dry in the shower, not with his ridiculous need for the most intense waterfall shower on earth.

Still, Clayton watches as you try to make the bath more enticing. Copious amounts of bubble bath, the sort that's designed for sore muscles, being thrown in, water running warm, but not too hot because he doesn't like his bath water to be as hot as the fires of hell. Unlike you. But, he draws the line at you helping him into water, it's his face that hurts not his legs, shrugging your hands away with an eyeroll when you go to reach to help him.

"I can get in on my own, baby."

He doesn't let the fussing annoying him because he knows you fuss out of concern and that any amount of fussing is still your attention on him. Fussing means you love him and if you took a puck to the face he knows he'd be fussing over you too.

You watch as Clayton eases himself into the water, a sigh rippling out from him as he slides into the warmth. His chains hitting the water because he'd never wear anything that wasn't solid enough not to tarnish over time, expensive taste as always. You watch the way he closes his eyes and just relaxes for a minute, skin turning slightly flush under the warmth of the water, neck pulled taut as his head tips back.

"You want me to help wash your hair?"

"Please, baby." It's sighed out, eyes still closed and you kneel next to the tub without a second thought, urging him to move forward and lean back until his hair touches the water.

You're careful about it, slowly wetting his hair, trying to avoid getting water on his stitches and while he might not want to be fussed over, this though? This Clayton can't help but love. The way your fingers thread through his brunet strands, how you stop occasionally to scratch at his scalp, the feeling of sweat and grime falling away? This is pretty much heaven.

You huff a laugh when Clayton groans a little while you massage shampoo into his roots. The pressure you apply making him sigh and groan like you're relieving knots in his back and it's sweet, how he can relax into this, into you, when he's normally the one giving and doesn't necessarily prefer to receive the care.

"You good, Clay?"

"Mmmm...." He hums and you smile down at him, the way he leans back into your hands, how his eyes remain closed, the content little smile on his face that just slightly shows his teeth.

You take extra care as you rinse the shampoo from his hair thoroughly, avoiding his stitches and his eyes as you do so, before getting him to sit up a little so you can place some conditioner on the ends.

"Get in with me..." His eyes are heavy lidded, like he doesn't quite have the energy to open them the entire way, a wet hand reaching out to grip your fingers, tugging lightly.

"Clay, there's barely any room left." His legs take up half the tub, you're a little concerned that you plus water displacement will result in water all over the floor of the bathroom. Another injury waiting to happen when one of you inevitably slips on wet tile.

"Please, just want to hold you for a bit, no funny business, sweet girl, promise." His cheeky little smirk that shows the dimples on one side of his mouth doesn't exactly fill you with confidence in his words, but the water is still warm and there's something always enticing about Clay, he has a way of convincing you to do something even if you shouldn't.

"Mmm, sounds likely..."

"Seriously, just want to hold you...I'm an injured man..." He pulls the guilt trip card, biting on his bottom lip. Something which would have looked sexier if half his face wasn't swollen up like a balloon. Still, you've never been good at saying no to Clayton even if you probably should from time to time.

"Fine..." You sigh, pretending to be reluctant even as you strip your clothes off, ignoring the way his eyes light up like a kid in a candy store, and step into the bath water with him.

It's a little tight, the water rising to levels that are mildly concerning before the overflow drain does the job of removing the excess water. Your legs twine with Clayton's and his arms slide around your waist until he can pull you comfortably back to lay against him, your back to his chest. It's funny, how you can be completely naked and feel completely comfortable like this with someone, every little touch is comforting rather than sexual, every kiss to your shoulder an attempt to be connect to you rather than start something intimate.

"Clay?" You wince out, the sensation of metal digging into your back causing you to squirm slightly in his lap, water sloshing nearer to the sides of the tub.

"Mmm...?"

"Can...can you move your chains? They're digging into my shoulder."

"Shit, sorry, baby." He's quick to do so, the chains being thrown over his shoulder and out of the way until settling against him is more comfortable, the rise and fall of his chest meeting your back in a rhythm that helps any residual anxiety from the events of the day melt away.

"You comfy, sweet girl?" He presses a kiss to your temple and you smile into it, humming as you lean as much of your weight back into him as you can.

"Yeah, you?"

"Mmm, might have to stay here..." He's tracing circles on you tummy, a series of circles that meet in a variety of patterns that remind you of crop circles from all those conspiracy theory and unsolved mystery shows Clay likes to watch when he can't sleep. Every few seconds a kiss lands somewhere else, whether your temple, your cheek, your neck or your shoulder. Each is quick and soft, but no less delightful. It's all so soft, the world feels like its humming a little.

"The water'll get cold."

"Good thing I run warm..." He tries to argue with you, like always, a sassy little remark to entice you to stay in the moment even if neither of you can.

"Clay, we're not staying in here all night, we'll die of pneumonia or something."

"Would be worth it." He grins into your shoulder, eyes relaxing when you reach a hand back to scratch his scalp and play with his hair. He's tired, so fucking tired and his face still aches like a bitch but this is nice, this so nice.

"We should really get some ice on your face, try and take some of the swelling down."

"Do we have to?" The idea of putting ice on his face right now is anything but appealing, but he knows you're right. His face is already pretty swollen and bruised and it's only going to get worse if he doesn't look after it.

"Do you want to be able to see from your left eye in the morning?"

"Good point, just...5 more minutes, baby?"

"5 more minutes." You let him have his 5 more minutes and then some, using the time to get clean yourself and rinse conditioner from his hair before the two of you stand from the bath after the water has cooled significantly.

He's sat crossed legged on the bed in a cosy hoodie and boxers by the time you've put together a makeshift icepack, ice piled up into a ratty old tea towel you got when you first moved out.

The look he gives the icepack is nothing short of disdainful, a glare that's combined with a pout of his top lip like the icepack has personally offended him already when it hasn't even touched him. If anyone should glare it's you because your hands are getting cold.

"The only way that is touching my face is if you're sat in my lap, sweet girl." He pats his thighs like its a given, like you'll just go over and plonk yourself down without question.

"You already agreed to ice your face, Clayton John Keller." Your hands find your hips, a stance Clayton calls your mom stance and it's extra apt when you're using his full name like that. Not that that deters him from his goal of having you wrapped up on his lap because that's the only thing that might make ice to the face semi-bearable.

"Only if you sit in my lap."

"That is not the original agreement."

"Yeah, well, trade talks, deals get renegotiated all the time." He shrugs with a smirk, pulling out the dimples because he knows you struggle to be stubborn when he does that and as much as you hate it...he's fucking charming and it works. You're sighing and stomping over like you're not totally endeared by him, letting him pull you up and onto his lap without any real protest until your legs are wrapped around his waist, your butt sat perfectly in the hollow created by him sitting crisscrossed.

"You are incredibly difficult to care for, Mr Keller." You grumble as you cup his face with one hand and raise the makeshift icepack to his eye with the other.

"Can you really deny an injured man small comforts like his girlfriend in his lap?" His smirk only widens until it doesn't, a hiss leaving his lips at the way it pulls on his stitches as his eyebrow moves.

"Mmm, you're ridiculous." You're smiling when you say it and that alone lets Clayton know that you're enjoying this as much as him.

He hisses again when the cold finally touches his skin, almost jerking back but your hand on his cheek stops him from going very far. The icepack is cold, so fucking cold, and he knows you're going to force it to stay there until you're satisfied that some of the swelling has gone down. You're cruel like that.

Clayton's hands fall to your hips, fingers clenching and gripping onto you, not painfully, but firmly enough that you know he hates this, hates the sensation of ice on his skin even if there's a tea towel in between.

You try to make it as bearable as possible, pressing kisses to the right side of his face even as the left faces the terrible ordeal of icing. The kisses have Clayton humming, hands stroking from your hips to your waist and back down again in a rhythmic motion that brings back memories of every make out session you've ever had with the man, and that you wouldn't be having until you were certain his face wasn't swollen and bruised.

When you finally pull the icepack away his face is less swollen, eye still partially closed, but no less bruised, you know the purple is going to eventually fade to a horrible yellow. You throw the damp tea towel into the laundry basket from where you're sat, excellent aim that has you letting out a little cheer that gets Clayton smiling up at you.

"Thank you, sweet girl, always taking care of me..." He presses a kiss to your lips, short and sweet, only because you refuse to let him stay there too long, determined to let the man rest.

"Yeah, well, you're always taking care of me too."

[rhiannonsknife]

okay, but... jackie taylor with reader! princess treatment? reader just loves sitting on her lap while wearing a cute short skirt and pretty ass, having jackie's arms around her, giving her a kiss with lip gloss when she wins a game, looking at her with big eyes and a cute pout ... just princess treatment?

i really love your work!

god….jackie taylor princess treatment, save me!! save me jackie taylor princess treatment!!

jackie taylor lives to spoil you.

she’s got an arm slung around your waist at all times, fingers resting just beneath the hem of your shirt to have a feel of your skin. she never lets you walk on the outside of the sidewalk, she opens doors for you without a second thought, and if you so much as shiver, she's already draping her varsity jacket over your shoulders, murmuring, “can't have my girl getting cold, can i?”

it’s fair to say that she is obsessed with you. and jackie doesn't even try to hide it.

it’s obvious to everyone around in the way she pulls you into her lap the second you're close enough, her arms wrapping around your waist like she owns you. she doesn't care where you are (on the bleachers after practice, at a party, even in the middle of the cafeteria if there's space) you're sitting on her, not next to her.

“you're so clingy,” you tease one afternoon, even as you settle comfortably against her, your skirt riding up just a little when you shift in her lap.

jackie’s hands squeeze your hips. “and?”

“nothing,” you say. “i like it!”

if she's not actively pulling you into her lap, she's tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, playing with your fingers, kissing your temple just because she can. jackie even carries your bag after school, waits for you after class, and lets you steal her clothes even though she knows you only wear them so people will see.

and after a big game? there is no stopping her: even sweaty, breathless, and radiating victory, all jackie wants is you.

the second she sees you waiting for her near the sidelines, she beams, racing right over, gripping your waist, pulling you in.

jackie barely has time to catch her breath before you cup her face, press a sticky-sweet, glossy kiss to her lips, and pull back just enough to admire your work. a perfect pink layer left behind, her lips glittering with it.

"you taste like strawberries," she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

you flush, curling further into her as the other yellowjackets begin to catch up. jackie just grins, keeping you right where you belong: wrapped up in her arms, pressed against her like she never wants to let go. (which, truthfully, she doesn’t…)

— nsfw below the cut. mdni.

okay but now i‘m thinking…jackie finger fucking you in her lap…? because, if you think about it, that also counts as princess treatment, right…?

maybe you’ve convinced her to let you do her make up or something:

at first, you’re confused as to why she would agree to this at all: jackie is definitely better at doing makeup than you, and hates when somebody messes with her face like that.

it only really dawns upon you when you’re already sitting on her lap: here you are, in the shortest little skirt, looking all cute and focused, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you reach for a brush.

no wonder jackie actually wanted this.

no wonder she’s got no sense of self control now.

her hands drift to your thighs, fingertips teasing along the hem of your skirt. just barely at first, featherlight touches that make you squirm but don't fully distract you as you reach for a brush.

but she doesn't stop there. she squeezes your thighs, her fingers pressing into soft flesh as she watches you try to ignore her.

“jackie,” you warn, not yet looking down.

jackie hums, all innocent. “hmm?”

“you’re distracting me,” you murmur, dipping the brush into the powder, trying to refocus. but, god, it’s hard when she trails her fingers up until she’s squeezing your ass.

“am i?”

you turn her chin slightly to apply the blush. “yes”

jackie, completely unbothered, presses a lingering kiss to your wrist, then the inside of it, then your palm. before you can react, she’s already leaning up, catching your lips in a kiss as well.

you sigh against her mouth, your hands sliding into her hair as the brush clatters to the floor.

as easy as that, and all your resolve is gone, replaced by arousal when jackie reaches between your legs. when she catches your eyes, tilts her head, and waits for the breathless nod before pushing your panties to the side, moaning as if she could feel actual pleasure from the way her fingers slide through your wetness.

it’s not long after that, that you find yourself propped up above jackie, most of your weight resting on your knees, one hand on the headboard, as she pounds her fingers into you. you don’t even have to do anything at all, she’s doing the work for you, wetness gushing down her arm.

“just like that,” jackie praises as the hem of your skirt bounces with each thrust. her free hand lingers on your lower back, supporting you in your current position and her face is covered in your lipgloss, chin and jaw glistening with it over a thin layer of sweat.

“come on,” she encourages, leaning back on her elbows to get a better look at you, her fingers stilling inside of your throbbing cunt.

it is up to you to take pleasure from her now.

later, you will be embarrassed by how fast you switch to riding her fingers…

[auraisereigh]

"For Her, Always"

oneshot

Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.

Xaden.

He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.

"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.

Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.

Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.

That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.

And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.

After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.

I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."

I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.

“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.

But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.

"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.

I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.

♤

I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.

The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?

"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.

I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.

Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.

I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.

Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.

He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?

He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.

I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.

I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.

"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.

"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.

“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”

Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.

“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”

There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”

I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?

“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”

“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”

I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.

I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.

Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”

His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”

He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”

I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”

♤

[ateezscupid]

can you write smth with sub mingi and a curvy reader, and like he picks her up and she tenses and gets all awkward and insecure and he basically just reassures her?💕

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST mingi w/ body worship ♡

"I'm home-!" Mingi yelled, dropping his bag by the door. You came scurrying around the corner, holding your arms out with a cheeky smile.

"Min!" you squeal, throwing your arms around his neck. He laughs, returning the embrace before setting you down gently. "I missed youuu!"

"Aw, really? How much?" he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and giving a playful squeeze. You pretend to think hard, your eyes squinting as if the answer is just out of reach.

"Well, let's see… a lot!" You giggle, feeling the warmth of his smile against your cheek.You pull away and tilt your head, pulling at his hoodie. "But you smell like garage."

"You love it." he chuckled, out of nowhere deciding to lift you up. You yelped, a bit -- surprised. He's never tried to lift you before, and the thought of him doing so always lingered in your mind but you never actually asked him to. You kind of assumed he wouldn't be able to because of your weight. But here you are, off the floor, your legs dangling as he swings you around in a circle.

"What-?" he noticed the hesitant look on your face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No! It's just.." You gulp, trying to find the right words without sounding too overwhelmed. "It's just that… I didn't think you could lift me." A blush creeps up your cheeks as you admit your doubt.

Mingi's smile widens, a glint of pride in his eyes. "You're not that heavy," he says, spinning you around one more time before carefully setting you down.

"You don't have to lie. I know I'm heavy, I just -- you never tried to do it before and I didn't know what to do!"

"Well I thought you just didn't like being picked up," Mingi said, his eyes searching yours for a hint of truth. You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"Maybe I just didn't know how to ask," you confessed, playing with the strings of his hoodie. "But I've always wanted you to."

"And now I did and you're happy so I'm definitely going to do it again." He said, grinning. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tickled your sides, making you squirm and giggle.

"You're adorable," Mingi says, his grin never faltering as he watches you try to regain your composure. He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the living room, his grip firm but gentle. You follow willingly, feeling lighter than you have in a while. The TV is on in the background, playing a show you both enjoy, but he quickly mutes it with the remote.

"I mean, I don't get why you're insecure. You're really fucking hot," Mingi says, his voice sincere as he sits you down on the couch. He plops down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh.

You roll your eyes, but the blush doesn't leave your cheeks. "Thanks, but you know it's not just about that," you murmur, looking down at your lap.

"I know but have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous," Mingi insists, gently lifting your chin with his finger so that your eyes meet his. His thumb brushes away a stray hair that's fallen across your forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender. "I mean, not to sound like a pervert, but I've had to stop myself from staring at you sometimes."

"Really-?" You whisper, your voice quivering slightly with disbelief. "So, what do you do when we have sex? Close your eyes?"

"Obviously not. But you see how I like you sitting on my face," Mingi teases, his voice dropping to a murmur. You slap his chest playfully, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pleasure at his words. The tension in the room shifts, the air thickening with something unspoken.

"What! Your thighs are so fucking soft. Imagine having them around your head," he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. You laugh nervously, trying to break the tension that's starting to build between you.

"You're a freak." You giggle, trying to push him away, but his hand remains firm on your thigh. "But a charming one."

"And you loveeee it. I'd do whatever you ask. If you want me to pick you up, carry you, whatever the case may be - just ask. Please. I'd do it in a heartbeat." He leans closer, his warm breath brushing against your cheek. You can feel your heart racing, and your palms start to sweat.

"I'm-- okay, I just changed my underwear. Give me a break," you retort, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays your excitement. Mingi laughs, his eyes never leaving yours, his hand still resting on your thigh.

"You're gonna have to change them again!" he jumps up, pulling you up and lifting you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. You shriek with laughter as he starts to walk down the hallway, your body bouncing slightly with each step he takes.

[moodymisty]

I would love to give the primarchs a massage, just the idea of these massive men who are constantly at war turning into puddles under the hands of their lover. And maybe offering to return the favor 😏

Author's note: I feel like sanguinius' wings would ache after long battles <3 Relationships: Sanguinius/Gn!Reader Warnings: None really

"Sigh..."

At first, Sanguinius would reject attention such as this; Insist he didn't need it, and that the gesture was wasted. He didn't want to seem weak or didn't want to be the center of your affection, you couldn't quite tell. Or perhaps it was both. Now so much deeper into your relationship he's much more allowing of such attention, stomach curling as he hunches in relaxation.

Now he allows it, because he knows you enjoy it just as much as he does.

His wings twitch happily as you press against the sore muscles at their base, flying and holding them tense for so long has cause them to become tight and strained. Your gentle hands do wonders in loosening them, along with the warm water of the bath. He's the closest he's yet gotten to euphoria- just peace and happiness. Even if for only a little while.

"They're always so sore..."

You mumble to yourself, feeling the sections where his armor dug into the skin. Sanguinius has plates that wrap around the base of his wings to keep them safe; One cut of a tendon could render him flightless for a period of time.

"I use them quite a bit, love."

He feels you smack his shoulder, the water adding a wet plap to his skin. Your hands slide along his wet skin, droplets sliding downward. His feathers repel most of the water, but he still holds them somewhat out of the water to keep from having to preen them all over again.

"You know what I mean."

Sanguinius chuckles at you, feeling your lips press against the dip between his shoulderblades.

"I do, but it is quite fun to tease you. Perhaps I would stop if you didn't always have such a reaction."

He still can't see your face, but he can hear your disgruntled sigh and chuckles again. He's smiling as well; A real one, one that actually reaches his eyes and makes their lovely color brighter and warmer.

Pushing against his shoulders harder trying to soothe his deeper muscles you feel his body relax more, leaning forward a bit more harshly as he looses tension. His wings twitch a bit more, before he stretches them and feels how much less sore and aching he is already.

"I'm well enough, come back where I can see you."

You shake your head despite him being unable to see it, though he can probably hear the shifting of your body in the water.

"I'll be done in a bit," You say, feeling the brush of his feathers against your arm as you push towards the base of his wing. He lets it droop a bit, the tips of some feathers dipping into the warm water.

"I should do your hair after this..." You mumble to yourself, an action which has Sanguinius turning around to snatch you off the step you're on, pulling you to sit on his lip.

"I wasn't done!"

You quickly complain, grumbling discontent as Sanguinius leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck. He hums happily, and you can feel him relax as he breathes in your scent and feels the thrum of your heart in your artery.

"Shush, you. I can wash my hair later. Let me just enjoy you for awhile."

[wondergirlsthings]

Lando Norris Tries to Guess Female Products...He's So Confused

Lando Norris x Reader

You set up your phone on the kitchen counter, grinning at Lando Norris as he stands next to you. Today’s challenge is all about female products, and you’re determined to see his reaction.

"Alright, Lando," you say with a playful smirk, "let's see how well you know your stuff. I'm going to show you some female products, and you have to guess what they are used for."

Lando raises an eyebrow, looking both intrigued and a little nervous. "Okay, I'm game. But I warn you, I'm not exactly an expert in... this area."

You hold up a box of tampons. "First up: what do you think this is for?"

Lando stares at the box for a moment, his eyes darting around as if trying to decode it. "Uh, is that... for—um—periods?" he ventures slowly.

You burst out laughing. "Yes, exactly! That one was easy. Now, how about this?" You pick up a bottle of essential oils.

He squints at it. "Hmm... is it for... relaxation? Aromatherapy?"

"Right again," you reply, impressed. "You're doing well."

Encouraged, you move on to the next item: a fancy, multicolored compact mirror. Lando holds it up, puzzled. "Okay, now tell me—what's this one? Is it for... makeup?"

You shake your head, giggling. "Close, but no. It's actually a compact mirror. You know, for checking your look on the go."

Lando laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess that makes sense. I mean, I always check my reflection, but usually in a phone camera."

The final challenge is a small, discreet pouch. You hand it to him. "And this?"

Lando examines it carefully. "Hmm... a purse? Like, a small bag for essentials?"

You smile widely. "Bingo! You've got it."

Just as he starts to relax, you throw in one more twist. "Alright, one bonus challenge: this is a women's hygiene product, but it's not for makeup, and it's not for periods. What is it used for?"

Lando's face contorts in confusion as he furrows his brow. "Uh... is that for, like, cleaning or... I don't know, managing...?" He trails off, clearly out of his element.

You laugh as you gently explain, "It's actually a menstrual cup. It's used as a reusable alternative to tampons and pads."

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. "Man, I really am clueless when it comes to this stuff. I feel like I just got schooled!"

You step closer and give him a light nudge. "Don't worry, Lando. You're doing great. Maybe next time, I'll quiz you on something more your speed, like racing trivia!"

Lando grins, still a bit embarrassed but clearly entertained. "Yeah, maybe I'll stick to that. But hey, thanks for the lesson—I guess every day is a school day."

[TikTok ends – comments start rolling in]

Top Comment: "Lando's face when he saw the menstrual cup is priceless 😂"

Second Comment: "I learned more about female products in one minute than in a whole semester! 😂"

Third Comment: "Lando, you're a good sport! Keep it up!"

[lukazade]

Your honour.... your honour please it's raining... it's raining.. let them have a little romance...... come on your honour please.....

Snippet of the fic you're never going to see (but that this art is based on) below!

It's just a fluff piece, timkon, nothing exciting happens, you lack the context. They're just making up after an argument. Oh also it's a bit cringe. But if you've read any of my writing (it's not often, but it's on the page here and there) you'll know I'm very cringe.. 😔

After he's showered, Tim comes to sit with him on the bed, the air of the van still a bit too quiet. Things got too heated, even the unrelenting downpour couldn't douse them. Tim's hand sets upon Kon's, tentative, and Kon doesn't push him aside. After all, on the way back, they both realised it was a pretty stupid argument. But then again, weren't they always. "Sorry I rushed you." Tim's voice is a sigh, barely audible over the rain against the window. "I'll make it up to you, I'm the reason things went wrong today." Of course he's blaming himself, Kon thinks; that's their favourite couple's activity. He gives Tim a strained smile, fighting the urge to begin another circle of no, it was my fault more, and get them into another argument. They're both too stubborn - it'd help more to do something productive now that they both feel more inclined to listen and apologise. So instead of that, he takes the towel from Tim's shoulders, lifting it to his still-soaked hair, gently rubbing the water from it. He could use TTK, to dry them both immediately, but Tim likes this sort of thing. He acts like he could live without it, but Kon really doesn't think he could. And, just as expected, Tim's shoulders steadily deflate. Kon feels his own do the same, relieved. "I wasn't mad, Tim. I just get overwhelmed sometimes- you know that- and I don't think things through very well once I'm in that zone. I just mean, well, I don't mean to-" "I can't believe you're stealing my lines." Tim cuts him off, with a small, sorry face. "You don't need to overexplain. I really am sorry." "Me, too." He nods. "And I think I was just mad because it's rained for a week straight, actually. No sun makes me cranky." He offers a cheeky grin. "You're annoying, but not that bad." Tim rolls his eyes, and leans just a touch forward. "You're an idiot." Kon doesn't really want to take the bait, but how can he avoid it if Tim adores cliché? "I'm your idiot." Tim brushes a hand up his arm, the room feeling warm and cosy again. "And if it wasn't the sun's fault that you got upset, I-" "Tim." "What?" He snorts. He can never just accept Kon's easy outs, can he? "Fine, fine. I'm--" He stops himself before he says he's sorry again, flushing. Kon tries not to laugh.

[trustmypoison]

Ateez finding out that you're pregnant

Requested? Yes!

Request: Hi! <3 I loved your ATEEZ reaction with a low maintenance partner! I was wondering if I could make a request? Either: How each member prefers to sleep with you at night/whether they like to be held or do the holding/etc. I did see the sleeping positions one but I figured this one was different enough. If not that's totally fine!! Otherwise, maybe a pregnancy one, I saw the ones planned for svt and I'd love to see ateez. tysm!! <3’

TW/CW: pregnancy and baby talk. Skip if you aren’t into that. 

Hongjoong

The picture of totally put together. There will be only a split second of shock before he’s holding you tight and telling you how happy he is about the news. If you were nervous about the news (which I think most people are at least a little), he’s putting your mind at ease immediately. No, it’s not too soon. No, he’s not worried about the group or the company. Yes, he can’t wait to start a family. 

Seonghwa

Stunned silence. You actually think you might have broken him. Once he starts talking, it’s one half-finished question only to be interrupted by another half-finished question, but you get the picture so you explain that you realized you were late and took a test. If the shock goes on so long that you feel like this whole thing is going down the drain, he’ll snap out of it to assure you he’s thrilled, he might just need some time to wrap his head around it. 

Yunho

He had a sneaking suspicion when you got a ‘stomach bug’. He doesn’t say anything right away and you’d be too busy being sick to care. So he simply takes you to the doctor. He’s totally silent when you stammer that you don’t need to take a test and the doctor assures you it’s just to eliminate potential causes. When the doctor announces your results, he’s already braced for the shock and handles it far more gracefully than you do. Please, he’d be such a steady partner, change my mind. 

Yeosang

When you tell him, he just smiles and nods. You ask if he has anything to say and he smiles and says no. This sort of questioning goes on until you really aren’t convinced he even heard you. You don’t feel good and this is a tough topic if only because it’s a surprise, and the whole thing makes you impatient. “Are you even listening? I said I’m pregnant!” The frustration will double when he just smiles and says, “I know. At least I suspected.” He pulls you in for a hug as you rage, “Then why didn’t you tell me??? I didn’t know!!!” Irritatingly calm in the face of such news. 

San

The gentlest of guys and you can’t convince me otherwise. After like the third bout of illness in one morning, he puts you back to bed and very carefully brings up the possibility. He hates the panic that flashes across your face at the mere mention of it and he decides now is a great time to tell you that he’d love it if you were expecting. It puts your mind at ease and the conversation is a slow buildup to you finally asking him to get the tests. Super sweet and supportive even before the tests are purchased. 

Mingi

Panic. I could leave it at that but I guess I won’t. He does not know what to do with this information and might not handle it gracefully. He hates that he can see how nervous and upset you are but I envision he’d need to step away. Imagine him going to an older member in crisis mode. Also, imagine Hongjoong blowing up because he just left you like that without any comfort. After some careful coaching, his older members will demand he go and make things right. When he calms down and thinks of the future, he likes it, but a big change like that is scary. 

Wooyoung

He just shows up with a couple of tests and demands that you take it. It’s so perplexing that you’re kind of waiting for the punchline (because he always has one). But he really doesn’t have one now and he’s very serious. Now, that doesn’t mean he’s not a smart ass!! He’ll say something like, “You’ve been biting my head off for weeks, you keep gagging at the food I make, and you missed your period last month. Take it so I know how offended to be.” He’s joking on that last bit because of how pale you get at the implication. He’s thrilled about the news, but he’s equally thrilled to know that you don’t just hate him!! 

Jongho 

Overjoyed. Like there’s not even a moment of shock. The way he holds you close and tells you how happy he is in an instant really smashes any doubts you might have had. Totally doting immediately. I’m serious, do not move, do not pick anything up, do not try to do anything for yourself. I think normally he would not baby his partner quite so much, but he’d do a complete 180 with this news. Prepare to be coddled for at least 9 months, or maybe forever, idk. 

[theyluvpeach]

black out.

chris takes care of you after you get a little too drunk at his frat ⋆ ★ dealer!reader x client!chris blurb!! pt 2 to your vibes are off :)

Since Chris was actually able to sleep last night, he's able to enjoy this party. He's not a huge fan of parties at his frat back to back, but when it's when of his favorite themes? Hell yeah.

Black Out is the simplest and funniest party theme ever, and since his entire wardrobe is already all black, he never has to go out and buy anything. The biggest thing he did to prepare for this party was trade his usual black shirt for a black tank top.

He was having a good time. Winning a few games of beer pong, losing a few of them, dancing with girls.

Then he saw you. He hates you immensely, really. Your mini black dress and star printed tights brought you so much attention that you might as well have dropped a metal water bottle in a dead silent classroom.

You make him wanna claw his heart out of his chest and blend it up. You, you're different from all the other girls. You give him a feeling that's unrecognizable while a heated kiss or even having sex with a girl does nothing for him. That's annoying as fuck.

He chugs down his beer as he watches you flirt with Aiden, one of his frat brothers. Whatever.

He's starting to think that he's the only one here who has common sense. You're actively stumbling and holding onto the wall to help you walk, and no one's helping you. He knows frat bro's are assholes, but what the hell?

He was going to send Matt to help you since you're friends, or Aiden even. All he is to you is a client, but again. Whatever. He can't find either of them. He hasn't been watching you or anything, but you are insanely hard to miss. He wonders how he failed to see you get this drunk.

He stares at you as you try to stumble to get to your destination. How is he supposed— "Matt?" You slur, turning your head towards him. "I've been looking for you all night." You throw yourself into his arms, he catches you. God, you're wasted. "Chris." He corrects you, staring down at your glittery covered eyelids. "You....you look a lot like Matt... right now." You tilt your head at him, "Triplets, remember?"

The gasp you do is adorable enough to make a smile end up on his face. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," You drag out. "I forgot." He changes the topic. "You're wasted."

"Yeah."

He rolls his eyes. "You come here with anyone?"

"Mh....." He watches as your eyes unfocus. "I.... don't think so." You're unbelievable. "You don't think so, Kid—?"

"Remember...walking here.....I think." You stutter out. He can't believe you're real. "From where?"

"My apartment." You say, giving him an intoxicated smile. "You don't look too happy with me."

"The closest apartments to campus are a ten minute walk. We started this thing at seven o'clock, are you fuckin' stupid? Why would you walk here—" He watches your eyebrows furrow before you drunkly attempt to push him away. He holds onto you harder. "M not stupid." You mumble, "My truck doesn't work."

"You still shouldn't have—"

"N my roommate doesn't like parties, and her boyfriend drives her around every where—" You interrupt, "It's not safe to walk around at night—"

"N, I don't think she really likes me anymore cause' I think she found out that I sell drugs—"

"Kid—"

"M not stupid." He huffs, "Yeah, but it's not—"

"I didn't have a—" He slams his hand over your mouth. "You're not stupid, okay? You're really smart, and you know what really smart girls do? They give me her phone so I can call their roommate and tell them you're staying here tonight." He watches you blink at him. Once, then twice. "Staying.....here?"

"I just got my car cleaned, I'm not giving you the chance to throw up in it."

"Oh...... My phone's dead."

"You remember her number, right?" He removes his left arm, that's wrapped around you to reach into his back pocket for his phone. "She changed her number cause' she was getting too many spam calls n I can't remember it."

What the fuck.

Chris leaves the whole calling your roommate problem for later. Right now, he's focused on you and carrying you to his room. After he's done, he's gonna pray that Matt isn't in the middle of a heated make-out session and can hopefully help him with you.

"You better not throw up." He says, finally opening the door to his room that ends your treacherous journey. "M not, I promise." You mumble, "Off—" You say, starting to slip off the straps of your dress.

He doesn't really understand what you're talking about until he turns around from closing his door, "Woahwoahwoah— Kid—" Luckily, he only sees you start to pull it down. He quickly covers his eyes. "You can't just strip!"

"But I'm uncomfortable!" He hears you whine, "I'll get you something to sleep in, alright?— Just pull your dress back up!" He quickly picks out a hoodie from his closet, when he turns around and finds you face planting on his bed is when he notices the zipper on your dress.

"Kid."

"Mhnfp..?" You let out a noise that gets muffled by his bed sheets. "There's a zipper."

"Oh." He watches you sit up and grab at the back of your dress, attempting to pull at the zipper. "Can't." You whine. "Chris..?"

He swallows and drops the hoodie he picked out for you on his bed. He shifts closer to your spot on the bed, moves your hair out of the way, then unzips your dress. Giving him the perfect view of the mini angel wings you have tattooed on your back.

His heart physically hurts. "Thanks." You mutter, not caring that your dress just fell off your body in front of him, thank God he's facing your back side.

"Hoodie." He reminds you, you slip it on, and turn around towards him. "Gonna go get Matt n were gonna get you water and—" His words die in his throat as you pull off your star tights. "Ah."

"Itchy." Is all you give as an explanation before you're crawling up to where his pillows are and hide yourself under the covers. He's so happy his hoodie covers your ass.

"You're not gonna throw up in my bed, right?" You shake your head into his pillows, "Kid, I swear—"

"I promise!— I'm not gonna throw up in your bed." He watches you curl yourself into a ball, "Night, Chris." You say sleepily, falling asleep immediately.

He observes you for a moment, taking in how cute you look in his hoodie. "Night, Kid."

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns

[dreamyintersexouppy]

idk what fantasy you're living in that you think speaking to me this way is ok, but it really seems like you're assuming i'm... not an intersex transfem, or at least i don't count cuz i'm one of the Bad Ones. stop talking to me like im ignorant cuz im not. i lived this, my life has been real and my thoughts and personhood is real. if you think im diminishing your trauma just because i said you're not tma you aren't listening. if you think im being reductive when i talk about agab affecting position in transfeminism you have understood too few transfeminist concepts. it's not about "being raised as a boy", cuz i sure wasn't, i was raised as a faggot, and i never got to be a girl. the difference is me being a girl is not aligning with my agab, i have no "im afab" to fall back on to explain why im on e or getting bottom surgery. i don't doubt that you face transmisogyny but you are not who it is for. you literally admit yourself that the small moments where you do get your assignment remembered the transmisogynistic abuse lessens. i never have those moments, i never have escape.

i understand this is a lot of pain to experience intersexism and get hit by elements of transmisogy at the same time, probably because that's what my life consists of. your argument boils down to the same awful argument that people use to discredit tme/tma language and honestly, thank you. thank you for demonstrating exactly the kind of interaction that the concept of an afab transfem is meant to foster. you claim i am speaking Over you, you insult me, degrade me, you call me things i've heard a thousand times and you do it righteously, can't you see you're only trying to silence me not trying to argue. you are not being insulted by being told you are appropriating my life, you're doing it to describe very painful and valid trauma but that doesn't make what you appropriated actually true or especially unharmful to others. if any ounce of you is a transfeminist like your bio says, you wouldn't speak to trans women this way ever again, but somehow i think that's a useless plea, i honestly believe you'll just keep on talking like this, keep misinterpreting transfeminist language and wearing my life as a mask to hide your pain, only ever having the transfeminist solidarity with your own and then screaming at us for being "exclusionists." it's unoriginal, i've seen it all before, and im just so tired of all of you assuming i'm stupid. but hey, getting away with this kind of vocal abuse is what having privilege over transfems lets you do, i wonder how you got that privilege

surgeries and goals does not a tranny make, but i know you've seen a lot of what our lives are made of, the systems that perpetuate transmisogyny. of all people you should know better

ok for the record, the intersex argument for afab transfems is still baseless, when we are coercively or especially forcefully assigned a gender at birth we are subject to the forces of that assignment. it doesn't make me get treated like a cis woman because i had a period, i got treated like a weird "man" with something wrong with me, the same is true for any intersex person, how our conditions may show themselves don't actually change our cagab, which is the thing that matters for our society to identify deviants. we're placed into a category and if we perform that category we get to stay, if we don't we get put in the deviant box and excluded. afabs performing womanhood is EXACTLY what is wanted from them, even if they think they're "biologically male." and that's the crux of it really, being intersex is a biological condition, and because transness and gender is defined socially by our systems privileging certain genders and forceful reinforcement of the binary, it has very little to do with biology (ex why the trump order has bad biology in it, it's not about biology, it's about exterminating a social group not defined by actual biology). the assholes who argue for the case of the intersex afab transfem simply believe that there is something about transfems that can be biological, as in something biologically male. they always bring up theoreticals like "well what if they were assigned female and grew up with a body that went through male puberty" and like... you know what happens right? they get hrt, often forcefully. they are not trans they are being forced to be CIS women, and society won't demonize them for that. no one bats an eye when an afab takes estrogen, no doctor struggles to prescribe it to them, no one gets fanatical about how there's an evil cult giving them estrogen, no one calls them predators or baeddels or pedophiles. like i'm sorry but if you think an intersex argument has any validity you are boiling transness down to something biological, boiling the identities of intersex people down to be centered entirely around our conditions, and treating real trans women like a costume that can be put on and taken off for fun while we truly suffer under the weight of constant transmisogyny. you are a stooge and you invite only your own to join, either purposely or unwittingly letting them be fed vitriol and lies that align with supporting the patriarchy and continuing the real oppression of real trans women. biggest tell that the afab transfem isn't transfem: she and those who support her care nothing for her transfem sisters, disgraceful

[tpwk-formula1]

Lactation and water sports with lando please please please (they both do the water sports)

AN: I just had a full conversation with my Tumblr bestie on how I actually don't think I know how to write watersports so I give her all the credits to helping me figure out how to write this!

TW: MDNI 18+ watersports, lactation

WC: 940+

Y/N POV

It was Lando and I's first vacation just the two of us after giving birth to our son who was now a year old.

We would only be gone for a few days but non the less the both of us were excited to have some alone time.

"Drink," I say while tossing him the plastic water bottle with a smirk. I can see Lando catch the bottle with a surprised look on his face before a small smirk breaks out across his face.

I wave my bottle showing him I was doing the same before opening it and taking a big drink before turning back and finishing getting unready from the long travel day we had.

I can see Lando in the mirror reflection scrolling on his phone while drinking his water. Once he was finished with the first bottle he got up and grabbed two more passing me one of them in the process.

"I already need to go," I whine while trying to push the bottle back towards him which only makes Lando smirk softly.

"That's kinda the whole point," Lando says with a smirk making me whine but still take the full bottle into my hand and opening before taking another big drink. Once we had both finished both of the bottles I get up from my seat at the vanity and make my way towards Lando who was currently wiggling in his spot showing he that he was int he same position as me.

I quickly climbs into his lap making sure to sit directly onto his bladder making him groan and jump at the sudden pressure.

"Fuck, baby" Lando says while gripping my waist into his hands and moving me so I'm sitting on his already hard cock. Even with us both being fully dressed still it doesn't stop me from grinding down on his cock making the both of us whimper.

"Been too long," I whine and moan when Lando moves a hand over my tummy and pushing down on my bladder making my breath hitch as I try to hold my bladder in.

"Fuck, baby you're leaking," Lando grunts out with his eyes locked onto the loose shirt I had thrown on earlier. When I look down I notice some of my breast milk had leaked through my shirt. I feel my face grow red at the sight but when Lando brings his hand up to my senstive nipple giving it a small squeeze a small whimper leaves my mouth.

"Fuck, I love how sensitive they've become," Lando whispers while quickly pulling my top over my head leaving my top half completely bare for Lando's greedy hands.

As soon as Lando pinches one of my sensitive nipples I see some milk start to dribble out. Lando wastes no time leaning forward and licking the small bead up.

"So good," Lando mumbles before attaching his mouth to one of my nipples and sucking some of my milk into his mouth.

"Lando," I squeal trying to push his mouth away from my nipples but it only encourages him to suck more milk into his mouth.

"I've wanted to do that since you started producing," Lando admits sheepishly before bringing his mouth down to my other nipple giving it the same treatment as the previous one.

The more Lando pinches and pulls at my nipples the more my milk is starting to drip over my skin making me whine and grind harder down in Lando's lap.

With my bladder feeling the fullest is has in awhile I can't help the loud whimper that falls from my lips.

"Lando, I need to go," I cry out which only has Lando giving my nipple one last suck before detaching his lips and quickly helping the both of us finish undressing.

Once Lando has both of us naked he quickly pushes me back onto the bed before climbing between my legs.

"Lando, please," I beg not fully knowing what I'm asking for but Lando takes it as his chance to slowly start pushing his already hard cock into my soaked pussy.

"Fuck Lando," I cry when he bottoms out.

Having such a full bladder is making everything that much more intense for the both of us and I can tell Lando is not going to last very long.

"Fuck," Lando grunts as he starts thrusting his hips in and out of my pussy making me moan even louder.

"Lan, I'm close," I cry when I feel Lando hitting my G-spot with each thrust.

"Fuck, feel so good," Lando grunts while hit hips start to falter letting me know he was getting close.

"Lando I can't cum," I cry out when I feel the urge of my bladder to give way.

"Just cum for me, it's okay," Lando grunts while picking up his thrusts again this time fucking into my pussy even harder.

"FUck Lando!" I moan loudly when I finally allow my body to succumb to the pleasure.

As soon as I start cumming all over Lando's dick I can feel myself squirting making the waves of my orgasm that much more intense feeling my body relaxing into the pleasure.

"Fuck so hot," Lando grunts while pulling out and jerking her cock till he starts shooting ropes of cum all over my stomach.

"Fuck," Lando whimpers when the final rope of cum shoots from the tip of his still hard cock when a small dribble of his pee beeds out making Lando tense his muscles to stop himself.

"Fuck, so good," Lando moans while allowing his body to relax forward falling to relax on top of me.

------

The end! I hope you enjoyed