#yeah…I’m not going to touch this one…

[piper-2244]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[moonstruckme]

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss. 

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck. 

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.” 

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.” 

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning. 

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.” 

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.” 

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.” 

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else. 

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter. 

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.” 

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment. 

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.” 

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out. 

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you. 

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.” 

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.” 

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James. 

Remus scowls. 

“Open it,” you tell him. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.” 

“Let me try.” 

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.” 

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way. 

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows. 

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.” 

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.” 

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.” 

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?” 

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?” 

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.” 

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.” 

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?” 

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?” 

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.” 

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.” 

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!” 

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?” 

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.” 

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?” 

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.” 

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.” 

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.” 

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?” 

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?”��

“Yeah,” you say, mollified. 

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.” 

There’s no response. 

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway. 

“Pricks,” Remus mutters. 

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first. 

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?” 

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing. 

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead. 

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.” 

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.” 

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?” 

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.” 

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.” 

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him. 

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.” 

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.” 

Remus scoffs. 

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.” 

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss. 

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.” 

You and Remus exchange a look. 

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you. 

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” 

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly. 

Remus looks at you. You shrug. 

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

[heesimp]

I lwk keep imagining Heeseung doing a livestream and you’re just sitting there bored and decide to give him head when he’s talking to his fans like>>>> help😭🙏🙏

HOT. au where idol!heeseung’s sextape gets leaked so he becomes a pornstar instead. bye

also I thought about this tiktok/live the entire time I wrote this ha

-

“What time is it for me? Oh, I think it’s midnight…Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

Heeseung sits behind his desk and leans against his gaming chair, giving his fans a small peek of his bedroom. They can see his door and artwork that keeps on his shelves and walls but they can’t see the bed where you lay sleeping peacefully with your back turned.

“Missed you guys,” he says with his voice kept low. His eyes flicker over the screen of his monitor to see you naked underneath his sheets. “Why am I talking quietly? It’s night time, isn’t it? I don’t want to wake the members up.”

They seem to buy it for now. Heeseung’s soft melodies that put you to sleep still air throughout the room, songs that describe sex and sensuality floating around as it permeates within the chat room of his livestream. He sees the comments—ones he can read—and smirks when the people watching him call him out for the nasty lyrics.

It takes him back to just thirty minutes prior when he was making a mess of you on his bed, shoving his cock and fingers so deep in your hole that he was sure you’d feel him as melodic lyrics talk about having sex all day and night. He hasn’t seen you in a while due to busy schedules but now that he has his own room and the walls are relatively thick, he’s got no problem plowing into you without abandon.

“Wet the bed? Yeah, that’s a good song.” Heeseung rubs his chin and flicks his eyes over to you before looking back at the chat. “What am I looking at? What do you mean? What could I possibly be looking at?”

The uptick in his voice sends his chat room in a frenzy. He feels like he might as well be high off his last orgasm and knows his fans can sense his change of attitude. Seeing you half naked in his bed doesn’t help calm his mind anyway.

Heeseung chats with these strangers for a while before you stir. The music drowns out the sound of his bedsheets ruffling and he turns up the music just a smudge in case you make any more noise. To his pleasure, you turn to face him and immediately catch that he’s on a livestream with the glow on his face.

“I’m not tired,” Heeseung says after a beat of silence, looking at his monitor before looking at you. The sight of your naked chest makes him bite his lips, tits spilling out of the blanket as you do your best to sit upright and cover yourself. “Not tired at all. Are you guys tired?”

His cock jumps when you shake your head. “I could keep going.” Heeseung’s attention returns to the screen as he runs his free hand through his hair. “You guys are too funny. What do you mean, why am I acting like this?”

Your tired eyes seem to understand exactly what he means and your own mind drifts over to what transpired before you fell asleep. With a careful step, you make room for yourself underneath the desk and let Heeseung situate himself in his chair as you spread his legs by pushing his knees apart.

This isn’t the first time the two of you have fooled around on a livestream but it is the first time he’s done it with his camera on. Heeseung loves looking at his comments as you get him off and loves all of the tweets and posts after the fact, speculating that he might’ve been distracted during the livestream. These scenarios fuel him to keep going and he thinks he might have a little taste for exhibitionism.

He looks down at you. Your cheek rests against his knee and his thumb comes to brush just underneath your eye with a gentle touch. He bites his lip when he looks past your eyes and sees you completely naked underneath him, tits bouncing as you get comfortable with your bare pussy towards the floor.

“Mm,” he moans subtly. “Can’t wait for the weekend. We don’t have any plans, for once. What are you guys up to?”

Heeseung pretend to grab his water in order to lift his hips from the desk and let you pull his boxers down. His cock is still soft before you. Your lips come to press gentle, quiet kisses over his warm dick while he gulps the water down and flexes his thighs to keep himself calm underneath your mouth.

“Coming to Korea? Wow.” Your tongue moves over the head of his cock and repeatedly licks over his slit in a back and forth motion, which makes him choke and cough. “You’ll love it here. I know I do.”

You pay no mind to him with his subtle flirtation as you work up his cock until it’s hard. Heeseung is always like this, so sensitive that one touch makes him harder than a rock in no time. Being on the road and away from you is tough and his hand can only do so much. Your warm mouth dropping spit to coat him for a blowjob is what keeps him hard.

“What’s up with my music?” Heeseung laughs, biting his lip as you engulf his tip in your mouth. Your wet tongue is warm to the touch and his balls feel heavy with you around him. “Nothing. I just like these songs.”

That’s not a total lie. He loves them because he fucked you to this music before turning on his camera. You give his balls a squeeze when you catch him in the lie and Heeseung winces, trying to hold in his moan.

“You guys are hearing things,” he tells the chat when they start speculating that someone might be in the room with him. “Why do I keep looking down? I don’t know. I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Another lie, but you let him go this time. You push your head down to force the entirety of his cock in your mouth and feel as his hips jerk at the sudden movement. Heeseung can only smile painfully and hold in his grunts while the camera is on him. Looking down at you isn’t an option since his fans have caught on to his line of sight but the thought of getting caught turns him on. He’d probably invite them to watch you suck him off if that wouldn’t cost him his job.

You look so cute on your knees like this for him. Heeseung avoids looking down at you but sees your mouth move from his peripheral vision and holds your hair out of your face as you push yourself up and down on him. You’re insanely wet to the point where you might as well be dripping right onto the hard wood of his floors. Hearing him talk to his fans about everything but what’s happening is turning you on far more than you’d like to admit. Seeing him flirt with fans on stage fuels your jealousy and winds up in mind blowing sex when he comes back home to you. You’re the only girl he’d ever want around his dick anyway.

You know Heeseung is close by the tightened grip he has on your hair and the way he flexes his nostrils because he can’t make a sound.

“When am I coming back to America?” Heeseung asks after reading a message. “I’m coming—”

He does, right into your mouth until his salty cum coats the surface of your tongue. You swallow him with his cock still lodged in you and suck him with an iron grip while he tries to answer the question but it’s so hard for him to focus when you’re sucking him like that.

“—in a while, I think.” Heeseung winces when you start to kitten lick his slit to catch the stray beads of cum that seeps from him. “Yeah. I’d love to come.”

[puckinghischier]

so hi.. i keep thinking about how hot (and probably hopefully rough) sex would’ve been after last night’s game. you do with that information what you’d like.. i just thought i’d share my thoughts y’know completely and utterly innocent like.

✶ hope you had the best day alli, baby!! ‹𝟹

oh harls, my beautiful, beautiful quinn lover.

of course quinn would be in the need of some…rage activities once he got home. he’d be seething the entire bus ride back to the hotel, thinking about how cocky those assholes on the kings were all night. i mean, the hit on brock? the multiple intentional penalties? the cheap move from clarke?

it was all he could do to contain himself until his penalty, finally having had enough of the nasty plays. and while he was letting himself seethe and stew in his hatred, all he could think about is the fact you’re going to be waiting in his hotel room for him.

when he walks through the door, you’re laying on the king sized bed, having received his text he sent you from the locker room directly after the game.

naked. on the bed. now. absolutely no touching yourself (trust me, i’ll fucking know). don’t move until i say so.

he made you send him a picture for confirmation, wanting to know you’ll be so worked up in anticipation by the time he walks through that door you’ll be putty in his hands.

and while he’s already worked up and agitated from the game, the sight of your hand snaked between your legs, head thrown back onto his pillow, soft pants falling from your lips, has him seeing red.

he drops his bag loudly, seeing as you were so lost in the feeling of your own fingers you didn’t hear the heavy door open and shut.

the sound finally startles you out of your blissful state, arms flying up to cover yourself in a panic, dropping them to rest on your stomach when you realize it’s just quinn. the look on his face, however, does nothing to calm your racing heart.

“thought i told you specifically not to touch yourself,” he grits out, clenching his jaw so tightly he could barely speak.

you still, having been so ready and needy you completely forgot about the rule. sitting there, bare pussy exposed to the chill of the room, was torturous in the best way. you could feel yourself drip onto the freshly made bed, so the initial contact was simply the swipe of a finger to try and prevent any further mess. but the warm contrast of your finger on the cold slick of your cunt felt too good, spurring you to give your clit just a brief touch. just enough to hold you over.

before you knew it, you heard the thud of quinn’s bag and clearing of his throat, not even remembering how you ended up knuckle deep in your own core.

“i-i’m so sorry. it’s just, it was cold, and i was so wet, so i tried to clean myself up a bit, but my finger was so warm, and then i thought just one touch wouldn’t hurt,” you ramble out one long run-on sentence trying to plead your case.

“oh, i see” he starts walking towards you, quickly stripping himself of his t-shirt. “you were so ready for me, that you couldn’t wait on me, is that it?”

your face heats, realizing how pathetic it all is, really.

“well, when you put it like that…” you can’t even make eye contact with him, looking down at his hands instead.

quinn starts to untie the string on his sweatpants, letting them drop and walking right out of them as he comes to a stop at the end of the large bed.

“yeah…that’s what i thought,” he smacks his teeth at you in disapproval, shaking his head back and forth.

you take in the sight of him before you. toned body, pale skin, and my god, the hair. you’ve always been one to love body hair on a man, but seeing his large, exposed thighs, and the perfect dusting of the thick, dark hairs all over them, has your hand itching to find its way back between your slick folds.

he starts to palm himself over his boxers, earning a whimper from you in return. the noise piques his interest, eyebrow raising as he looks down at you.

“oh…you want this?” he reaches down to free his thick cock, sighing at the relief of the cloth restriction.

you don’t know if you should respond or not, scared of the consequences either way. you decide on an eager nod, mouth nearly watering at the sight.

“yeah, figured you did. always so needy, so ready to be whatever i need you be,” he says dismissively. “and lucky for you, i need this tonight, too. or i’d make you sit here and watch me stroke myself until i couldn’t take anymore, spewing everything i have all over you and this bed before making you go to sleep needy and unsatisfied. your punishment for touching yourself before i could get here.”

he must be able to see the panic in your eyes at the possibility, knowing he’s upset but surely he’s not that upset with you.

“but,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pink tip, “i think what i have planned is punishment enough. plus, i need you tonight, my sweet girl. need you to be my vice, my cure for all these…feelings i have pent up.”

you feel the physical jolt your core does, causing your body to flinch.

quinn discards his underwear entirely, placing one knee on the plush bed to start making his way to your body. you’re still sprawled out, skin buzzing at the thought of his touching yours.

once he’s hovering above you on all fours, he brings his head down to place a feather light kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, you chase him, pouting at the barely there contact.

“nope. only kiss you’ll get tonight, i’m afraid,” he sits up on his knees, in-between your open legs.

you whine out, always loving the hot, open-mouth kisses you two share while he’s inside of you.

“ehh, no more whining, either. should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules,” he scolds you, bringing his hands down to move your legs up, bending both of your knees so your feet rest flat on the bed.

once your knees are bent, he takes your hands that were resting on your stomach and splay them out on their respective sides.

“now, since you didn’t do like i asked you to so nicely, even though i’m so, so mad tonight, no touching me,” he looks down into your eyes as he says it, making sure you understand his rules.

“so, no kissing, no touching, no whining? what, i’m basically your sex doll tonight?” you sass him, rolling your eyes.

now, you expected a reaction out of him. it was your intent, actually. you expected a small smack to the leg, or a wagging finger with a stern look.

what you didn’t expect was to feel his hand come up and grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together so hard you’re forced to bite them just to allow any sort of give from the pressure.

he jerks your face to look at him, bringing his own so close you can feel his hot, angry breath on your face.

“that’s exactly right. you’re my doll tonight. mine to use as i see fit. however i want. you know why?” he pauses, heaving breaths in and out as he waits, as if you’d actually be able to answer him. “because i’m mad. i’m mad that the stupid kings thought they could beat up on my team tonight and get away with it. i’m mad that brock was taken out during the first period because of a purposeful hit. i’m mad, because the one thing i asked you to do, you couldn’t fucking do it.”

he’s seething at this point, an animalistic kind of anger radiating through his body.

your heart races in both fear and excitement. you hardly ever get to see this side of quinn, and you don’t know exactly what all was said or done on that ice tonight, but you’re sure you’re going to be able to feel the effects of it all for the next few days to come.

he releases your cheeks roughly, standing tall on his knees.

“since you claim you were so wet earlier you just couldn’t resist starting without me, too drunk on your own fingers to know what you were doing, you shouldn’t need any help then, should you?” he asks, reaching down to feel the arousal pooling in your exposed heat.

you want to whine. you want to whine and protest and complain, but before you can even think about breaking another rule of his, your breath is knocked from your lungs.

without any warning whatsoever, quinn slams into you completely, leaving no inch of your canal untouched. on instinct, you start to reach your arms up to grasp onto him, needing to ground yourself to him.

“i wouldn’t, if i was you,” he growls out, pulling out completely before slamming into you again, gripping one of your hips for stability.

dropping them back down to the mattress, you grasp the sheets so tightly you worry you’ll rip them.

your body jolts with each slam of his rigid cock into your hole, completely removing himself each time before snapping his hips so forcefully you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“god, have no clue how fucking angry i’ve been tonight”, he huffs out, not faltering his pace. “all night, watched those smug goons think they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted. then the refs wouldn’t even let me return the favor when given the chance. it’s bullshit,” he spits with a particularly harsh thrust.

you’re trying your best to lay there, unmoving, occupying your hands with the soft cotton underneath you. a choked sob of pleasure makes its way out when he hits a spot so deep inside of you, you had no clue it existed until this moment.

“but knew i was gonna get to come home to you,” he continues, distracted momentarily by the bounce of your tits with each thrust. “my sweet, sweet girl who always listens to what i say. who’s always so ready to do what i need her to do for me.”

he reaches up to pinch one of your hard nipples. you flinch, but remember to keep your hands down.

“and imagine my surprise, when i walk in the door to see you already making yourself feel good after i told you to wait on me,” he switches his hand to your other nipple, show it some attention. “made me so fucking angry all over again. was so prepared to come in and take care of you, low and slow all night. a treat for you and for me. but you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

at this point, even if you wanted to speak you couldn’t. you’re quite literally being fucked dumb right now. the effort of keeping your body still isn’t even a challenge anymore, limbs so heavy with pleasure you’re basically his to manipulate and use as he wishes.

you don’t even feel your orgasm approaching. one second you’re listening to his frustrations, the next you’re half deaf and seeing stars.

quinn stutters only slightly, abandoning his touch on your tits to move his hand to your throbbing clit.

“god, this was so fucking easy. this turn you on? me mad at you, not letting you do what you want, just like i didn’t get to do what i wanted?” he talks you through your bliss, watching your body shake and shiver while he continues his deep thrusts.

his fast circles on your clit don’t ease up, even after you’ve come down from your high. you try to wiggle your body away, your sensitivity making you squirm.

quinn’s grip on your hip tightens, halting your movement.

“don’t fucking move,” growls at you, basking at how easy it is for him to glide in and out of you, his dick covered in your release. “you’re gonna give me another one, i don’t care how sensitive you are. know you can do it. my own little slut.”

the name surprises you, quinn never really has been one for using stuff like that in the bedroom. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cause the feelings of another release to start swirling again, though.

his resolve starts to deteriorate, but he’s determined to milk one more from you before he enjoys his own release.

“c’mon. it’s the least you can do f’me, really,” he grunts, somehow rubbing even faster circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. “after no one at the game would let me retaliate, and after i had to sit in the fucking box for two minutes for just returning a little bit of what they dished out all night, giving me all you’ve got isn’t a lot to ask, is it?”

you try to shake your head, but the increased pace of his forceful thrusts causes your head to bob all over the place.

he can feel your walls starting to flutter again already, knowing it won’t take much to send you over the edge.

keeping his hand in between your legs, applying both pressure and friction to your clit now, he bends his body over to attach his mouth to your tit, showing the the area attention once again. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub.

the feeling alone is delectable, causing you to writhe in pleasure. but the second you feel his teeth encase the delicate bud, biting down, you explode yet again.

you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. you cry out, so loud and so pornographic quinn worries someone will complain, but loving every second of the sound.

you’re convulsing underneath him, tears leaking from your closed eyes at the intensity of the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

“fuck, that’s it. swear your pussy’s trying to trap me in there, doesn’t want me to leave,” quinn groans, feeling like his dick is literally being suctioned into your body.

after a few more sloppy thrusts, his balls tighten and he coats your walls with his release. he moans out, mixing with your perfect whimpers and whines as the shocks of his own orgasm cause you to twitch.

after he’s sure your body has sucked him dry, quinn pulls out of you, pushing your knees down so he can roll over to the side of you, throwing his own tired body in the mattress.

you both lay beside one another, panting and letting your bodies catch back up to you. he reaches over to grab your hand, every ounce of anger having left his body through his orgasm.

he’s back to being his usual, soft self, as he rolls over to place a kiss to your temple.

you’ve come to a little bit, turning your head to look over at his smiling face.

“maybe…maybe i should start a pact with these teams you play each week to make you mad and rile you up during games more often,” you softly speak, voice slightly hoarse from your orgasmic screaming. “if this is what i get in return, think it’d be worth the price,” you smirk at quinn.

he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face, finally placing a real kiss to your lips.

when he pulls back you open your eyes to admire him, but are met with a serious, stern expression.

“don’t push it.”

[creamflix]

gojo satoru x female reader; 18+ content, minors or ageless blogs do not interact. established relationship, you two match each other's freak. reader & gojo give heavy switch energy. use of onahole, m. masturbation. thigh riding. so much of dirty taalk. 69 >_<. oral (f. & m. recieving, seperate). overstimulation. handjob w/ onahole. continuation of this drabble ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა — masterlist here ☆

the days felt longer without him.

every day, the calls lit up your phone like clockwork; sometimes brief, sometimes winding well into the night until the two of you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

but even with those late-night conversations, you could hear it — the subtle longing in his voice, the way he’d go quiet after you told him you’d be busy the next day. you could practically hear him pout when you’d mention you had to go.

day one

"hey, hey, babe," he murmured over the phone, his voice low and gravelly as if he’d just woken up from a nap. "how was work? and don’t just say ‘fine.’ i want details."

you laughed, sinking into your pillow. "fine" was exactly what you were going to say, but with him, that never flew.

"i spent most of the day in meetings, missed lunch, and i think i’m gonna start seeing spreadsheets in my sleep."

“poor baby,” he teased, though his voice softened. "need me to come down there and save you from the horrors of corporate life?"

you smiled. “tempting offer, but you’d probably distract me too much.”

a low hum of amusement escaped him. "good. that’s what i’m here for."

day four

“are you eating enough?” he asked, almost sternly.

“yes, toru,” you reassured, even though today’s lunch had been a stale sandwich grabbed between meetings.

it was one of those nights when he was missing you a little harder than usual, and it showed in the way he couldn’t go two minutes without hearing you say something.

"liar," he laughed, though there was a hint of worry behind it. "come back home, and i’ll make you something edible, yeah? you don’t need to be a starving martyr for your job, y’know.”

“okay, okay, you’re probably right,” you said, biting back a grin. “i’ll let you take care of me. i miss that.”

the silence that followed was heavy, and you could almost picture his hand running through his hair, his gaze distant. “miss you, too. a lot.”

those words stayed with you, keeping you grounded as the days dragged on, until you finally decided to surprise him by coming back a day early. the craving for his warmth, his touch — it gnawed at you, a need left unfulfilled for too long. the longing was more than physical, though that was undeniably part of it.

he left a satoru-sized hole in your life, in every way.

as you stepped into the apartment, trying to keep quiet so you could catch him off guard, a faint sound drew you down the hall. the door to the bedroom was cracked open, and curiosity got the better of you. when you peeked inside, your eyebrows shot up at the sight that greeted you.

there was satoru, sprawled on the bed, looking every bit as gorgeous as ever —though, the onahole in his hand and the flushed, slightly desperate look on his face were not what you’d expected.

“well,” you drawled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at your lips. “i go away for a little while, and this is what i come back to?”

his eyes snapped open, pure shock flashing across his face as he hastily sat up, cheeks pink. “w-wait! you’re —” he fumbled for words, his usual cocky attitude momentarily replaced by genuine surprise. “what are you doing here? you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow!”

“i wanted to surprise you,” you teased, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. “looks like i wasn’t the only one missing someone, huh?”

his mouth opened and closed, and then he scoffed, trying to regain his composure. “oh, please. as if i was just sitting around here pining away,” he huffed, though his expression betrayed him. "just... y'know, needed a little stress relief."

"mhmm, sure," you laughed, walking closer. “well, by all means, don’t let me stop you. though, i have to say, this isn’t quite the 'stress relief' i was hoping for when i came home early.”

satoru’s eyes trailed over you, a mischievous gleam returning. "oh? and what were you hoping for, then?"

“someone who didn’t need a toy when the real thing's right here,” you whispered, reaching out to trace a finger along his jaw.

he grinned, finally dropping the onahole and leaning back on his elbows, looking you up and down with an exaggerated sigh. "guess i’ve been missing you more than i wanted to admit." he tilted his head, studying you as he spoke, a playful glint in his eyes.

"so, you were so eager you couldn’t wait even one more day?"

“exactly. but i didn’t expect to come back and find you so… needy,” you shot back, nudging his knee with your hand. “is this what happens when i leave for work?”

he let out a low laugh, catching your hand and tugging you forward until you straddled his lap. “when you leave for too long, babe. you know i’ve got a high tolerance, but i’m not superhuman.”

his hand slipped under your shirt, fingers tracing along your spine, and you felt a familiar warmth pool low in your belly. "let me make it up to you, then,” you whispered, leaning in close enough that your noses brushed. “since i left you all alone, poor thing.”

“you’re too kind,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of sarcasm and something darker. then his grip tightened, his other hand sliding up to hold your waist firmly in place. "but you know, i don’t just want ‘kind’ right now. i want everything you’ve been holding out on me."

“oh, trust me,” you murmured, brushing your lips over his in a whisper of a kiss. “you’re going to get everything and more.”

“good.” his hands slid down to your hips, guiding you as he pulled you against him, his breath hot against your ear. “just don’t expect to leave anytime soon.”

gojo’s lips curled into a smirk as an idea danced behind his eyes, his gaze flicking between you and the discarded onahole. “y'know,” he drawled, a wicked gleam taking over his face, “since you couldn’t resist coming home early and lying about it… maybe i should give you a little punishment.”

you raised a brow, half-amused, half-intrigued. “oh? and what would that be, mr. punishment master?”

he grinned, tapping his thigh. “you get off here,” he said, patting his knee and thigh as he spread his legs wider, inviting you closer.

“only here. no touching me — just use my thigh, babe.”

then he grabbed the onahole again, lifting it with an infuriatingly smug expression. “i’ll just keep myself busy with this.”

you couldn’t help but scoff, though a thrill ran through you. “seriously, 'toru? that’s your big idea?”

he shot you a taunting look. “unless you’re chicken?” he teased, patting his thigh once more. “don’t think i’ll be holding back over here, either. let’s see if you can keep up.”

you knew it was a challenge — a nasty one at that — but something about the idea had you biting your lip and inching closer, already feeling the pulse of excitement.

satoru chuckled, settling back against the pillows, his eyes darkening as he watched you straddle his thigh, your core already aching at the sensation of his strong muscle beneath you. his free hand squeezed your hip, keeping you steady. “theree we go. make a mess if you want, babe — ’m sure you’ll need to.”

heat flushed through your body as you started to move, grinding down, feeling the friction build with every subtle roll of your hips. meanwhile, his other hand lifted the onahole, and with a shameless, slow smirk, he slipped himself inside. you watched as his breath hitched, and his head tilted back, a low groan escaping him as he started to move it along his length.

“feels good,” he murmured, giving you a challenging look. “almost as good as the real thing.”

“almost?” you muttered back, pressing down harder, letting the friction against his thigh send a delicious pulse through your body. “don’t sell yourself short. maybe i should leave more often if you’ve got yourself so covered.”

“don’t tempt me,” he chuckled, but there was a heat in his eyes as he watched you move, hips bucking up slightly to give you just a little more to work with. “’m not the only one who gets needy, clearly.” his hand on your hip tightened, guiding you into a rhythm that only made the pleasure more intense.

but as much as you tried to focus on the friction against his thigh, the sight of him, jaw clenched, his chest heaving as he moved the onahole, kept drawing your attention back. he wasn’t holding back — loud, shameless sounds slipping from his lips as he threw his head back. he wasn’t making it easy for you to ignore him, not at all.

“enjoying the view?” he teased, breathlessly. “i’d say you like this punishment way too much.”

you rolled your eyes, even as heat burned your cheeks. “maybe, but i doubt you’re thinking about anything other than the real thing right now.”

he laughed, low and husky, clearly relishing every bit of it. “oh, don’t worry,” he murmured, meeting your eyes with a wicked glint. “i’ll make sure you know who wins this little game of ours. maybe next time you’ll think twice about trying to surprise me.”

you pressed down harder on his thigh, each slow grind sending waves of friction that had you teetering on the edge of control. a soft, slick sound escaped you as you found the perfect spot, the steady roll of your hips growing a little more frantic with every push. you could feel the heat radiating through every inch of his body, the roughness of his thigh adding a tantalizing burn that only heightened your need.

“shit — look at you,” gojo’s voice cracked just slightly, his smug smirk slipping as he watched you, his eyes practically glazed over. he pumped the onahole around himself with a tight, almost desperate grip, his breath hitching as his hips jerked up reflexively. “god, fuck — such a lil' mess, aren't cha? comin' back early, thinking i’d just — goddamn — just let ya off easy.”

his jaw clenched as he rocked the onahole faster along his dick, the slick, obscene sounds of it mixing with the soft wet noises coming from where you rode his thigh. the sight of him losing it, each push and pull of his hand getting sloppier, had your body tightening in response, thighs trembling against him.

“don’t stop — don’t you fucking stop,” he growled, his voice dropping lower, rougher, as he struggled to keep the control he’d so confidently held. “look at you, grindin' like some — some desperate lil' slut. can’t even wait, huh? already makin' a mess on my thigh. bet ya missed this cock more than you’re letting on.”

your rhythm faltered as his words hit you, but he gripped your hip tighter, guiding you right back into pace. “thought you’d come home and i’d just — nngh — just give it to you? nah,” he laughed, though it broke into a groan.

“you’re gonna earn it, babe.”

his own composure was unraveling fast. the slick, loud sounds of his own movements filled the room as he drove himself into the onahole with reckless abandon, his hips bucking up, muscles tensing under your touch.

“shit — fuck,” he choked out, words blurring together as he continued, “you’re — oh god, look at you — grindin' like it’s all you need. needy little thing, can’t even wait another day without throwing yourself at me.”

your pace quickened, matching his breathless rhythm as your eyes locked onto his. he was practically a mess, eyes half-lidded and unfocused as his breath came in harsh, broken pants. his control shattered entirely as he abandoned any semblance of pace, pumping the onahole roughly around himself, his hips jerking up each time as if he were imagining you instead.

“can’t — can’t believe you’re actually gettin' off like this,” he babbled, words tumbling out in a rush. “look at you, drippin' allll over my — nngh — thigh while ’m right here. so fuckin' desperate for it — goddamn,” he groaned, his own voice pitching higher, “bet nothin’s as good as that wet lil' cunt, though. you know you’re better than this thing.”

the words alone had you grinding harder, each movement becoming a plea for more as you felt the familiar coil tighten within you. his eyes caught yours, and you saw the hazy, almost dazed hunger there, his face flushed, and his lips parting as he let out a string of ragged moans.

“fuck — can’t even — shit, gonna lose it, babe,” he panted, his voice breaking as his hand slowed, struggling to keep up with his own need. his head tipped back, a strangled groan leaving him.

“i’d ruin you so good — make sure ya can’t even stand after this. you’d just take it, wouldn’t you? such a good lil' thing.”

and that was it — the filthy, raw sound of him breaking under his own need, the slurred degradation spilling from his lips, was all it took. with one last grind against his thigh, you came undone, clutching at his shoulders, a loud, keening moan escaping you as the tension finally snapped.

he watched, eyes wild, chest heaving, and you felt his grip tighten on you, anchoring you in place.

“there it is,” he muttered, voice hoarse, a dark grin tugging at his lips. “s'pretty when you fall apart.”

you let out a breathless laugh, pushing a damp strand of hair from your face as you catch him staring at you, a flush still painted across his cheeks.

“y'know,” you smirked, tracing a finger down his chest, “for someone who wanted to ‘punish’ me, you sure sounded like you turned yourself on way more than you planned.”

his eyes narrowed, a mix of irritation and amusement flashing across his face as he rolled his eyes. “yeah, yeah, keep talkin', smartass,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words.

his chest was still heaving, his skin glistening, and it was painfully clear that, despite how hard he’d come, he was already getting riled up for a round two. especially with you straddling him, looking just as spent and flushed.

“oh, don’t act all annoyed,” you teased, leaning down until your lips hovered just over his, “can feel how bad you want it right now.”

he huffed, but you could see the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “you’re not wrong,” he muttered, hands lazily finding their way to your hips.

“all that talk and now i’ve gotta remind you why the real thing’s better than my ‘little toy.’” his grip tightened, and you felt him shift beneath you, pressing himself against you with an unmistakable intent.

just as you started to shift off his lap, unready to unwind from the high you’d just shared, gojo’s hand shot out, catching you by the waistband.

“oh, where do you think you’re going?” his voice was low, almost dangerous, and before you could reply, he’d yanked down your pants, leaving you standing half-exposed.

“'toru — !” you gasped, but he was already pulling you back, turning you so you were straddling his face instead, his hands gripping your thighs with a possessive strength. the warmth of his breath against you sent a jolt up your spine, and just as your brain registered what he was doing, he pulled you down the last inch, pressing his mouth flush against you.

a moan tore from your lips as his tongue slid over you, hot and slow, before dipping inside, making you tremble.

“don’t think i’d be so considerate, huh?” he murmured, his voice muffled, sending vibrations that shot through you. “lettin' you get all needy on my thigh and leaving you like that? hell no.”

but as you felt his hands grip you tighter, angling you just the way he wanted, an idea popped into your head. your eyes drifted to the onahole, and with a devilish smirk, you wrapped your hand around it.

if he wanted to make this interesting, then you’d up the ante.

you tapped his shoulder lightly, making him pause for a split second, and leaned down just enough to murmur, “let’s make this fun, 'toru. if you make me cum before you do, then maybe i’ll use my mouth on you… but if not,” you grinned, lowering the onahole onto him with a slow, deliberate stroke, “this’ll do just fine, don’tcha think?”

a muffled groan escaped him, his grip on your thighs tightening as his hips jerked up into the onahole involuntarily. “you’re — shit — such a lil' tease,” he muttered, voice strained but amused, even as his breathing started to turn ragged.

but he wasn’t backing down.

with a renewed determination, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue lapping at you with messy, unrestrained hunger.

you gasped, gripping on to dear life for balance as his tongue flicked up, swirling over your sensitive spot, each pass sending shivers through you.

“f-fuck, 'toru,” you whimpered, trying to keep a steady hand as you moved the onahole up and down his dick, watching as his thighs tensed under you.

but your rhythm wavered when he groaned deeply against you, the sound sending a wave of pleasure straight through you.

“you’re already slippin',” he murmured, breath hot against you. “better focus, or i’ll have you begging for more before you even get me close.”

his mouth closed around you, sucking and teasing in a way that made your head spin. every pull of his lips, every languid slide of his tongue, had you gripping the onahole tighter just to ground yourself. his own hips bucked under you, and you knew he was fighting the same battle you were.

still, you weren’t about to let him win so easily.

“you think i can’t handle it?” you whispered breathlessly, leaning down a little and twisting the onahole just right, watching as his body arched up, a low, strained moan escaping him. “seems like i’ve got you right where i want you, babe.”

“oh, you think so?” he chuckled, though the sound was edged with desperation. his fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you down harder onto his face, and his tongue plunged deeper, flicking over every sensitive spot like he was mapping you out by heart. he was relentless, and soon enough, you could barely keep the onahole moving, your rhythm stuttering as pleasure overtook you.

“s-satoru,” you whimpered, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your composure as his mouth worked you over, his teeth grazing your inner thigh before he latched back onto your core. “fuck, that’s — too much —”

he groaned into you, hips jerking into the onahole with every thrust. “don’t stop,” he growled, voice muffled but insistent. “give me every last bit of that attitude, babe. just know you’re gonna lose.”

the slick sounds filled the room, the wet pull of your movements on him mixing with the desperate, messy noises he made as he devoured you. your thighs started to shake, pleasure building to a peak you couldn’t hold off much longer, and he knew it.

"c'mon,” he murmured between laps, voice rough with a mix of amusement and sheer need, “you’re close, aren’t cha? feels too good?”

his words broke you, and with a strangled cry, you came, your body trembling as he held you down, his tongue lapping up every last drop. he didn’t relent, even as you tried to pull away, the overstimulation making your legs go weak.

you slumped against him, catching your breath, but he didn’t miss a beat, pulling you off just enough so he could look up at you with that lazy, satisfied smirk.

“looks like i win,” he murmured, a teasing glint in his eye as he tapped his lips. “ready to pay up?”

you sank to your knees, his hand threading through your hair as you looked up, meeting his gaze with a smirk before taking him in. your lips wrapped around him, and his cock twitched at the first warm, wet slide of your mouth, his grip tightening almost reflexively as you took him deeper.

“fuck,” he breathed out, his head falling back against the headboard as he felt your tongue swirl around him, every inch of him swallowed by the heat of your mouth. his hips bucked, and a half-formed moan slipped past his lips, the sound raw and needy. “god, you’re — so good at this,” he panted, his words coming out in broken gasps, “shit, babe, the way you — ah, fuck —”

you glanced up, watching him unravel, his eyes barely able to stay open, a dazed look painted across his face as you bobbed your head, each motion making him twitch and groan. his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your pace, but you took it even further, letting his dick slide to the back of your throat, gagging softly as he pushed deeper.

“fuck, babe,” he moaned, a deep, shaky sound that filled the room, his voice strained as he struggled to hold back. “you’re gonna make me lose it already — oh shit, you’re perfect, just —” his words dissolved into a mess of curses, hips rocking up into your mouth, his control all but shattered.

you hummed around him, and the vibration had him practically keening, his hand tightening its grip on you as his body jerked, his breathing turning ragged.

“god, i can’t — can barely think,” he muttered, voice hoarse, a delirious grin crossing his face even as his eyes half-closed. “all i wanna do is…fuck that mouth until i…fuck, babe, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”

each time you went down, he let out a stuttering moan, his thighs tensing under your touch as he tried to keep up with the intensity of it. his head tilted back, mouth dropping open as a stream of filthy praise spilled from him.

“so good, so fucking good…can’t even think straight,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he choked on a moan, his hips starting to snap up into your mouth, matching the rhythm you set.

“bet you love this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice breathless, almost incoherent. “love it when i — when i fuck that pretty mouth raw, don’t you, babe? fuck —” his words dissolved into another desperate moan, his hips jerking forward as you took him deeper, gagging softly with each thrust.

“shit, shit, shit —” his hand trembled in your hair, his breath coming out in short, broken gasps as he finally lost himself to the rhythm.

“gonna make me cum, you’re — oh god, you’re so fuckin' good at this, can’t — can’t hold back.”

you felt him tense, his thighs tensing as he hit the edge, the low, guttural groan that ripped from his throat sending a thrill through you. his grip tightened, and with one last thrust, he came, his hips stuttering as he cums down your throat, his groans fading into a low, contented moan as he slumped back against the bed.

when you pulled back, his breath still ragged, he looked down at you with a dazed, satisfied grin, eyes filled with lazy admiration. “damn, baby,” he murmured, reaching down to pull you up beside him, “you just…you just knew how to shut me up, huh?”

you grinned, catching your breath as you curled up beside him, voice still a little raspy. "you know, maybe i should take more business trips if this is how we end up shutting each other up. kinda think we both need it.”

he shot you a sharp, playful look, a laugh rumbling low in his chest as he pulled you closer. “oh, don’t even think about it,” he muttered, leaning down to press a rough kiss to your lips, tasting himself on you.

“i don’t think i could handle going this long again. you’d come home to a whole new level of desperate boyfriend next time, and we both know you wouldn’t be able to walk for days.”

“is that supposed to scare me?” you teased, fingers running along his chest. “because if anything, i’m more tempted now.”

“careful, babe,” he said, voice low as he nipped at your bottom lip. “keep talking like that, and i’ll have to give you a reason to stay grounded right here with me, every damn night.”

you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "fine, fine, i’ll stay,” you murmured, your words barely above a whisper, “for now. but if i do ever have to leave again…”

he cut you off, lips pressing against yours with a possessive edge. “then i’ll just have to make sure you don’t forget what you’re coming back to.”

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[piastrisun]

front page flirt.

pairings: franco colapinto + (journalist) fem character.

summary: the usual charm of franco don’t sway elaine, but he knows he’s found his match—and he’s not giving up until he has her.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 5.9k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: named female character. inspired by andrew and amelia, so this is a long one. i plan on making an smau about this as well.

elaine bennett is known for her sharp instincts and unflinching professionalism as one of the most respected journalists in sports media. she's navigated countless interviews, handled high-profile personalities, and mastered the art of staying calm under pressure. she is, also, widely admired in the paddock, for the genuine warmth she brings to every interaction. drivers, team principals, and staff alike have nothing but respect for her, drawn to her quick humor and deep knowledge of the sport.

but from the moment she meets franco colapinto, the effortlessly charming and notoriously flirtatious driver, she knows he’s going to be different.

he has a reputation: the charming, sharp-witted rookie who seems as at ease with a microphone in his face as he is on the field; he’s the kind of guy who never misses a chance to crack a joke or toss a playful compliment. for him, every interaction is part of the performance, and his banter with the press has become almost as famous as his achievements on the field, he’s quickly become a fan favorite both on and off the track. when he first meets with elaine, he's prepared for the usual routine of deflecting flirtation and steering the conversation back on track. but he knows she’s going to be different.

SCENE #1.

the paddock buzzes with activity as elaine step into view, her camera crew following closely behind, already recording. her warm smile, the one that wins over every driver, spreads across her face as she approaches him. she scans the crowd, but her eyes settle on franco, who’s leaning casually against the barrier, chatting with another reporter. he notices her immediately, straightening up a little, though trying to play it cool. there’s a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, flashing a wide grin her way, the kind that’s just a little too charming, already anticipating the conversation.

she walks toward him after the reporter leaves, maintaining her serious expression despite the playful energy bubbling beneath the surface. “i’ve been trying to get an interview with you for a while now,” she says, her voice steady but teasing. there’s a glint in her eyes, but she holds back her smile, keeping things professional—at least for the camera.

“really?” franco’s voice is smooth, but his body language says more than his words. he shifts his weight, standing a little closer to her, his arm casually brushing against hers. he tilts his head, letting his gaze linger on her, his eyes scanning her face as if he’s trying to read her thoughts.

“yeah,” she nods, keeping a straight face, though there’s a lightness in her tone. “but you know, you were playing hard to get.”

franco smirks, stepping even closer, his body leaning in, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “me? i’d never play hard to get with you.” his voice drops just enough to make the words sound like a promise. his hand hovers near her arm, not quite touching but close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating from him. he’s using the excuse of the interview to close the gap, and she notices it.

“of course you’d say that.” her voice remains calm, unwavering, but inside, she feels the tension building. his presence is undeniable, but she’s determined to keep up the professional front, even though it’s becoming harder to ignore the way he’s leaning in, the way his eyes flicker from her face to the camera and back again, like he’s fully aware of the audience watching.

franco, still grinning, takes a small step back but only to tilt his head again, eyeing her playfully. “why? i’m being honest here,” he says, shrugging as if he’s confessing something. “i’ve been waiting for you to come over. every time i’m looking out for you, you’re always busy interviewing someone else.” his voice has dropped to a playful whisper now, but loud enough for the camera team to catch, as if he’s letting the viewers in on an inside joke. his fingers graze her chin, a small, thoughtful gesture, but she can tell he’s watching her closely, waiting for her reaction.

she fights the urge to smile, keeping her expression neutral. “that’s how jobs work, franco. you know that.” her voice is light, but her eyes remain locked on his, daring him to push further.

he laughs, his body language loose, but she can sense the focus in the way he’s standing—completely tuned in to her. “you sure it’s just the job, or are you just trying to keep me waiting?” he winks, and for a moment, the playful flirtation between them seems almost palpable.

she raises an eyebrow, her lips pressed together in an amused but serious line, refusing to let him get the upper hand. the camera crew captures everything, but it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of them in that moment. there's a lightness in between, the flirtation woven through her words, but beneath it, a genuine connection. the atmosphere around them fades into the background, both caught in this playful back-and-forth, completely at ease despite the cameras rolling.

franco watches her closely, clearly amused by her refusal to break character, but he’s not backing down either. he takes a step to the side, casually leaning against the railing, his body angled towards her, arms folding across his chest in a way that draws attention to his relaxed confidence.

“keep you waiting?” she tilts her head slightly, her tone dry, but the teasing in her eyes gives it away. “you think i’ve got time to keep anyone waiting?”

franco laughs softly, his eyes never leaving hers. he’s fully aware of the camera team recording every word, but he seems to enjoy the game more with the audience. “you’re right,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “i’m the one waiting, not you.” he shifts his weight again, this time leaning just a little closer, his arm brushing against hers again—but this time, it feels more deliberate. “i guess i just like waiting for you.” the words are casual, but the way he says them, with that small, knowing smile, feels like a challenge.

she keeps her expression neutral, but the playful tension is unmistakable now. “is that so?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as she finally meets his gaze head-on. she can feel the camera crew just behind her, recording the whole exchange.

he shrugs, letting his eyes drift slowly down to the microphone in your hand before returning to her face. “you’ve got my attention now,” he says, voice softer, almost as if the cameras aren’t there. “what’s next?”

she pauses for a moment, pretending to think, then finally cracks the smallest smile, enough to show him that he hasn’t completely worn her down yet. “what’s next?” she echoes, leaning in just slightly. “the interview, obviously. try to keep up, franco.”

he chuckles again, raising his hands in mock surrender, but his grin doesn’t fade. “alright, alright,” he says, the playful glint in his eyes growing stronger. “but i’ve got to say, i think i’d prefer it if you just kept me waiting a little longer.”

she shakes her head, amused, and lifts her microphone again. “i’m sure you do,” she replies, still professional, but now with a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. the camera crew catches the moment, and she can already imagine the headlines—viewers love this kind of banter.

he shifts closer one last time, just enough to make it clear he’s still playing this game with her. “you know, if you ever get tired of interviews… we could always talk off the record.”

she gives him a long look, narrowing her eyes slightly as she raises the microphone to his face, her voice cool and composed. “let’s start with on the record, shall we?”

he laughs, a warm, genuine sound, but she can see the spark in his eyes that says he’s far from done. the camera crew continues filming, but in this moment, it’s all just part of the fun. the interview has begun, but the real game is still unfolding.

SCENE #2.

the second interview starts as elaine spots franco in the paddock again, and this time, there’s a different energy between them—something more familiar, more playful, after your first meeting. the camera crew is behind her once more, recording everything, but she has learned by now that franco loves the game, and today is no different.

she approaches him with her usual confident stride, the microphone ready, her serious face firmly in place, even though she can feel the anticipation.

“franco,” she greets him, keeping her voice smooth and professional.

“elaine, hi.” he responds, his smile instant, the warmth in his voice impossible to miss. there’s something about the way he says her name, as if he’s been waiting for this moment again.

she glances at him, arching an eyebrow slightly. “we’re meeting each other again,” she says, her tone light but teasing. “finally, dare i say.”

franco laughs softly, taking a step closer, his posture relaxed as always, but there’s a spark in his eyes as he responds, “i only ever want to see you in moments like this.”

“oh!” she’s taken off guard for a second but recovers quickly, maintaining her serious face.

he shrugs, his voice casual but carrying that familiar flirtatious undertone. “can’t you blame me? you’re one of a kind.”

her lips quirk slightly, but she doesn’t give in. “really? what about other kinds of situations?” she asks, tilting her head just a little, challenging him as she always does, the camera capturing the subtle tension.

franco’s eyes gleam, and he leans in, lowering his voice enough that it feels like the conversation is just between them—even with the crew around. “now you’re open to that?”

she holds his gaze, unfazed, the seriousness never leaving her expression. “i didn’t say that,” she replies, her voice even, but there’s a hint of curiosity beneath it. “i’m just wondering.”

the air between you shifts once more, charged with the same playful tension from the last encounter. franco chuckles softly, but this time, he doesn’t press further. she can tell he’s enjoying the back-and-forth just as much as she is. the cameras are rolling, but once again, it feels like the world has shrunk down, playing your game in the midst of the media frenzy.

franco’s smile deepens as her words hang in the air, and he steps just a little closer, still careful to keep it subtle for the cameras but enough for her to feel the shift in his energy. his eyes linger on hers, playful but with a new intensity.

“i think you’re doing more than just wondering,” he says, voice dropping lower, his tone teasing but with an edge that makes the moment feel more personal.

she doesn’t flinch, keeping her professional demeanor intact, though inside, she feels the tension growing. “that’s your interpretation,” she responds, her voice smooth and steady. “but we both know how interviews work, right?”

franco tilts his head, his gaze sweeping over her, amused. “is that what we’re calling this?” he laughs lightly, the sound warm, but his eyes remain locked on hers. “because this feels like something else.”

she raises an eyebrow, keeping her cool as she tilts the microphone slightly toward him. “oh? you think this is something more?”

he shrugs, his grin never faltering, but there’s something more deliberate in the way he leans in just a little further. as he speaks, his hand casually reaches out, his fingers wrapping around the microphone she’s holding, his touch firm yet playful. he doesn’t take it from her, but the gesture makes her heart skip for a moment. “let’s just say,” he murmurs, his voice low, “i don’t get this kind of vibe with anyone else.”

her finally allows herself a small smile, just enough to acknowledge his playful attempt. her grip on the microphone tightens just slightly. “vibe?” she echoes, pretending to mull over the word. “well, if that’s what you’re picking up, i must be doing my job right.”

franco chuckles again, but she sees in his eyes that he’s still not letting go of the game. “you’re good at your job, elaine,” he admits, a bit more seriously now, though his playful tone lingers. “but i’m not sure that’s what i mean.”

she narrows her eyes slightly, pretending to consider his words. “well, i’m not here to interpret feelings, franco,” she replies, her voice still measured, professional. “i’m here to ask the real questions.”

he smirks, clearly enjoying the banter. “okay then, ask away,” he says, spreading his arms slightly, as if welcoming whatever she’s about to throw his way. “hit me with your best shot.”

she pauses for a beat, still holding his gaze, the challenge hanging between them. “how about this?” she says, lowering her voice just a touch. “what’s it like knowing you’re the driver everyone’s watching this season after your unexpected jump to f1?”

he leans back slightly, his expression shifting as he switches to the more serious part of the interview, though she can still see that playful glint in his eyes. “it’s exciting,” he admits, finally breaking eye contact as he glances off to the side, his tone more thoughtful now. “a little nerve-wracking, too, if i’m being honest. but i’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life, so i’m ready for it.”

she nods, letting him speak as her camera crew captures his words, but even as the conversation turns more professional, she notices the underlying tension. it’s like the game never really stopped—it’s just paused for now.

“do you feel the pressure?” she asks, keeping her tone level but letting a hint of curiosity slip through. “knowing that so many eyes are on you?”

franco meets her gaze again, his expression softening slightly. “yeah, i feel it,” he admits. “but i think that’s part of what makes it fun. the pressure pushes you to be better. and… i’ve got good people around me.” his eyes flicker toward her for just a second, and she doesn’t miss the way his words seem to hold a double meaning.

she maintains her professional surface, but inside, the familiar game is still alive. “good people, huh?” she says, her voice steady. “that’s important.”

he nods, his smile returning, but there’s something softer behind it now. “yeah,” he says, his tone quieter but still light. “it makes all the difference.”

she holds his gaze for a moment longer before glancing down at her notes, signaling that the playful banter is over—at least for now. “well,” she says, shifting back into reporter mode, “i think that’s a wrap for today.”

franco’s grin widens, and as she lowers the microphone, he steps closer again, just for a moment, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “i’m already looking forward to our next interview, elaine.”

her smile—this time fully—allowing him that little victory. “i’m sure you are,” she says softly, before turning back to her camera crew.

SCENE #3.

elaine meets franco for another interview during a casual media day. it’s quieter than usual, with fewer cameras and press around, giving everything a more relaxed vibe. she sets up her microphone, preparing to ask him a standard question about his preparations for the upcoming race.

“franco,” she starts, flashing her usual friendly smile, “how are you feeling about this weekend? any special strategies for the race?”

but instead of answering her question seriously, franco leans back in his seat, a playful smirk curling at the edge of his lips. he doesn’t bother with the usual racing talk. “you know, i’ve been preparing for this moment—seeing you again,” he says, his voice smooth and teasing.

her laugh comes out naturally, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. she tries to stay composed, shaking her head slightly, but the comment lingers in the air between them. “franco, we’re supposed to be talking about racing,” she replies, though there’s a hint of amusement in her voice. she’s used to his charm by now, but today it feels different, bolder.

franco, far from backing down, leans in a little closer, his gaze holding hers with a new intensity. “what? you’re the one who keeps finding reasons to talk to me,” he says, his tone lighter but insistent. “i think we’re overdue.”

she raises an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation on track, but her pulse quickens at the way he’s looking at her. his usual playfulness feels more deliberate, the line between professionalism and personal interest blurring.

“overdue for what, exactly?” she counters, her voice calm, but her heart isn’t. she’s not giving him an easy out, and she knows he’s testing her. he chuckles, clearly enjoying the banter.

“a real conversation, no microphones, no cameras,” he clarifies, his voice dropping slightly as if it’s just the two of them in the room. he’s serious, and she can feel it. his eyes haven’t left hers since the conversation started, and suddenly, the interview feels less like work and more like something else entirely.

elaine shifts, gripping the microphone a little tighter, trying to brush it off with another laugh. “is that your new strategy? charm your way through the season?”

he leans back, arms crossed, his grin unfaltering. “hey, i’m just playing to my strengths.” he flashes her a wink, making it clear he’s not just talking about his racing skills.

elaine glances at her camera team briefly, aware of the recording, but her mind’s already distracted by the shift in their dynamic. she takes a steady breath, maintaining her professional stance, but deep down, she knows franco has her cornered in a way she didn’t expect.

SCENE #4.

elaine steps into the interview space, all set to keep things professional as always, but there’s something different about franco today. his posture is more relaxed, leaning casually against a wall, and as she approaches, his eyes light up with that same familiar mischief, though now it feels heavier with intention. she notices the subtle change; the playful flirtation he once scattered freely with other journalists has all but vanished. by now, she’s the only one he reserves it for, and the realisation makes her heart skip a beat.

before she can even get her opening question out, franco interrupts, not missing a beat as he says, “you look gorgeous today, by the way. but then again, you always do.”

elaine is momentarily thrown off, her grip tightening slightly on the microphone as she processes his words. but her professionalism kicks in, and she brushes it off with a small laugh, her expression staying composed. “thank you, franco,” she replies, her tone polite but distant, trying to keep things on track.

he doesn’t let it go. he leans in just enough for their arms to brush, his smirk deepening as he adds, “i’m serious, elaine. it’s getting hard to focus on anything else when you’re around.”

her heart skips a beat, and she feels the warmth of his proximity, but she stays cool under pressure. she knows he’s trying to get a reaction, but she won’t give him the satisfaction that easily. raising an eyebrow, she tilts her head slightly, her voice smooth and teasing, “really?”

he chuckles, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, his eyes locked on hers as if there’s no one else in the room. “let’s just say that doesn’t happen often with anyone else,” he replies, his voice dropping lower, as though they’re the only ones in on this private conversation.

her pulse quickens despite herself. the camera crew behind her is still rolling, and she knows every second of this will be captured, but franco doesn’t seem to care. there’s a daring edge to him today, a boldness that’s pushing the boundaries of their usual exchanges.

she takes a steadying breath, maintaining her professional demeanor, but there’s no denying the tension between them. “looks aside,” she starts, her voice firm but softening at the edges, “i’m here to talk about your race, not to boost your ego.”

franco grins wider, clearly not deterred. his hand briefly brushes against her arm again as he leans closer, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “who says you can’t do both?”

elaine huffs a small laugh, shaking her head as she refocuses on the microphone. “let’s keep this professional, franco.”

“sure,” he says, though his eyes tell a different story. the playfulness lingers in the air between them, and though she tries to push through the rest of the interview, there’s an unspoken tension that neither can quite ignore.

SCENE #5.

as the interview begins, franco leans against the wall, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as she approaches. her camera team sets up nearby, but this time the atmosphere feels more relaxed, less formal, as if the race weekend has left everyone in a calmer mood.

she asks the first question about his performance, her tone professional, but with that familiar playful edge that always seems to bring out franco’s charm. he smiles through her questions, barely paying attention to the words. when she finishes, microphone in hand, he reaches out, gently taking hold of the microphone as if to steady it, but instead of letting go, he keeps his fingers wrapped around hers.

“there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you,” franco says, his voice low, eyes locked on hers.

she blinks, slightly thrown by the sudden shift in tone. “oh? about the race?” she asks, her professional mask slipping just a little as she looks up at him.

he grins, shaking his head. “no,” he replies, his grip still firm on the microphone. “something a little more personal.”

she raises an eyebrow, trying to maintain her composure, though she’s acutely aware of how close he is now, the warmth of his hand next to hers. “go on,” she says, her voice steady despite the tension.

he leans in just a little closer, his grin turning playful but his tone serious. “when are we going to stop pretending these interviews are just about racing?”

she feels a flutter in her chest, but she quickly regains her footing, narrowing her eyes slightly as she tries to maintain the upper hand. “is that what you think we’re doing?”

he chuckles softly, his hand lingering on the microphone for a beat longer before pulling back slightly, though the space between them is still minimal. “i’m just saying… i think we’ve had enough interviews to cover racing. maybe it’s time we talk about something else. maybe somewhere quieter.”

her breath hitches, but she keeps her expression composed, giving him a small, teasing smile. “you have something in mind?”

franco’s gaze holds hers, his smile widening as he steps back just a fraction, giving her space but not letting go of the playful tension. “i do,” he says simply, “but it’s not really something we can talk about on camera, is it?”

her heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t let him see that. instead, she tilts her head slightly, amused. “i think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

he shrugs, his confidence unwavering. “maybe. or maybe i’m just catching up to what we’ve both been thinking.”

she pauses, the weight of his words settling between them, but before she can respond, the camera team signals that they’re ready to wrap up. franco flashes them a grin, his usual media charm slipping back into place as he steps away, but there’s something unmistakably different in the way he looks at her now—something that lingers long after the interview ends.

SCENE #6.

as the sixth interview begins, there’s an unmistakable tension in the air. the setting feels quieter than usual, tucked away in a calmer part of the paddock. the hum of activity continues in the background, but here, it’s just franco, elaine, and her camera crew. the atmosphere feels more intimate, almost as if it’s just the two of them despite the cameras rolling. franco stands close to her, his energy brimming with the confidence he’s earned after a successful weekend. there’s something about the way he’s standing tells her he’s ready to push the boundaries further this time.

as elaine begins the interview, franco listens with a half-smile, his gaze never straying from her face. he answers her first few questions with his usual charm, but there’s a noticeable shift as the interview starts to wind down. instead of letting her wrap things up, he steps forward and takes hold of the microphone, stopping her in her tracks. his fingers brush against hers, and his smile widens as he keeps a playful grip on the mic.

“one last question before we finish up, elaine,” he says, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes are filled with a mischievous gleam. he doesn’t wait for her to respond, his gaze fixed intently on her, making sure she’s paying full attention. “when are you going to let me take you out?”

she blinks, momentarily caught off guard by the directness of his question. the cameras are still rolling, and she knows her crew is watching. her professional mask stays firmly in place, but there’s a flicker of surprise in her eyes as she glances at him, not sure whether to laugh or call his bluff.

franco doesn’t back down. if anything, her silence only fuels his confidence. he leans in just a little closer, his voice dropping to a more private tone. “i mean, we’ve done enough interviews by now, haven’t we?” his fingers remain on the microphone, his touch lingering. “don’t you think it’s about time we see each other outside of work?”

she tilts her head, her lips parting as she considers how to respond. she knows franco has been flirty before, but this—this is different. this is more direct, and he’s not hiding behind playful banter this time. there’s no subtlety, no room for her to misinterpret his intentions. she could brush him off with a witty remark, like she usually does, but the way he’s looking at her—so certain, so bold—makes her pause.

her camera crew stays silent behind her, but she can feel their eyes on the two of them. still, it’s as if the rest of the world has melted away, leaving only them in this charged, electric moment.

“i see,” she says finally, her voice steady though her heart races. “so this is your big question? the one you’ve been waiting to ask?”

his grin widens, and he nods, not even pretending to be bashful. “it’s the only one that matters, really.” his hand drops from the microphone, but he doesn’t step back. he holds her gaze, waiting for her response, as if daring her to either accept his offer or shut him down.

she takes a breath, then exhales slowly, her eyes narrowing playfully. “well,” she says, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something more, “i suppose i could consider it… if you can survive another interview.”

franco chuckles, the sound deep and rich as he leans back slightly, still keeping that air of confidence. “oh, i’ll survive,” he says, flashing her one last grin. “but i’d much rather we skip to the part where i get to take you out.”

the tension lingers as the interview ends, the flirty exchange hanging in the air long after the cameras stop rolling. elaine may still be in control, but franco has made his intentions clear—this wasn’t just another interview. and judging by the way her eyes linger on him, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to brush him off so easily this time.

SCENE #7.

the interview begins like any other. elaine approaches franco with her usual composure, ready to dive into another conversation about the upcoming race. but today, there’s a subtle tension in the air, something unspoken lingering between them from their previous encounters.

as she greets him, microphone in hand, franco’s eyes immediately lock on hers, that playful glint back in full force. “elaine,” he says smoothly, “i was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

she smirks, raising an eyebrow. “avoiding you? you’re impossible to avoid.”

franco laughs softly, his gaze never leaving her. “and yet, you manage to always keep your distance.” there’s a teasing edge to his words, but something else too, something more serious.

she moves to start the interview, but franco takes a step closer, his hand casually reaching out to brush against hers. the touch is brief at first, but enough to make her pause. she glances down at their hands, a slight flutter in her chest, but she tries to maintain her professionalism, focusing on the task at hand.

“so, franco,” she starts, trying to regain control of the situation, “how are you feeling about this race? confident, as always?”

he doesn’t answer immediately. instead, his fingers lightly graze hers again, this time more intentional. before she knows it, he’s gently holding her hand, not forcefully, but enough to make her heart skip. her breath hitches for a second, and she glances up at him, but he’s already watching her with a grin that’s both charming and undeniably bold.

“you know, i could talk about the race,” franco says softly, his voice low, as if the two of them are the only people in the room. “but i think we’ve had enough of that, don’t you?”

elaine tries to pull her hand back, but he holds it for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it sends a shiver down her spine. “franco,” she starts, trying to steady herself, but the teasing light in his eyes tells her he’s fully aware of what he’s doing.

he leans in slightly, closing the space between them just enough to feel his presence more than ever. “what if, just this once, we forget about the race? talk about something else... something more interesting.”

elaine’s heart is racing now, the intensity of the moment catching her off guard. she knows the camera is rolling, but for a split second, she forgets about everything else. “like what?” she asks, her voice quieter, betraying the calm exterior she’s trying to maintain.

his smirk deepens, and he gives her hand one last squeeze before finally letting go. “how about that dinner we’ve been talking about? you can’t say no forever, elaine.”

she blinks, regaining her composure, and steps back just enough to create some distance, though her heart is still racing from the brief but electric contact. “we’ll see about that,” she replies, her voice stronger now, though there’s a lingering warmth where his hand had been.

franco grins, clearly satisfied with the effect he’s had on her. “i’ll take that as a ‘maybe.’”

the interview resumes, but neither of them can ignore the unspoken tension that now sits between them, even as the cameras roll and the questions continue.

FINAL SCENE.

from the moment the cameras roll, it’s clear that today, franco isn't holding back. his confidence is palpable, his eyes locked on hers as if the world outside the interview doesn’t exist.

“you know, we’ve danced around this long enough,” franco says, his tone playful yet sincere, the easy smile on his face revealing a deeper intent.

“danced around what exactly?” her tone is playful, but she knows exactly where this is going.

franco’s smile is different today—there’s no teasing, just an open honesty in the way he speaks. “when are you going to stop dodging my dinner invitations? you said one more interview and you’ll let me take you out and it’s been two already.”

elaine raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “is this your way of trying to get an exclusive or something?”

franco chuckles softly, leaning in just a bit closer, his confidence radiating from him. “no, i’m serious. i’ve asked enough times, and you’ve given me the runaround. it’s time for a real dinner, just the two of us, no cameras.”

elaine laughs lightly, but there’s a spark of intrigue in her gaze. “and what makes you think i’d say yes now?”

franco steps a little closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around her. “maybe because you’ve enjoyed our conversations just as much as i have. eight interviews later, don’t you think it’s time we had one without the cameras?”

she pauses, letting his words hang in the air for a moment, the tension palpable. finally, a smile breaks through. “alright, franco. dinner it is. but don’t think this means you’re off the hook for next season.”

his grin widens, genuine delight lighting up his face. “i’ll take what i can get. dinner it is.”

once the cameras shut off, the atmosphere shifts. franco doesn’t move away from her side. the energy is different now—calmer, more intimate. he’s always had a playful, cocky edge, but today there’s something deeper in the way he looks at her. he hands off the microphone to a crew member, his arm brushing against hers, sending a thrill through her.

elaine lowers the microphone, her professional demeanor softening. she’s always been careful to keep their interactions light and work-related, but tonight feels different, like a turning point.

“i never thought you’d actually accept,” franco says quietly, his gaze steady on hers, a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual charm.

elaine meets his gaze, feeling her guard beginning to lower. “what can i say? i’m full of surprises.”

as they stroll side by side, the conversation shifts. they talk about their careers, the crazy schedules that keep them both moving from one city to another, and how their paths keep crossing in the most unexpected ways. franco is more relaxed now, no longer the charming rookie trying to win her over, but just himself. elaine listens, her guard slipping down more with every word.

at one point, he gently reaches for her hand, testing the waters as his fingers brush against hers. she pauses for a brief second, her heart skipping a beat as she feels a rush of warmth at the contact. surprised but pleased, she lets him touch her.

“you know,” he says softly, glancing at her with a mix of seriousness and mischief, “i’ve been waiting for you to say yes for a long time, you know.”

she squeezes his hand lightly, a smile tugging at her lips. “maybe i was just waiting for the right moment.”

franco’s expression brightens, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes. “and what about now? do you think this is the right moment?”

elaine feels her heart flutter at the sincerity in his gaze. the playful teasing from their earlier interviews has melted into something deeper, something she has been longing for but hesitated to acknowledge. “i think it could be,” she replies, her voice softening.

he steps even closer, the warmth of his body radiating against hers. “good. because i can’t be any more obvious than i already am.”

elaine tilts her head, teasingly raising an eyebrow. “obvious? maybe you were just being charming—it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

his grin broadens, and he takes a small step closer, the air thick with unspoken tension. “charming, huh? i guess i’ll have to keep it up then.”

“don’t get too cocky,” she warns playfully, her heart racing at the way he leans in just a bit more. “i might change my mind.”

“not a chance,” he replies, his voice low and confident. “i’m determined now. i’ll make you see how good we could be together. you and me—it’s worth pursuing.”

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[kaiyunsim]

80’s makeout session —

pairing : idol!anton x non-idol gn!reader

summary : you and your boyfriend, anton, haven’t seen eachother for a while so you and his members decide to surprise him (features wonbin + shotaro + seunghan)

warnings : fluff, making out, anton being lwk touch starved

a/n : first riize fic ! hope u guys enjoy :3 also i wrote this in like 30 mins so yeah !

— w/c : ~1k — not proof read ! —

anton was always a person who liked to show affection, even if it was embarrassing for him. his members would make it their mission to try and tease him as much as possible whenever you were mentioned.

it’s been a while since you’ve seen anton since he’s been busy with his group, preparing for their upcoming comeback. he’s been texting you over and over saying how much he misses you. if the members ever saw your conversations, they would never let him hear the end of it.

missing his contact as well, you decide to take a peak at his schedule and see he has a show soon. now wanting to surprise him, you contact wonbin and see if he’ll let you in backstage. after asking the company, he was actually able to get you a backstage ticket as staff.

you make it to the concert, walking into the backstage to meet up with wonbin. you got some snacks earlier as a thank you to him for letting you in without anton knowing. you see him waiting outside, leaning on the wall, trying to appear nonchalant. you found it funny.

“hey wonbin, thanks for letting me in” you thank him before handing him the package of snacks. you can see his nonchalantness leave him for a moment as he smiles at the food but as soon as he realized he puts the straight face back on.

“we should be thanking you,” wonbin argued, “anton wouldn’t stop talking about how much he missed you”

you giggle at his word but you aren’t surprised. after all, he would always text you about how he would miss you.

wonbin takes you to an empty preparation room before leaving you there to go and grab anton. after a short delay, the door creeks open to reveal the tall brachio boy in front of you who appears stunned that you are in front of him.

“y/n..?” he spurts out, mouth opened from not expecting anything. wonbin told him that there was a surprise here but anton thought he was kidding.

you open you arms reaching for a hug before he closes the door and runs over to give you one. “oh my fucking god i miss you so much,” anton mumbles into your shoulder, “we’re so busy with the comeback and tours”

“i know, but i’m here right now,” you reply with a smile, giggling after being able to see your boyfriend after so long. “i missed you too”

anton takes any remaining words out of your mouths with a much needed kiss with lots of feeling. you could tell he needed it and too be honest, you needed it as well. he leans into you, further deepening the kiss increasing both of your heart rates.

you pull out of the kiss, regaining your breath, “jesus, someone’s needy for some kisses,” you tease anton.

“of course i am, i haven’t seen you in forever. this is the best surprise the hyungs got” he smiles, giving you butterflies in you stomach. how can someone be so cute?

anton digs in for another kiss, this time you lean into him. you could tell he was all giggly cause his hands were on you waist keeping you from leaning in further.

“calm down there y/n,” he chuckled, his smile looking bigger than ever.

“okay then anton, whatever you say,” you roll your eyes but while you’re distracted he kisses you again.

the small sound of the door behind him opens up to shotaro, “the show is starting soon so get ready,” shotaro’s eyes slowly dart to you, “oh and hi y/n,” his voice softer and offering a wave before leaving to get his finishing touches done.

“you should leave and get pretty,” you joke, looking at his messed up makeup.

“you better be here after the show,” he says looking as cute as ever.

some more knocks are followed by that last statement, “hurry up anton, stop making out already,” it was likely the voice of seunghan.

anton flushes, “looks like i should go” he says as you give him a giggly nod. you know his hyungs are going to tease him for this but both of you think its all worth it.

[mywritersmind]

THREE DAYS. TWO CONFESSIONS. - KA12

summary : A pair of flirty teens with rich parents and talent running through their blood. In three days of running into eachother in black and red, the pair seem to come to the conclusion that maybe their jokes aren’t too far off from the truth.

listen up : suggestive jokes. dual pov!! mutual pining! banter! kimixbearman!reader. idk apparently i have a thing for wrong kimi x photographers

word count : 3740

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m staring at him.

He’s talking to an engineer from Mercedes, leaning against a table with his arms braced against it. Fuck his arms. Tan and veiny, gripping the table.

His curls bounce as he nods, his jaw moving as his words meet the open air. I bring my camera up to my face, peering through and snapping one shot. One for myself.

One of him.

Kimi turns his head when I take the photo, the confused look on his face changing, the corner of his lip quirking upwards.

He excuses himself, walking over to me while slipping his hands into his pockets, “Antonelli.” I nod.

“Bella.” He says it as if it’s any other word, yet the weight of it hangs above me like a knife.

He’s called me ‘Bella’ ever since I caught him talking to his friend in italian two years ago. He was explaining who was in the group photo we took at Prema and he said, “The pretty one to the left is Y/n.”

In the moment, my heart did a funny flip, but I played it off and am now stuck with him calling me ‘Pretty’ in his favorite romantic language.

“Saw your face when Lewis radioed.” I fake a frown, “Don't want the car anymore?”

He stays calm and collected, his accent hitting me once again, “It’s like you don’t want to see me every weekend next year.” He frowns, “I know you better than that.”

I cross my arms, looking up at him, “Do you?”

“If I wasn’t there, who would you bully?”

A small smile breaks my cool exterior, “True. My brother isn’t as easy as you.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head, “Ollie is a project for both of us to bug.”

⋆༺

I’m in the Ferrari garage for the majority of the day, practice going smoothly and my day getting increasingly boring.

I end up walking over to Ollie as he gets out of his car, “My speedy brother!” I smile as he pulls his helmet off, the same grin he has everytime he gets out of a car.

“My snappy sister.” He greets me as I raise a brow. “Oh! Later today I'm going over to Kimi’s room so I can’t get dinner with you…” I frown, “Sorry! Guys night. Jack too.”

I cross my arms, “How are the three of you already pissing me off and your season hasn’t started yet?” Ollie just laughs and shrugs, leaving me in the pitlane.

I continue my walk, taking some more photos even though I'm technically supposed to focus on Ferrari pics. I see Kimi in the Mercedes garage, talking animatedly with Lewis.

I pull myself away because too many times I’ve gotten caught looking at him.

I continue my walk to see Jack Doohan standing alone, “Jack!” I smile as I approach him.

He grins a toothy smile, “Y/n! Long time no see!”

“Shit, yeah! How’ve you been?”

“Great! This weather is worrying me though.” I look up to the blue skies, frowning, “I have a feeling.” Jack and his ‘feelings’ are well known in the paddock.

“Well, if it does rain i’m calling for a singing in the rain moment!”

“I’m thinking more of Tom Holland and an umbrella.” I let out a loud laugh, reaching out to touch his arm.

“I’m so in! I can definitely find a black wig and leather.” He shakes his head, his gaze flicking past me.

I turn instinctively. Kimi is looking at us, his face blank but soon turns into a soft smile and a wave. Jack waves back but Kimi doesn’t look at me, just walks back into the garage.

I make a face, turning back to Jack, “Weird.” He laughs out loud, staring down at me, “What?”

Jack just shakes his head, “I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

⋆༺

KIMI

The guys somehow found three old gaming controllers and hooked them up to the TV. Ollie and Jack are screaming at each other as I grab the ice bucket, “Hey! Grab me a candy bar?”

“Oh! And some crisps!” Jack cuts in. Rolling my eyes, I grab some cash and slip out the door.

As I walk down the hallway, I’m humming a stupid one direction song that Ollie got stuck in my head. The hotel is nice and I pause when I walk past the window.

Brazil stares back at me, the darkness isolating the few lights that are still on. I pull myself away from the view and continue humming and walking to the ice machine.

I stop my noise as soon as I turn the corner, seeing a girl standing with her back facing me, and her foot repeatedly hitting the vending machine.

She’s in pink low waisted flared sweats, and what looks like a formerly oversized shirt, cut into a crop and off the shoulder top.

“Fuck!” She yells again, this time placing her hands on the machine.

“Y/n?” I don’t mean to scare her, but she jumps. “Sorry. You need help?”

She looks hopelessly between me and the machine, crossing her arms over her bare skin, “Yes. This stupid thing ate my money!”

I can’t help but smile at her anger, her face is red and her hair looks like she’s shoved her hands through it a million times.

I quietly nod, peering into the box and seeing the stuck candy. I put my money in, buying a packet of strawberry cookies that do exactly what I hoped.

When the pack falls, it knocks her candy right out. “My savior.” She jokes before bending down and reaching into it. My gaze flicks down to her ass, the curve of her waist and her skin on display.

When she stands, I finally see her candy. It’s a chocolate bar with some sort of nuts and she looks ecstatic to finally have it in her grasp.

“Thank you!” She hands over my cookies that I hope Ollie will eat, “How’s the boys night going? They put you on errand duties?” She laughs a bit, a sound I wish I could bottle.

I scratch the back of my neck, “Yeah… What are you up to tonight?”

She shrugs, “Movies, going through pictures, snacks, crying. The usual?”

I let out a breathy laugh, “Why are you crying?”

“I miss my cat.”

“Mmm, peppermint.” I swear she almost starts crying right there. But she takes a breath, “You alone?”

It’s like a switch flips and she’s suddenly looking up at me like I'm more than some kid from karting. She bats her eyelashes, “I don’t have to be. Ditch the guys, I'm watching the princess bride.” I frown, I do love that movie.

“As appealing as that sounds… I think your brother would have an issue with that.” Her lips quirk into a slow smirk. God I love her lips.

“Tell them you got lost. Or kidnapped!” she steps a bit closer, “You really gonna turn down my invite?”

Fuck. Actually fuck. Fuck Ollie for having such a hot sister and fuck her for being so damn convincing. “You’re making it really hard for me.”

She doesn’t miss a fucking beat, raising a brow innocently, “Making more than one thing hard?”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, “You’re funny.”

She doesn’t break eye contact, “I aim to please.”

“You’re gonna get me in trouble, Bella.” I see her flirty facade break when I call her that. She likes it and I like that I can make her blush like that.

She flips her hair over her shoulder, “There’s this thing called self control.

I run my tongue over my teeth, “Trust me. I know a thing or two about it.” She looks satisfied at my answer, “Is this gonna come back to haunt me?”

She blinks innocently, backing up, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

I groan, watching her sinister smirk as she leaves, “Bearman…”

She mocks me, laughing, “Antonelli.” I want her to say my name a million times in a million different ways.

I nod slowly, “Have fun crying!”

“Have fun thinking about me!” She blows a kiss before disappearing around the corner. I want to chase after her and keep our conversation going forever.

Instead, I buy a bag of crisps and a chocolate bar. Walking back to my room, all I can wonder is why the universe continues to test me with my best friend's bloody sister.

⋆༺

YOU

I bounce around the paddock, RAYE in my headphones and my camera in hand. The sprint is over and after some dramatics, the rain started.

I texted Jack as soon as I saw the dark cloud, letting him know he’d be good as a prophet.

I run into Franco, he looks tired but happy to see me, “Fran!” He hasn’t been here for long, but his first day was when we met and hit it off instantly. He’s like another brother to me.

“I’m hiding from the media.” He whispers, “Anything interesting happen to you recently?” My mind immediately goes to Kimi and last night. Something about him just makes me need to mess with him.

But maybe it’s not all for fun, maybe it’s a bit of truth mixed with flirting.

“Uh oh…” Franco points at me, “You've got that look in your eye.”

I scoff, playing it off, “What look?”

“That look like something interesting did happen to you. Spill!” I’m about to say something but a figure appears next to us, clapping his hand with Franco and smiling at me.

“Norris!” I thank god for the distraction.

“What’s up?” He’s in all papaya orange, a water bottle in hand.

Franco smirks, “Y/n here was just about to tell me about her interesting life!” He crosses his arms, “Go ahead.”

“Oh?” Lando turns to me as well, standing next to Franco. I suddenly feel very ganged up on.

“I’m not telling you two anything! You’re both too nosy.”

“Can’t help but be curious. Especially about you.” Franco’s relaxed manner makes my lips crack, smiling a bit. “So tell us, who’s the boy?”

“You’re not my brother- you don’t get to ask that.”

“You tell Ollie about your boy troubles?” Lando asks.

“He’s my twin, it’s in the rule book. At least everything he won’t gag at.”

Lando laughs at this, his eyes tracking past me and I know instantly as him and Franco smile, “Kid!” Lando waves him over just as Franco catches the look on my face.

His mouth drops but I just run my tongue over my teeth, holding back my smile with my hands on my hips.

Kimi is next to me in seconds, coolly looking at me as if he wasn’t an inch away from me yesterday. “Hey.”

“So what are your intentions?” Franco comes in hot and embarrassing, my eyes widening at him.

Kimi looks confused and a little intimidated, “With…?”

I stare Franco down, my eyes wide and panicked, Lando finally understanding and breaking out into laughter.

“Next year. You gonna be okay with your friend on the grid? I mean we all saw what happened with Lewis.”

Kimi looks at me as if i’m going to be any help, “I think i’ll be okay… Y/n will probably give me more issues than Ol.”

I scoff, “Right. You’re so cocky with Merc. Do you need a reminded how Lewis is driving that car this weekend?” I tick and wave my finger, “Ollie was totally geeking out when he overtook him.”

He laughs as Lando smiles, “I say we get Y/n a car and see how she likes it.”

Kimi shakes his head, “Don't say that! She’ll go bowling and still win.”

I smile widely, “I was a menace in karting. Kimi has never had the pleasure of racing against me.”

“You’re the one getting cocky, Bella. You really think you can beat me?” I nod, knowing full well I would not beat him.

Lando and Franco both look at us quizzically, “Bella?” Franco speaks italian. Something Kimi clearly did not know.

Lando frowns, “Bella? Is that your middle name or something.” Kimi looks like a deer in headlights.

“More like a nickname.” I mumble.

Franco eyes me, “And you know what it means?”

Lando is still confused, “What does it mean!?”

We all ignore him, “Mhm.” I say as Kimi fiddles with his ring, “Anyways- I gotta go!”

⋆༺

I ignore Kimi for the rest of the day. In my mind, i’m blaming it on work as if the rain hasn’t stopped my job.

Well, I still sit in the garage and snap pictures of the same things over and over again. Charles and Carlos are pretty but become boring to look at after two hours of them sitting and staring into space.

“Y/n!” The head media manager comes up to me, “Could you go print out what I just sent you? It’s for a tiktok.” I nod, grateful for a distraction and a reason to get out of the cold.

Walking through the halls, I stare at blank walls and try to find the printer which we share with two other teams.

It’s hidden in a dark corner, the door shut. I walk in, still humming to my music when I face Kimi. I’m reminded of last night and how his humming ceased when he saw me.

He turns around when the door squeaks, “Oh, Hey.”

“They got you running errands again?” I smile, the door shutting behind me.

“You’re one to talk.” He eyes my phone in my hand, the picture pulled up already.

“Fair enough…” I walk closer to him, he’s leaning over the printer, “How long is your stuff going to take?”

“I’m assuming a while because I can’t get it to work.” My eyebrows pull together as I look at the tiny screen, my arm brushing his as I reach over and press some buttons.

I eye his arms, something that keeps acting a magnet for my eyes. Stupid driver workouts.

Kimi checks his watch, groaning, “I gotta be back soon.” I keep messing with it as he crosses his arms.

“I’m not very experienced in printers.” I shrug, turning to him, “Maybe we can borrow Haas’?” He makes a face, “It’s a printer, not a car part.”

When he reaches for the doorknob a sense of sadness washes over me, knowing we’ll be separated again.

But i’m supposed to be avoiding him! I can't make up my mind and it’s making me angry. I don’t want to be with him but I do at the same time and I'm busy and stressed and he’s so damn cute.

He turns it, except it doesn’t turn. His hand slides over it as it stays in place. He looks back at me, already panicked.

Suddenly, i’ve completely forgot about why I want to stay with him. Because all I can focus on is that I’m stuck in a tiny room with Kimi Antonelli and no fucking air.

⋆༺

KIMI

We’ve texted everyone we know, called and banged on the door, yet still… nothing.

I think she’s freaking out because her hand hasn’t left her bracelet. I sit next to her on the floor as she shivers, “I’m going to petition for a bigger warning budget.” I laugh a bit, shrugging off my jacket.

I see her gaze drop to the black bomber, “I don’t know how you’re cold because I'm getting hot.” I push the jacket closer to her and she offers a small smile and pulls it on.

I think she’s going to stay quiet, but she looks up and sighs, “Must be because I'm so hot.”

I laugh, grateful for her humor back, “Glad to know you’re feeling well enough to talk yourself up.” a small smile graces her lips again.

“The day I don’t, call the police.” She crosses her arms, pulling my jacket close to her, “Thanks.”

“No problem, I told you, you look good in mercedes merch.” She’s facing the wall across from us still, her head tilted back as she bites back a smile.

“Do I look good in Mercedes, or is it just because it’s yours?” She tilts her head towards me as a slow smile meets my lips.

“Bit of both?” I look at her. Her eyes locked on mine as they squint a bit, assessing my answer. “Mostly cause it’s mine.”

She shakes her head, looking forward again, her cheeks pink.

“Your flirting game has improved.” she teases again, “Must be all the time around me.” cocky. arrogant. and correct.

“Nah, I think it’s because I actually mean it.” I see her breathing change, her smile fading.

“Too far, Antonelli. Don’t do that.” She whispers.

“Do what?”

She sits up, turning towards me completely, “Giving me false hope.”

I blink, realizing that this is real and happening right now as we’re stuck in a tiny room, “There’s nothing false about it.” when she starts to look away from me, rolling her eyes, I scoff, “You can’t be the one upset about this. You started this!”

“I started this?” she looks shocked but her voice is still calm, “You called me ‘Bella’. You called me Bella and I didn’t even know your last name.”

“Some girls would like that I described her as I see her. And you 100% love it.” She licks her lips as I continue, “Ollie tells both of us to stop constantly. I thought you at least do it to bug him.”

“Kimi. I don’t care what my brother says that much and… If I was doing it because of Ollie- I wouldn’t flirt with you when we’re alone.”

“So you like it. So why did you tell me to stop?” I can’t quite place the look on her face, confusion mixed with… anger?

“I told you… false hope.”

“And I told you. There’s nothing false about it.” She swallows. I can hear myself breathing as she stares at me.

She stares at me as if it's the first time we met. She stares at me like she knows everything about me. She’s confusing and it’s making me so angry because we’re stuck in this fucking room and neither of us will-

I’m so caught up in my own mind that I don’t realize she’s leaning in. I don’t realize until her hand touches my jaw and her lips are on mine.

She pulls back, her eyes wide and her breath quickened. “I- Sorry.” I’m shaking my head and pulling her in before she can talk again.

She tastes like mint and smells like chocolate. My hand slips under the jacket, gripping her waist. I think I'm dreaming and if I am I don’t want to ever be woken up.

“Bella.” I whisper, my breath ragged and her smile pressing against my lips.

And then the door opens.

We pull apart so quickly that when Ollie blinks down at us, he doesn't see us. But he knows.

Y/n’s lips are red and my cheeks match it. We’re both panting and Ollie just blinks.

“Ollie.” Y/n says, her voice breaking the silence.

“No.” Is all he says before turning around and leaving.

⋆༺

YOU

Ollie isn’t pissed.

Ollie is… embarrassed? Uncomfortable? Horrified that he caught his sister and best friend making out?

We had texted him to get us out of that room and obviously I completely forgot because I was FUCKING KISSING KIMI.

I’m still warm and absolutely buzzing, but with the rain delay, I'm on extra photo duty. I edit all through the afternoon and fall asleep before I even think of texting him.

On quali and race day, I wake up way too early to my phone dead, and when I finally make it to the track, I'm working again.

With my phone a tiny bit charged, I text Kimi.

I’m tapping my foot the whole race, cringing at every crash and mentally screaming at every red flag.

I keep checking my phone to see if Kimi has texted me but still nothing. He pops up on the TV when Lewis gets overtaken.

I don’t mean to smile, but I do.

It’s ridiculous. I’m acting like a total school girl! One day, i’m flirting and sizing him up because I thought our game was… well… just a game. Even though I didn’t want it to be. And the next, I'm kissing him and checking my phone like an obsessed freak in love.

I really do like him. And that scares me a whole lot more than I expected.

⋆༺

KIMI

I frown with the team at todays result for Lewis, but I fucking run out of the garage the second the podium starts.

I find her in the midst of chaos, her hair is wet and I can’t help but laugh. She doesn’t see me yet, but she’s making a disgusted face and peeling her hair off her face, “Bella.”

She turns just then, her face morphing into a smile, “Hi.”

“You wanted to talk?” She nods, pulling me into an empty glass room.

“I like you.”

A slow smile pulls at my lips as I lean against the table, “I like you too…”

She sighs, like all she needed was to hear that. “But i’m fucking scared because how does that even work and I always thought you flirted back as a joke and Ollie is so weird about it and I really really like you.”

I take her hand in mine, her eyes settling on me, “The first time I saw you, I told Ollie you were pretty. He then informed me that you were his twin and I wanted to die.” She laughs out loud, “But it’s more than your face, because as pretty as you are, and as much as we flirt… I like you because you’re the smartest eighteen year old I know and the only one who can make me laugh and blush simultaneously.”

Her breath slows, stepping closer so she’s standing in between my legs, “I’m sorry for being a pussy about you.”

I laugh, “I wouldn’t give up your cheesy lines for anything.” my favorite smile stares back at me. The one that I create. I poke her in the side, “You fancy me!” I mock her accent as she rolls her eyes and kisses me.

She’s sweet and perfect and my girl.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑺𝒐 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍*

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Fluffy smut (tiniest bit of angst)

Warnings: Oral (F), Praise, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Slight mirror sex?, lots of use of beautiful, sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

Find The Request Here

-🖤

You were out shopping with some friends, looking for some new clothes for the summer. You found a few pretty things taking a few pictures to ask your boyfriend what he thought of them. Like normal he just replied kinda bland.

You: How do these look? I really like this black one.

Mong😘: Looks good

You: Should I get them? I don’t knooow :(

Mong😘: Get them if you want

You felt a bit sad, I mean he wasn’t being mean or anything. However you were at least hoping for a ‘you look pretty’ or something more. This is how Seungmin is though he doesn’t express himself really well and sometimes it makes you feel bad. Like you’re either boring him or he doesn’t care. You signed a little not even wanting to get it anymore but your friends made sure you did.

When you got home you put the stuff away walking past seungmin who was sitting on the couch scrolling his phone. You thought to yourself ‘maybe if I show him it now he’ll say something?’ You could only hope. You slipped the pretty black dress on walking back out to the living room.

“You got the dress” he said looking up for a moment from his video.

“Yeah! How’s it look?” You asked with a small hopeful smile.

He didn’t even look up shifting a bit in his seat before replying “Good” he said bluntly.

The small smile on your face faded looking over at him before walking back to the room. You felt defeated like maybe he just didn’t find you attractive anymore. You crawled onto your bed hugging onto a pillow and felt a tear fall. You didn’t even realize you started crying. A whirlwind of thoughts spun around in your head. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ ‘Does he even like me anymore?’ ‘Am I just not attractive?’ Your heart sank more and more as the thought just kept swirling.

Seungmin however was still sitting on the couch he let out a small breath situating himself. Realistically he loved the dress on you, you looked so fucking good. When he saw the picture of you in it his cock god instantly hard and seeing you in front of him was the same thing. He didn’t wanna seem like a horn dog so he just kept his thoughts at bay. He did that a lot, knowing how men have treated you in the past. Unbeknownst to him how he was making you feel.

You eventually took the dress off putting it back in the bag. You were just going to take it back. When seungmin had came back to the room he noticed the dress sitting by the door folded in the bag. “Not hanging it up?” He asked looking over at you.

“No. I’m.. I’m just gonna take it back” you said softly not meeting his gaze.

“What why?” He asked confused.

“I just am ok..” you snapped a bit curling yourself into the pillow.

“Is there something wrong with it?” He asked.

“I don’t know is there? Or is there just something wrong with me?” You snapped again this time sitting up to glare at him.

He was taken back a bit “what?”

“Nothing just forget it” you said getting up to walk into the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you feeling like you were gonna cry again. You heard a small knock before seungmin slowly opened it. “Are you alright?” He asked softly.

“Seungmin..” you said choking back your tears. “Am I not attractive to you anymore?” You said voice almost a whisper.

“what? Why would you think that?” He asked more confused than ever.

“You barely touch me, you didn’t even look up from your phone when I came out.. you couldn’t even tell me I looked good in it..” you could feel the tears slowly falling now. Seungmins heart dropping.

“Hey” he said reaching out to you. He cupped your face with his hand whipping the tears away. He turned your head to look at him where you could see the hurt on his face. “I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t- like I don’t like you..” he said softly.

“Then why are you so bland when we texts? Why does it seem like I’m just.. ugly or something..” you said in a whisper.

“Sweetheart, you’re not ugly. I find you so attractive.. I guess I’m just really bad at expressing how I feel towards you because you make me feel so much.” He says. “That dress looks so phenomenal on you. You look- god you look so good in it.” He admits.

You look over his features trying to figure out if he’s being genuine. “Put it back on. I’ll show you how much I like it” he says with a smile.

Although you’re hesitant you do, you go back out slipping it back on before opening the door once more. He smiles taking your hand to bring you over to the mirror for a second. “Look at you. Look how beautiful you look. Those curves” he says placing his hands on your hips. “Your tits look so good in it too, they’re just sat so nicely” he says as he brings his other hand up to fondle them over the fabric. The suddenness of it making you jump a little.

He massaged the softness of your skin, he pushed his body against you letting you feel how hard he was. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his touch, the feeling of his cock. “And the nice thing about dresses is that I can see those sexy thighs of yours.” He says letting the hand from your ho caress at the plush skin. “And even better thing is that I can do this” he says hiking your dress up a bit to expose your panties.

His hand slid up pressing firmly on your clit. You let out a gasp before moved your panties to the side slipping his fingers under the fabric. He slid his fingers up and down your folds. You felt yourself becoming soaked as he played with you. “Look at yourself sweetheart. So beautiful. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t think that. But actually I was trying so hard not to just jump you. Fuck. This dress just looks so good on you.” He says before pushing his fingers into your dripping core. His hand that was playing with your tits pulled down on the fabric, Letting your breast spill out.

“My beautiful girl, let me show you how much I love you. How beautiful you are to me.” He says against your ear. You could only let out a groan in acceptance. He moved his fingers into curling them as he picked his pace up a little. He left sloppy kisses to your neck sucking at it, his other hand playing with your nipples. His body rutted against you and in all the pleasure your legs started to wobble.

“Seung- I-“ you stuttered out not being able to finish your sentence.

He smiled before removing himself from you for a split second. He moved your body to face him kissing you hungrily. His hands gripped you close to him he slowly moved you backwards, letting you fall back to the bed. He got on top of you meeting your lips again. He fumbled to take his pants off as he kept kissing you not wanting to pull away. His tongue darted into your mouth wrestling with yours.

You could feel his cock now against your panties. However they weren’t there long before seungmin was pulling them off. He let his cock glide up and down your folds collecting all your wetness. You moaned into the kiss hands finding his hair deepening the kiss. You could feel the warmth from his body against yours his hands wondering lower and lower before they slid into you once more. Fingers pumping into you as his cock slid against your clit.

“Min” you said between breaths.

“Yes sweetheart?” He said pulling away.

“Please” you begged not knowing exactly what you wanted.

He hummed in response before pulling his fingers from you once more. You whined feeling the emptiness only to have seungmin pushing his tip against your entrance.

“This what you want?” He said in a teasing tone.

You nodded “yes, want you”

“Anything you want sweetheart I’ll give you” he said.

He pushed himself slowly into you savoring the feeling as your walls clenched around him. He leaned down to kiss you again as he started to move. His hips rolling into you, cock hitting so perfectly at your cervix. He started off with slow, shallow movements before picking his pace up.

“Y/n- fuck you’re so pretty” he said looking down at you. The way you looked back at him eyes already hazy lost in the pleasure made his cock twitch. His hips snapped harshly pushing him deep into you.

“Fuck!” You moaned out hands scrambling to hold onto him.

“Shit- shit” he said pulling out of you. He was so close already. He didn’t wanna cum yet, he wanted this to last longer. Needed it to last longer, needed to make you cum first.

He moved his body down you, hastily attaching his mouth to your gaping hole. He pushed his tongue in to you. Hands coming down to grip your thighs, as he ate you out like a starved animal. His nose brushed against your clit making your body arch off the bed.

“Min! Seungmin!” You almost screamed hands gripping at his pretty locks. You bucked your hips into his tongue feeling your high getting closer.

“That’s it- use me sweetheart- make yourself cum on my tongue.” He groaned. He let you move against his tongue. His cock twitching at your moans and the grip you had on his hair.

“Shit! Min- I’m- I’m cumming!” You said gripping his hair harder. Legs clamping around him as your body stuttered chasing your high. Seungmin lapped at your juices licking everything you gave him. He rode out your high letting your body settle a bit. He pulled away from your core eyes glazed. His lips glistened with your juices licking them clean.

He moved quickly hovering over you once more. He pushed himself into your sensitive cunt moving sloppily into you. “My beautiful baby. The love of my life. M’sorry for making you feel the way you did. No more. Fuck- I’ll remind you every day how much I love you” he babbled on.

You felt another orgasms sneaking up on you and as if seungmin could read your mind he moved a hand to your clit. Rubbing the overly sensitive nub in unison with his thrusts. The moans that escaped your lips drove him closer and closer to his high.

“Gonna cum for me again? Please- fuck please cum with me” he pleased. Eyes locked on yours now.

“Close Min, I’m- I’m close!” You admitted and he knew. He could feel your cunt clenching around him. Walls pulling him deeper into you.

He moved his hand once more to interlock with your hands. His body pressed against you as he rutted into you deeply. You felt his cock twitch before a guttural moan left his lips. You felt his warm cum spraying your walls coating them as his thrusts slowed a bit. The feeling of his cum mixed with the sounds he was making drove you over the edge. Fuck did he sound so hot.

Your legs gripped around him pulling him in even more before you came. The feeling making him let that sweet sound out again mixing with your own moans. Seungmins body fell to your side pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around you kissing your shoulder softly as you both caught your breath.

You could feel his cum dripping out of you making you shiver a bit. “Y/n, if you ever feel this way again tell me ok?” He said softly.

“I will, I’m sorry” you said breathily.

“Hey, none of that don’t apologize. I’m the one that made you feel that way.” He said turning you to look at him. “I love you y/n”

“I love you to Min. So so much” you said smiling fondly at him.

“Let’s get cleaned up, don’t wanna ruin the pretty dress” he said with a smile.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna return it” you said teasingly.

“Nope. Never getting rid of it” he said with a little chuckle.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Touch Yourself

Pairings - Drew Starkey x Female!Reader

Summary - based of a scene in love lies and bleeding.

Warnings - finger fucking, vibrators 18+

You stood in the bathroom, brushing your teeth as you stared back at yourself in the all too big mirror. Bending your neck left and right until a small crack traveled up, loosening the knot that kept forming.

You had been stuck at your desk all day, writing your second book. Ideas had started to fade and motivation was nowhere in sight, deciding it was time for sleep you made your way to the bathroom.

Drew was due home any minute, working late on the set of his upcoming movie. You had planned to be awake when he got home but the tiredness had become overwhelming and your eyes blurred from the laptop screen.

Just as you bend over the sink to wash your mouth out the front door slams closed and you jump at the intrusion of noise, Drew’s walking through the threshold of the bedroom seconds later. Throwing his bag onto the chair, his eyebrows are creased together in annoyance. “Babe?” You call out, his eyes meet yours through the mirror and his facial features soften. Pulling his shirt over his head he begins walking towards you.

He crowds your space, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face into your neck. “You okay?” You question, enjoying the closeness of your boyfriend. You both didn’t get much time together anymore as he was always filming or you were busy in meetings for your book. “Just missed you” he mumbles into your neck, his lips kiss at your sensitive spot sending shivers up your spine. “I missed you too”.

You go to turn around but he holds you in place, running his hands down the length of your arms and moving them up above your head, pressing your palms against the mirror in front of you. “Wha-” you cut yourself off as his hands slip under your shirt, tickling your stomach and skimming under your breasts. His eyes flick to yours for a moment silently asking for approval, you press your ass into his crotch and he palms your tits. “I've been hard all day for you” he groans, you're now realizing the hardness pressed into your ass is his cock and not his belt.

You stay silent as his hands wander your body, he kisses your shoulder blades and drops to his knees behind you. Lifting your oversized shirt to your waist, taking a soft bite to your ass cheek and then kissing the teeth marks. “I want to touch you baby.. I want to stretch you out, see how far I can take you” he groans, slipping his hands between your legs and pushing them apart to give himself room. “You want that baby? Want me to play with you?”

“Yeah” you breathe, watching him through the mirror. He pulls down your panties and presses his palm into your lower back. Your hands slide from the mirror to grip the faucet, your pussy on display for him now. He presses a kiss to your wet lips and runs a finger through your folders. You watch as he sucks on his finger and brings it to your cunt, he starts off slow, pushing one finger into your hole. His eyes don’t leave yours as he pushes a second and then a third. “Fuck” you moan out, his fingers are slow and tantalising. Stroking your walls softly and nudging your soft spot with each thrust, your clit aches to be touched but he doesn’t go near it, knowing it’ll tip you over the edge too soon.

He’s enjoying you squirming, suddenly he’s inserting a fourth finger and you're crying out in half pain and half pleasure. “That’s it baby.. stretch you out so you can take my cock” he whispers, kissing your ass cheek again until his face is buried in your cunt. Tongue swirling and sucking until you're seeing white and cumming on his face.

He pulls away and orders you to spin, pushing you against the vanity. He’s still on his knees for you, staring up at you with lustful eyes. “Touch yourself”

The apples of your cheeks redden and you clench your fists together at your sides. “Come on baby, show me what you do when I’m not around to make you cum” he begs, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to your pussy. You nod and spread your legs again for him, reaching between your legs. You can feel the dampness on your thighs. You press your fingers to your clit, circling softly. “Is that what you do?” He questions, looking between your hand and you. You bite your lower lip and shrug. “Fuck baby come on.. that’s not what you do, show me how you fuck yourself”.

You pull your fingers from your pussy and bring them to your mouth, sucking on two fingers before dropping them back between your legs, his eyelids heavy and chest pounding. His eyes follow closely as you swirl the tips of your fingers across your clit and slowly push them deep inside of you, I gasp falls from your lips at the intrusion. “I usually use a vibrator.. for my clit” you choke out, riding your fingers as he grips your hips. He nods and pulls himself to stand. “Keep going”.

He exits the bedroom and rounds the bed to your side, opening the draw he grabs the small handheld vibrator and enters the room again. He kicks at your feet silently asking you to spread yourself further for him. Dropping to his knees all over again. He flicks the switch of the bullet and brings it to your pussy, teasing you by running it across your hand and just above your clit, he wants until your squirming above him and presses the vibratortor to your clit, watching as your eyes widen at the fluttering sensation.

“Oh shit” you cry, your fingers pushing deeper inside of you. “That’s it baby, fuck you look so good making yourself cum” he groans, pressing the head of the vibrator against you harder, sending you into a shaking mess. Your orgasm hits you instantly and you wobble on your legs, his arms wrapping around your waist as you cum around your own fingers.

“Such a good girl.. now let me fuck you baby”

[pandapetals]

Don't Leave

Logan doesn't want you to leave.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

"Just one more kiss, sweetheart," Logan murmured, his lips brushing yours. His hand, warm and steady, rested against the small of your back, holding you close as if reluctant to let go.

You smiled, though you tried to hide it, glancing at the clock over his shoulder. "Logan, I’m already late," you countered, but despite your words, you made no move to pull away. His arms felt too comfortable around you, too familiar.

Logan gave a small huff, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Exactly," he said, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead. "You're already late. What’s another minute?" His thumb gently traced a circle along your hip, his tone casual, though there was something behind his words—something you could feel in the way he was holding onto you just a little tighter than usual.

You chuckled, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. "Is this your subtle way of saying you don’t want me to go? Because if it is, it’s cute."

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, but you could see the flicker of vulnerability in his gaze—the one he tried so hard to hide. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, his voice rough, but his eyes softened as they searched your face. "Just stop smilin' at me like that."

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like you're gonna go, and I'll be fine with it," he muttered, his hand slipping up to gently cup your cheek. "I don’t like it, and you know it."

The truth of it hung in the air between you—Logan, with all his strength and gruffness, was still so achingly tender when it came to you. Even though you were just leaving for a few hours, it was enough to make him restless, enough to make him worry in that quiet way he did. You had seen it in his eyes earlier when you'd first mentioned the trip, the way his jaw had tightened just a little, the way his hand had lingered on your arm longer than usual.

"Logan," you whispered, your smile fading into something more tender as you leaned into his touch, your forehead resting against his. "I’m just going for a few hours. It’s not like I’m going across the world."

"Doesn’t matter," he muttered, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "Could be a few hours, could be a day... either way, I don’t like when you’re not around." He paused, his voice dropping to a lower rumble. "Can’t help it."

Your heart swelled at the quiet confession. Logan didn’t open up easily—his vulnerability was something he kept hidden behind all the gruffness and strength. But with you, he let those walls slip, bit by bit.

You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, feeling it beat steadily beneath your lips. "I’ll be back before you even know it," you promised, though you could feel the weight of his worry pressing against you.

Logan let out a long breath, pulling you even closer like he couldn’t quite let go yet. "Yeah, well," he muttered, his lips grazing your forehead again, "don’t keep me waiting too long."

"I won’t," you said, your voice soft as your hands ran up his chest to cup his face. You tilted his head down slightly so your eyes could meet his. "You’re gonna be fine, tough guy. Promise."

Logan huffed, though the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "Don’t like it when you leave," he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t help saying it again. "But yeah, I’ll be fine." He paused, his eyes locking with yours, his hand brushing the back of your neck gently. "Just... come back to me."

You smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss to his lips, savoring the warmth of him. "Always," you whispered against his mouth. "I'll always come back to you."

He kissed you once more, deeper this time as if sealing the promise. When he finally pulled back, his hand lingered in yours, fingers brushing over your knuckles as he let you go reluctantly.

As you turned to leave, grabbing your bag, Logan watched you, that familiar look of quiet concern still etched on his face. "You got your phone?" he asked, his voice a little rougher now like he was trying to cover up the softness.

You smiled, holding it up. "Yes."

"Just makin' sure," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, though the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gave him away. "Text me when you’re on your way back."

"I will," you said, pausing at the door to give him one last look. "Don’t worry so much."

Logan scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "I always worry about you, sweetheart," he said quietly. "You know that."

As you walked out the door, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a blanket. No matter where you went, or how long you were gone, you knew Logan would always be waiting for you and y ou couldn’t wait to come home to him.

[shitsndgiggs]

Heyyy

What about something very cutesy where Kenan and reader are on vacation(where he went this summer with his friends) and reader is waiting for Kenan to get ready on their bed to go out for dinner and when he finishes he goes to her and they kiss etc and Kenan doesn’t want to leave anymore but the reader obliges him. Little messy I know😔

STAY IN? - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan wants to stay in

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The hotel room was softly lit, the sounds of waves crashing on the beach outside filling the air with a peaceful rhythm.

I was sprawled across the bed, my legs dangling off the edge as I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone.

Kenan had been in the bathroom for what felt like forever, getting ready for our dinner reservations.

I sighed dramatically, calling out to him, “And you say I’m the one who takes forever to get ready? What’re you doing in there, applying a full face of makeup?”

From behind the closed door, I heard him laugh. “Patience, woman. I’m almost done,” he teased back.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. I was honestly just excited to spend a night out with him after our long day exploring the island.

It felt like we were in our own little world here, with no schedules, no responsibilities—just each other.

Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kenan stepped out, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

My eyes traveled over him, taking in the sight of his sun-kissed skin and how ridiculously good he looked in that fitted shirt. He smirked when he caught me staring.

“What? You like what you see?” he asked, his voice a low tease as he crossed the room to me.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “You clean up alright, I guess,” I said, though the way my eyes lingered on him gave me away.

Kenan’s smirk widened as he leaned down over me, one hand resting on the mattress beside my head. “Just alright?” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Yeah,” I teased, my heart skipping a beat as he brought his lips closer to mine. “But you really took your time in there.”

“Maybe I was trying to look good for you,” he said softly, brushing his lips over mine in a quick peck.

I let out a small, satisfied hum, intending to sit up and head to the door, but Kenan had other ideas. He caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face back toward him.

Another kiss—slower this time, his lips lingering on mine like he was savoring the taste.

I sighed into the kiss, melting under his touch as he deepened it, turning what was supposed to be a quick peck into something that had my toes curling.

The kisses came one after another, each one slower, more drawn out than the last. Kenan’s hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he tilted his head, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that left me breathless.

It was the kind of kiss that made the world outside fade away, the kind that made me forget about dinner reservations and everything else.

“Mmm,” Kenan hummed against my mouth, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. “Maybe we should just stay in tonight…” He mumbled the words between kisses, his voice husky and warm.

I let out a breathless laugh, pushing lightly at his chest even as I felt myself giving in to the way his fingers traced circles against my skin. “Kenan,” I protested weakly, but he only kissed me again, his lips finding that spot just below my ear that made my knees go weak.

“Seriously,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, “I don’t think I can leave this room now.”

As much as I wanted to just melt into his embrace and forget all about dinner, I knew we’d regret missing it. I placed a hand on his cheek, pulling back just enough to look into his darkened eyes.

“We have a reservation,” I reminded him, though it came out in a breathless whisper.

Kenan groaned dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine. “Who cares about food when I’ve got you right here?”

I laughed, gently detangling myself from his hold and stepping back. “We can come back here after dinner,” I promised, giving him a cheeky grin. “But first, we eat.”

He gave me that adorable pout, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he wasn’t giving up that easily. “Fine,” he sighed, grabbing my hand as I started toward the door. “But you owe me dessert when we get back.”

“That can be arranged,” I said, my heart fluttering at the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

[bucksangel]

don't blame me (love made me crazy)

Pairing: softdark!stalker!bucky x reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: You’ve been stuck in this cabin for a year, and over the course of that time you’ve tried so hard to remember that you didn’t come here willingly. But, Bucky is really good at making you forget that part, until, eventually, you come to believe that this is where you’re meant to be. No matter how you got here.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! Minors DNI, references to kidnapping, full on stockholm syndrome, smut, wet dreams, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft love-making mixed with some roughness, squirting, crying is healthy, a little hurt-comfort, alpine makes an appearance

a/n: this is part 2 to temptation!! However, you don’t necessarily need to read part 1 to understand this, it will just give some backstory.  not beta-read so all mistakes are my own.

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

Soft, plush lips are brushing over yours, hands caressing your sides and squeezing every so often, your hips rocking. You’re not quite sure where you are or who is touching you, you can only make out the hazy form above you; bright blue eyes darkened by desire stare down at you. The person pulls back at the same time you feel a pressure between your legs. Upon looking down, you see a toned stomach clenching every time their hips meet the back of your thighs. You’re spread open, gasping and whining as more pressure builds. Slowly trailing your gaze upwards, your eyes roam over an equally chiseled chest, your eyes catching the reflection of light on metal. And that’s when you know who it is that’s currently inside you, but you don’t seem to believe it until you look up further and come face to face with – 

Bucky. It’s Bucky, his smile so soft and loving, his breath fanning over your face as he whispers praises into the air. You can’t make out what he’s saying, everything is still too fuzzy, all you know is that you’re about to cum. You can feel it, you can practically taste it, and you’re sure Bucky can tell because he shudders when you involuntarily clench around him.

“Angel,” He whispers, cutting through the fog in your head. You whine, wiggling your hips slightly to get him to go faster. He doesn’t.

“Angel,” He says again, louder this time. You can feel yourself rocking, and more whines and whimpers spill from your lips.

Your body is shaken a little harder, and all at once, the haze is gone.

The haze is gone, now replaced by the soft light of the sun streaming in through the curtains. Upon opening your eyes, you blink slowly, staring up at a smiling Bucky with bleary eyes.

“B-Bucky?” You mumble, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost seven-thirty. I was going to wake you up so we could shower together, but you looked so peaceful that I decided to let you sleep in a little longer.” His smile gives away that he probably knew what you were dreaming about, and the thought makes your face grow hot. There’s a stickiness between your legs, one that you’re desperately trying to ignore as you sit upright.

“Oh, I - I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, you know how much Bucky likes keeping you on a routine. You’re supposed to wake up at seven every morning, shower with Bucky, and then sit on his lap as he feeds you whatever he made for breakfast that day. So, for him to disrupt your schedule, even by thirty minutes, feels weird. You decide not to question it for the time being.

“No, baby, it’s okay,” Bucky says as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know we did a lot of gardening yesterday so being in that heat probably made you extra tired. But, now that you’re up, why don’t you go ahead and get showered while I make us some food, yeah?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know it’s not. You don’t really get a say in anything, but… but that’s your life now, isn’t it? Not being able to decide for yourself, having no freedom from outside of the confines of this cabin that you’ve been trapped in for… god, who knows how long.

Without wasting much time, you slide out of bed, stopping to give Bucky a smile and a kiss before you go into the bathroom. When you enter, you make sure to leave the door halfway open, another thing Bucky likes. He doesn’t like the idea of a barrier between you two, always needing easy access in case you somehow injure yourself, or he just needs some extra love and doesn’t want to waste time by fiddling with the doorknob. 

Your movements are almost robotic as you take off your clothes, once again ignoring the ache between your thighs as you toss your clothes in the hamper. You try not to look at yourself in the mirror, you actually hate doing it. Because the person who looks back at you is supposed to be you. The person in your reflection is supposed to have life in her eyes, her face shouldn’t have a permanent frown etched onto it whenever she doesn’t have to plaster on a fake smile for Bucky.

Except… is it fake? It’s been so long since you’ve seen your friends and family, your loyal customers at the coffee shop you used to hate working at but now would give anything to go back to, you’d happily take the yelling from angry customers over their drinks being wrong than being held in the middle of the woods by a man who desperately needs intense therapy. He told you he used to go before you ‘moved’ in, as he likes to say, but now with you around he doesn’t feel the need to go. He has all of his happiness right in his home every day.

And it’s getting significantly harder to convince yourself that this isn’t what you want, you don’t want to be confined to this cabin and the garden surrounding it. It’s so fucking hard to forget that this isn’t the fairytale romance you had envisioned as a kid, but it’s also hard to remember your life before Bucky. Because he’s just so damn sweet and loving that it’s fucking with your mind, it makes you want to scream.

Bucky goes out and buys you flowers every Sunday, making sure to write a heartfelt message on the card attached to the bouquet by a ribbon. He built a huge library before you got here and let you pick the trinkets and books that would fill the shelves. He even bought gardening supplies after a few months when he realized you were getting too cooped up and gave you access to the space in the backyard.

You like to think that if you met under better circumstances then your relationship would be vastly different. It would be happy for both of you, not just one-sided. However… would it really be so bad to just give in? By now you know you’re never escaping, and you’re tired of being so despondent all the time, you’re tired of dreading another day with your captor.

You’re just tired. Of everything.

It takes effort to pull your gaze away from the mirror, but you eventually reach into the shower to turn the water on. When it’s warm enough, you step inside, letting the hot water cascade over your body and soothe the ache in your soul. And while standing under the stream your mind wanders back to your dream.  You’ve been having these dreams more and more over the last few weeks. They don’t happen every night, and it’s not always the same scenario, but the overall theme of the dreams is just the same.

You’d bet you’ve been in this cabin for almost a year, judging by the change in weather reminiscent of when you were taken. And in that time, Bucky has made no sexual advancement towards you. His affection usually consists of kisses, cuddles, and gentle massages when he wants you to really relax. There might be a bit of groping when you’re in the shower together, but he’s done nothing more than that, and that confuses you even more. You figured at first that maybe he was just going to let you acclimate to this new environment before making his move, but he’s done no such thing. He’s been very clear in his pure intentions, has never made you feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.

But why? Isn’t your sole reason for being here to please him?

Once again, it confuses you, and when you move your head slightly some of the water splashes onto your face, knocking you out of your thoughts. Deciding you’ve dwelled enough, you grab your loofah and start washing your body, trying to ignore the ache in between your thighs as you give your legs a cursory wash. And as you continue through your shower, you can hear Bucky’s footsteps on the carpet in your bedroom.

You know that he’s a trained assassin, can sneak up on someone without them hearing anything, but Bucky’s told you he doesn’t want to scare you. He did once when you first got here. He didn’t have any intentions of spooking you, he just wanted to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you while you cooked. But you ended up nearly shrieking and almost spilling the sauce you were making, and Bucky felt so guilty that he didn’t touch you for two days until you convinced him that you weren’t scared of him, you were just surprised because you didn’t hear him coming. So now Bucky always makes sure to walk a little heavier to alert you of his presence.

“Angel?” His voice echoes through the bathroom as he enters, the door opening wider and allowing you to see Bucky’s hazy form from behind the glass shower door. “Are you okay?” Fuck, you’ve probably been in here too long if he’s already done with breakfast.

“Yes,” You say as you turn off the water. Upon stepping out of the shower, Bucky is there to wrap a towel around your shoulders to start drying you off. “Sorry, the hot water just felt nice.”

Bucky chuckles as he rubs the towel over your body, smiling at you the way he always does – that he can never really believe that you’re real.

“It’s okay, angel,” He says as he puts the towel in the hamper and turns to grab one of his shirts that he loves seeing you wear. “But I’m sure my excellent cooking will be enough reason to get out.” At that, he laughs again, and you do too, because his cooking isn’t all that great. He’s gotten much better over the last year, but it could still be better.

“It always is.”

“You’re lying and I know it.” Bucky laughs again and squints his eyes at you, giving you a teasing glare after he pulls the shirt over your head. And it makes you feel at least a little better knowing that he’s self-aware enough to know that.

“Okay, so maybe it isn’t the best food I’ve ever eaten,” You concede, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders to steady yourself as he dresses you in underwear and shorts. “But I’ll still eat anything you make because you made it.” And it kind of hurts to admit, but your sentiment isn’t a total lie. Bucky may be disturbed, but he truly puts all of his love into everything he does, and you can’t deny that he puts so much effort into making you comfortable.

Bucky’s still squatting when you say that, and he lets his hands rest on your hips while he looks up at you with nothing less than absolute adoration.

“And because you love me?” He asks, hopefully. He loves it when you say it, you’re pretty sure it’s his favorite three words he’s ever heard.

Combing your fingers through his hair, you scratch at his scalp a little and force your voice not to waver as you say, “And because I love you.”

The rest of the day goes by as it usually does; Bucky feeds you breakfast with you perched on his lap, giving you kisses in between bites and sighing wistfully every so often. Afterward, you make your way to the library and sit on the bench seat by the window, reading one of the many classics that fill the room for a couple of hours while Bucky goes out to run errands.

Although, if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not really reading. Your eyes are skimming over the words but you’re not processing any of them. No, your mind is still focused on this morning and how real the dream felt, how a part of you that you try to ignore wants it to be real. You try to chalk it up to the fact that you haven’t been intimate with anyone in so long, but the fact that it’s Bucky you’re dreaming about makes you think that it might just be him that you want.

No. Stop it. He kidnapped you. You don’t want him.

As you’re about to give up on reading, you hear the door creak open wider. Looking up, you see Bucky standing in the doorway, shuffling nervously and fiddling with his fingers.

“Is everything okay, Bucky?” You close the book and set it aside, your eyebrows furrowing with worry as you walk towards him.

“I…” He trails off, briefly biting his lip before smiling wide, like a kid on Halloween that filled up his candy bag. “Just come with me.”

Bucky reaches out his hand, and you place yours in his. You’re confused, but go with him anyway. He leads you down the hallway to the spare room – you’re not sure why he included it when he built the cabin, but you’ve never asked why. When you get there, Bucky is practically vibrating with nervous excitement. He smiles at you one more time before opening the door and revealing the interior. And it’s full of cat trees and toys, and you’re momentarily confused as to why he has these before you spot a ball of white fur curled up on a mini hammock.

Immediately, you recognize it as a cat, clearly a baby considering how small it is. Bucky tugs you further into the room towards where the kitten is sleeping, stopping right in front of the hammock and moving behind you so he can wrap his arms around your waist.

“I found her a couple of days ago,” Bucky starts, and you can feel him smiling into your neck. “She was all the way out in the back of the property, shivering and dirty. She’s just so small and I knew I had to take her in before anything happened to her. I brought all the toys and cat trees in just now when you were in the library so you wouldn’t see it. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

And oh what a surprise it is. The kitten must hear Bucky talking because her eyes slowly blink open before landing on you, meowing softly and shifting in the hammock so she can lean her paws on the side and lift up in what you’re assuming is an attempt to get pets. You’re helpless but to pick her up and cuddle her close to your chest, your heart warming with affection when she nuzzles into you.

“What’s her name?” Your voice is soft because you don’t want to disturb her, and she meows again, almost like she’s thanking you for the consideration.

“I haven’t named her yet. I wanted you to.”

It takes no time at all for you to answer.

“Alpine.”

“Alpine?” Bucky sounds curious, and he kisses your temple as he moves to gently scratch behind her ears. “Why that name?”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly. “She just looks like an Alpine.”

Bucky laughs from behind you, kissing your temple once more and nodding.

“Alpine it is.”

A few days later, you’re in Alpine’s dedicated room playing with her. She’s allowed to free roam throughout the house, but she prefers being in here – or, really, anywhere you are. She’s taken a liking to you, and you to her. She’s almost like a friend to you, someone you can turn to when you get too sad because you know she won’t judge you, she’ll give you kisses and cuddles and make you feel better within minutes. You’re currently lying on your stomach, giving Alpine head scratches and laughing softly when she nibbles at your fingers affectionately. 

“What should I do, hm?” Your question is rhetorical, you know she can’t understand you, let alone respond. Still, you like talking to her as though she can. “These… dreams are getting worse. Well, not worse per se, just – more intense. And I don’t know what to do about them. He’s never pressured me into anything, even though I’m fairly certain he does want… that.”

Sighing, you roll over onto your back, letting Alpine crawl onto your stomach and make her way up to your chest so her nose is nearly pressed against yours. And when she meows, you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t know if I want to tell him about them though. I mean, am I even ready? I’ve been here for so long and I know I’m not leaving, and he says he loves me, so I’m pretty sure he won’t make me do anything I don’t want even if I do tell him.” Pausing, you sigh, holding Alpine close to your chest while you sit up.

“What do you think, Alp? Should I tell him?” She immediately meows and lifts up to give your chin a little lick, and you smile at her. “Okay, okay.”

It takes a moment to gather yourself, letting the truth sink in.

“I’ll tell him.”

Despite not having access to any calendars, you’re pretty sure today is your anniversary. Bucky, once again, let you sleep in a little bit longer, staying in bed with you and holding you close while you traded kisses. He cooked up a huge breakfast and placed a big bouquet of roses on your nightstand, even going so far as to massage your feet and calves while you ate. Part of you doesn’t want to ask, because then it would be real. Not only have you been here for a full year, but you’ve been missing for longer than that, and that truth still hurts.

Still, you take everything he does for you gracefully, thanking him for being so thoughtful and trying not believe yourself when you tell him that you’ve never been treated so lovingly. Well, it’s kind of true, despite the fact that you didn’t come here willingly. He really does treat you with care, and his consideration of your feelings – other than the negative ones towards him – is something you haven’t experienced before.

It’s around mid-day when Bucky gives you your first gift. Well, it’s technically a joint gift for you and Alpine – an oversized hoodie with a pouch in front big enough for the kitty to snuggle in so you can carry her around the house with you without actually using your hands. It’s actually extremely thoughtful, and you can’t help but laugh when you notice that the hood has little cat ears on them.

“Thank you, Bucky,” You say after he helps you put it on, smiling wide when he picks up Alpine and helps put her inside the pocket.

“Of course, angel,” He says, also smiling. Then, he grabs his phone, pointing it at you. “Now, let me get a picture of my girls.”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting up further and making sure Alpine’s head is poking out. Last minute, you flip up your hood, making sure the ears are visible and chuckling when you hear the rapid click of the camera as Bucky takes multiple photos. After he’s done, he pockets his phone again, coming to sit next to you on the couch and wrap one arm around you while he pets Alpine’s head with his other hand.

Everything is quiet for a little bit, both of you loving on your cat. When she starts trying to get out, presumably ready to play, Bucky helps her out of the pocket, then helps you out of the hoodie.

“Bucky?” You’re not sure why, but now feels like the right time to ask. Even though your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Yes, baby?”

“Um…” Sighing, you look down at your hands as you fiddle with your fingers. “I was wondering, um…”

“What’s wrong?” Bucky shifts so he’s facing you, using one hand to lift your chin so you can look at him.

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” Your question comes out so fast that you’re unsure if Bucky actually understood you, but you don’t want to repeat yourself so you just hold your breath as you await his answer.

“What do you mean” He genuinely sounds confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, I just assumed that I was here to… please you. I know you love me, so I guess I’m just confused as to why you haven’t tried to do anything.” You try to breathe evenly, even though your heart is beating so fast in anxiety that you feel like you might pass out. You don’t want to upset him, so you’re hoping he doesn’t take offense to your comment.

Bucky doesn’t answer for a couple of minutes, he just sighs and dips his head low, like he’s thinking over his words carefully. But when he does speak, it surprises you.

“Because you’re not ready. You’re right when you say that I love you, which means I’m going to respect your boundaries. I don’t want to force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

Tears want to spring to your eyes, because at that moment you know you’re rightfully fucked. He’s just too perfect that you can’t wrap your head around this conversation. You’d never thought of it like that, that he’d want to make sure you’re comfortable with him before taking that next step. And now you know that you want to, you want to give yourself to him in that way. And, now it’s your turn to lift his head to look at you, then lace your fingers with his.

“And… what if I am ready?”

Immediately, Bucky’s eyes widen, and you think you can see a little bit of hope in his eyes. Despite your earlier nerves, you can feel in your soul that you are ready to take the leap, and you can’t help but give him a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He asks, squeezing your hand in a loving gesture. “I don’t want you to do something just because you think I’m expecting it.”

“I know you’re not expecting anything,” You say, briefly biting your lip. “And I want to, I promise.”

Bucky sighs, then leans forward to press his lips to yours. It’s not an intense kiss, it’s a reassuring one, a kiss that lets you know he wants this too. You pull apart when your stomach starts rumbling, and you’re reminded that you haven’t eaten since this morning.

“Come on, baby, let’s make lunch.”

You’re slightly on edge for the rest of the day, awaiting the moment. Bucky hasn’t made a move yet, so you’re assuming it’s going to happen before you go to bed, and even though you’re nervous, you can’t deny that most of those nerves are from excitement.

And when the clock strikes seven, Bucky leads you out of Alpine’s room and to yours, smiling at you the entire time. Typically, Bucky likes you to be in bed by eight-thirty, but you’re assuming you’re going to be up a little later tonight which is why he wants to start early. As soon as he closes the bedroom door, you can feel your heart beat increasing, and Bucky comes up in front of you to cup your face in his hands.

“Are you positive you want this?” His eyes scan your face, looking for a hint of doubt. He finds none, because you aren’t doubting this. You’re sure you’re not going to regret this.

“I promise, Bucky.” The assuring comment comes out breathy, and your eyes travel down to his lips before looking back up into his. “I’m ready.”

Bucky hums, nodding a little before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. It slowly becomes more intense, your lips gliding against each other as your tongues start invading each others mouths. You don’t even notice when his hands land on your hips until they sneak up your shirt, causing you to squeak.

“Angel,” Bucky breathes out, removing his mouth from yours to glide down to your neck where he presses more insistent kisses, even nibbling on the skin until you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He slides his hands up to your waist, going up, up, and up until you’re prompted to lift your arms over your head so he can take off your shirt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” He growls as his eyes scan your torso, causing you to whimper and hold onto his shoulders while you press your body closer to his.

“Bucky, please.” You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but Bucky seems to know exactly what you need.

In response to your begging, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal-style to the bed until he lays you down in the middle of it. When he pulls back, he props himself up on his left forearm so he can place his flesh hand on your sternum. Dragging his hand down to your shorts, he toys with the ties, then looks up at you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Yes,” You say when you realize he’s waiting for permission. “Please take them off, Bucky.”

He groans again, dipping his head low for a minute before undoing the ties and shifting up onto his knees so he can use both of his hands to drag your shorts down your legs. Now you’re left in just your bra and underwear, and you’re tempted to cover your body. He’s seen you naked hundreds of times, but this feels different, and you’re sure it’s because of the more intimate setting.

“Don’t,” He says adamantly, not being mean but letting you know there’s no room for discussion. “Don’t hide your body from me, angel. You’re perfect.”

Tears want to spring to your eyes, and you forget all about why you were so nervous in the first place, you don’t even know why you’ve resisted his love all this time.

“Thank you, baby,” You whimper, bringing up your hand to wipe at your eyes to get rid of the tears. “I… I love you.” And, this time, you know you mean it. You mean it with everything you have.

“I love you too. So fucking much.” Bucky smiles at you, his eyes also watery. He dips down again to kiss you, shuddering when you tug at his shirt. He moves slowly, kissing you for a few long moments until he huffs out a laugh at your insistent tugging at his shirt. “Okay, okay.”

Lifting up onto his knees, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, smiling wider when he catches you practically drooling over his exposed chest. But then he freezes up, briefly glancing at his left shoulder. And, you realize now that this new intimate setting is probably getting to him too, and you know you need to get rid of those awful thoughts he has about himself.

“Buck,” You say softly, sitting up and placing your hands on his chest. Your right hand travels to his shoulder where his flesh meets metal, and you trace the scars delicately with the tips of your fingers. “Please don’t be ashamed of them. You may not like it, but the scars don’t matter to me. They’re a part of you, and I love all of you.” You can see the tears in Bucky’s eyes as you speak, his bottom lip wobbling a little as he tries not to cry.

“Are you -” Bucky stops himself, sniffles and clears his throat, then continues. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve seen it before but…”

“But nothing.” Your voice isn’t harsh, but you let him know you don’t want him to argue. “I said I love you, all of you. Don’t you believe me?”

“Of course I do!” Bucky says hurriedly, placing both of his hands over yours and squeezing them close to his chest. “I-I know you do. I love you too.” He sighs, bringing up one of your hands to kiss your knuckles. Then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed, not breaking eye contact as he shuffles off the bed so he can take off his sweats and boxers.

When they’re finally off, Bucky crawls back onto the bed, stopping at your hips so he can toy with the band of your panties. You nod at him when he looks to you for consent, and he keeps looking at you as he drags them down your legs, only breaking your gaze so he can focus on maneuvering your feet out of them. It seems like he wants to get going, but then his eyes travel to your bra-covered chest and he switches gears. Knowing what he wants, you arch your back so he can undo the hook and then you lay back down so he can throw it off to the side.

And now, you’re both naked, Bucky hovering over you and looking at you through teary eyes. He places his flesh hand on your stomach, trailing his fingers up to your breast so he can tweak one of your nipples.

“Bucky, please.”

“Don’t worry, angel,” Bucky says softly, dipping down to kiss your lips before kissing down your neck and collarbone, then stopping at your other breast so he can nibble on it. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you,” He whispers into your skin.

“I know.” His eyes flick up to yours at the confirmation, and he smirks a little to himself as he bites down on your nipple, causing you to whimper. 

Despite your wiggling, he takes his time kissing over your chest, going down your stomach until he has to slide down the bed so he can come face-to-face with your pussy. You spread your legs of your own volition, and Bucky groans in appreciation, nuzzling his nose into your lower lips and breathing deeply.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” He nearly growls, shifting so he’s laying between your legs and placing his flesh hand on your thigh to keep you spread and using his metal hand to pull your other leg over his shoulder. “Is all this for me?” He asks, referring to the slick dripping out of your pussy.

“Yes, all for you.” You reach your hand down and card your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look up at you. “Only for you.”

Bucky swallows down his emotions, nodding at you one last time before diving in. He takes one more deep breath, nudging his nose along your folds, then using his flesh hand to spread them apart. You gasp when he drags his tongue from your quivering hole to your throbbing clit, and you’re hit with the overwhelming knowledge that you won’t last long. You haven’t been intimate with anyone – let alone had time for yourself – in so long, and Bucky seems to realize this when he pulls back just enough to mumble, “Cum whenever you need, baby. Give it to me.” 

He continues, dipping his tongue into your soaking hole, thrusting it in and out a few times before going up to nibble and suck on your clit. You don’t even realize that you’re now a blubbering mess, whining and moaning and squirming in Bucky’s hold as you feel your release build. And, you’d be embarrassed with how fast you’re about to cum considering how not-long you’ve been at this if not for Bucky’s groans of appreciation. You’re unconsciously tugging at his hair too, pulling him closer, but then your hand tightens when he suddenly prods his forefinger at your hole.

Immediately, you tense up a little, because, despite how wet you are, you’re still really tight. And Bucky’s fingers are big, so it takes a bit of shushing and sweet kisses to your thighs for you to relax enough for him to fit his finger in, but only just until the second knuckle. He pauses, letting you adjust to the intrusion, which you’re grateful for. He wiggles it a little, sucking and kissing your clit until you relax enough for him to push his finger in all the way, then pull it out so he can push it in again.

He keeps at the tortuously slow pace, carefully opening you up until he can fit a second finger in your pussy. Your breaths are coming out faster, you’re almost panting at this point as he speeds up until he’s truly fingering you, really giving you what you need. And right when you feel like you’re about to explode with pleasure, Bucky wraps his lips around your clit, bites down softly, and then sucks as shoves in a third finger and stabs at that special spot deep within you.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck, yes!” Bucky will gloat later about how loud he made you scream just from his fingers and mouth, how you squirted all over his forearm and chin. He’d also admit that he nearly blew his own load at your taste, but he wanted to save his release for you.

It takes a few long moments to come down from your high, and when you do, you see Bucky up on his knees looking down at you while fisting his cock.

“Are you sure you want this? We can stop if it’s too much.” You know Bucky doesn’t want to stop, but you also know he gladly would if you asked him to, which is how you know you want to continue.

“No stopping allowed,” You breathe out, smiling at him a little when he chuckles. “Now, please get inside me or I’ll cry.”

“There’s no need to cry right now, baby,” He says, leaning over you to prop himself up on his right forearm and grab the base of his cock with his metal hand and guide it to your entrance. “But you will be crying by the end of the night.”

You surge up to kiss him, biting his bottom lip and grasping his shoulders to brace yourself. Bucky groans, and you lay back down so you can stare into each other’s eyes as he pushes in slowly. Again, he seems to understand that even though you’ve just cum harder than you can ever remember, you’re still a little tight – especially since he’s easily the biggest man you’ve ever been with.

It takes a couple of minutes until he’s buried fully inside you. You’re whimpering while he’s biting his lip, letting out little groans. Placing his metal hand on your thigh, he spreads you open further, though not too far as to hurt you. Carefully, he pulls back, letting you get used to the movements when he pushes back in.

And it goes like this for a bit, Bucky fucking you slowly until you start wiggling your hips and clutch his shoulders.

“Pl-Please, Bucky. I – Faster.” You know you sound pathetic, but you can’t find it in you to care, mostly because your mind has floated off into space as you soak in the immense pleasure.

Bucky listens to you, taking his time in picking up the pace until you’re sure you’re about to break. He keeps mumbling praises the whole time, telling you how you’re so fucking beautiful and thank you for trusting me and god, I love you so much.

Lifting up your left leg, he places it over his shoulder, and every so often he’ll force his hips flush with the backs of your thighs and grind his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot and causing you to moan loudly. And, he was right, because the longer it goes on the more tears you can feel pooling in your eyes until they start streaming down your face.

“Bu – Bucky,” You can’t help but whine, your breaths coming out uneven as you try to control your emotions.

“It’s okay, angel,” He says, just this side of condescending. His tone sends shivers down your spine, and you have to force your eyes from closing because you want to see Bucky’s face for this. “I know it’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, fuck, you’re – Ah! You’re so big!” You can see through your hazy vision that he’s smirking, though you can tell he’s close to crying too. He’s always been emotionally open, always telling you how he’s feeling and encouraging you to share yours as well. Which is why you’re comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of him.

“Are you close?” He asks, his breathing speeding up as his hips do too. “Fuck, angel. Tell me you’re close.”

“I am!” You’re practically screaming at this point with every powerful thrust he gives you. To an outsider, it may look a little like he’s breaking you apart with his cock, but you know the truth. He’s putting you back together, making you whole in a way you’ve never been before. “Cum with me, please!”

Bucky groans and shudders, gritting his teeth when you dig your nails into his shoulders. Nodding, he adjusts his position so every thrust has his cock stabbing deep within you every time. And you place your hand on the side of his face, making sure he’s looking directly at you when you clench down purposefully, and he shouts at the same time you do, letting go at the same time.

You don’t know what happens after that, all you remember is having the most intense orgasm of your life and then suddenly you’re waking up cuddled into Bucky’s chest, the sky outside now dark as the moon sneaks up into the sky. Wiggling a little, you realize Bucky cleaned you up, but you can still feel the remnants of his cum inside you, and you relish in it.

“Bucky?” You mumble, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just past ten,” He says softly, kissing the top of your head then lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes. “You don’t regret this, do you?” You can tell he’s nervous, that he really wants your answer to be no.

“I don’t.” You lean up to give him a lingering kiss, sighing into each other’s mouths before pulling away just enough to stare into his eyes as you say, “I’ll never regret being with you.”

And, finally, you mean it, because you realize now that this is the love you’ve always wished for. Bucky takes care of you in a way you both know no one else can, and you can only hope he knows that you can take care of him too. You’ll love him deeply, and you’ll give him the life he deserves.

temptation taglist: @mayreblogsstuff / @raging-panda / @wintrsoldrluvr / @myfavbuckyfics / @watchoutforyelener / @lauratang / @esotericgalaxy / @mayusenpai666 / @buckets-and-trees / @fandoms-writings

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait at the door. You’re wearing winter clothes but you don’t mind. The stuff in your closet are the only untouched by berry juice. 

As you watch through the window, Jada scoffs and slurps loudly behind you. 

“What are you doing?” She asks. 

You know what she wants. She wants a reaction. Well, you might be sweating in this turtleneck but it’s not because of her. 

“Waiting.” 

“For?” She snips. 

“My ride.” 

“You have a car.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m saving my gas,” you argue. “Where’s Estelle?” 

“She went home,” she chimes in a taunting tone. Oh yes, she went home after they destroyed your wardrobe. “Those berries were good. Fresh.” 

You sigh and shake your head. A sleek dark green car rolls slowly along the curb and stops, idling as a dark figure leans over in the driver seat. That must be them. 

“Gotta go,” you say as you hook your quilted bag over your shoulder. 

“You are such a spoil sport,” she pouts. You open the door but she catches it before you can close it. She huffs as she sees the car, “oh, I see. Another day of fun with criminals.” 

You slow as a figure emerges from the other side of the car. Loki squints over the roof with obvious disappointment. You give a sheepish wave as you approach. You don’t think he knew to expect you, just as much as you don’t expect him. 

“You’re such a loser,” Jada calls after you. “And you’re gonna get hurt.” 

You ignore her as Loki scowls. He doesn’t say a word as he drops back down into the driver’s seat. You open the passengers’ door, “may I?” 

“Hm, haven’t much of a choice in the matter,” he drones as his fingers tap on the ridge steering wheel. 

“Sorry, I... I could’ve driven but Thor--” 

“Yes, he does demand all things happen upon his whim,” he slithers. “Do use your seat belt and close the door. I should hate to think of his whining should you get hurt upon my watch.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you shut the door and fumble to do up your belt. He pulls out just as you snap it into place. 

“That was a rather pleasant woman,” he remarks as he drives. “What was it she called you?” 

“Ha, that’s just my sister,” you say. “You know, sister things.” 

“I do have one and she’s just as endearing,” he turns lazily with his thumb. 

“She just woke up. She’s grouchy,” you explain and look around the interior of the car, trying to distract yourself from the tension. You can feel how much he doesn’t want to be there. “This is nice.” 

You run your hand over the wood finish of the dashboard. 

“Authentic. Vintage,” he assures you. 

“Oh,” you retract your hand, “I wouldn’t want to... leave fingerprints. Sorry.” 

He grumbles but says nothing. You suppose that’s better than rebuke. You sit back and watch the streets through the window. The silence is strangling. 

You subtly glance over at him. He’s an intimidating figure. Tall, lithe, unreadable like a feline. You want to apologise again, just for the fact he’s been sent on this errand. 

“What?” He says, startling you. 

“What? Uh, what what?” You murmur and turn your head straight. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He asks. 

“I’m not, I just... looking through the windows,” you lie. 

He huffs and rests his hand on the shifter lazily. You turn your face away, stewing in your embarrassment. 

“The forecast is rather positive. You will be overheated,” he girds. 

You look down at the turtleneck with the ruffled collar and sleeves. He’s right. Another shock of heat blazes in your cheek. 

“I thought it was cute,” you shrug. 

He hums again. He clucks his tongue and speeds up. He peers over at you. 

“You’re not a very convincing liar.” 

“I’m not--” 

“I wonder,” he interrupts, “why you would lie about a shirt.” 

“I’m not lying, it is cute.” 

“It’s... not unsightly,” he allows. “But I’m certain you have something more weather appropriate.” 

“Maybe I do but why do you care?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

“Suppose I don’t,” he utters. “I am rather bored by this entire chore and thus I try to distract myself.” 

“Mm, well, I am sorry you have to do this,” you say. 

“Isn’t your fault, isn’t your apology to make,” he rebuffs. 

You frown. There's nothing you can say to him that’s right. You’re used to that and yet he isn’t so vicious as Jada or her friends. He is just blunt. A strangely respectable sort of honest. 

Loki drives up to a grand house. It’s like a fantasy or fairytale. A modern castle. You’ve never been anywhere so fancy. You gape up through the windshield as he rolls through the gates and along the stone drive. Wow. 

“The flies will get in,” he reproaches. 

You snap your mouth shut and sit back. You sniff and twiddle your fingers impatiently. He draws up next to another luxurious vehicle and you undo your belt. You’re out before him. He’s probably just as eager to part ways. 

“Come,” he beckons you as he gets out. 

You obediently follow him. He takes you up the front steps and you stop to admire the stone lion statue. He opens the door and tuts to get you to carry on. 

You enter and let out a ‘woah’ as you take in the spacious entryway. He is unaffected by it all. There’s hardly anything that does impact him deeply. 

“This way,” he utters. 

He takes you through a door and along a hallway. He points you through an open archway and you step inside. It’s a large kitchen that matches the sheer exuberance of the rest of the place. The basket of berries is on the counter as Queenie flutters through the pages of a book. 

“Uh, hi,” you step through as Loki lingers in the hall. “I’m here.” 

“Oh, hello,” she looks up with a smile, “I was just looking for a recipe—where are your berries?” 

You make a face. “You know, I forgot them.” 

She tilts her head in disappointment, “that’s okay. More than enough here.” 

“Sorry, I... rushed out. Must’ve left them right there in the fridge.” Your voice piques but she just goes back to turning pages. 

You near her and turn to face the counter. As you do, your eyes flick back to the door. Loki watches you through it, eyes narrowed, cheeks pinched with skepticism. He bows his chin. 

“I will let my brother know all is in order,” he turns on his heel and struts off. 

“What do you think?” Queenie asks, unbothered by the man’s departure, “tarts or trifle?” 

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

2. with you all night

contains: 18+ content mdni! nsfw at all lol smut and a bit of fluff towards the end!

summary: your night gets much more interesting when you decide to go back to your ex’s apartment.

a/n: this starts exactly where the last part ended!

part one: pushing it down and praying

reentering the main room, you quickly find matthew still talking with his friends, completely oblivious. you force a smile and touch his arm lightly, “hey, i really don’t feel good— think i’m gonna head home and go to bed.”

his brows furrow, believing your act. “did you want me to give you a ride home?”

“no, no! i’ll just get an uber! i don’t want to take you away from your friends.” you give him a reassuring smile.

he nods, “alright, well text me when you get home.” he says before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

with that, you make your way through the crowd once again. your heart racing as you grow closer to the front door.

you worry that hamzah has already left as you finally open the door. but there he was, leaning against a wall with his hands shoved in his pockets.

it was much darker outside, the empty street only illuminated by a few warm toned street lights.

“figured you’d ditch me.” he says, his tone teasing.

“thought about it.” you reply, smirking as you begin walking down the sidewalk.

he quickly falls into step beside you, so close that you can feel your hands brush every so often.

the tension crackles between the two of you, the quiet night air only heightening it.

“so, does ‘new guy’ know you’ve got terrible taste in music?” hamzah teases, tilting his head to the side, glancing over at you.

you roll your eyes, “he doesn’t have terrible taste- he actually listens to my playlists without skipping every other song”, you shoot back, unable to hide the grin on your face.

“ouch!” he presses a hand to his chest dramatically, “hey! i let you play your music in my car. that’s love, you know.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “yeah, well that is because you wouldn’t know good music if it hit you in the face.”

he chuckles, leaning in a little closer, “i knew a good thing when i saw it,” he says softly, allowing his words to linger in the crisp night air.

you roll your eyes, scoffing. ��that line might work on your other hook-ups, but i know you too well for that.”

he grins, lifting his hands in a pretend surrender.

“alright, alright. so maybe i am laying it on thick. but you can’t blame me— you show up looking like that and expect me to just…behave?”

“mm maybe that was my plan all along, to see if you’ve learned to control yourself.”

he laughs lowly, shaking his head to himself. “you’re dangerous, you know that?”

“dangerous?”, you chuckle. “that’s rich coming from you.”

you’re almost at his building now, and the banter has done absolutely nothing to kill the tension between you. once you reach his door, he turns to you, eyes flickering over your face.

“you’ve still got time to change your mind.” he whispers, his tone sounding almost daring.

you sigh, “actually, i’m just here because i wanted to see if you’re apartment is still as messy as i remember.”

he chuckles as he unlocks the door, “guess you gotta come in then.”

as you walk inside, your heart is racing. after you hear the door click shut behind you, you feel his hands pull at your waist, turning you around so you’re face-to-face. he walks you backwards until your back meets the cold surface of the front door.

“seriously, y/n, you’re sure about this?” he questions, his dark eyes staring into yours.

all of your doubts has melted away with the warmth of his touch. you wanted him bad. you were sure about that.

“i’m a hundred-percent sure, hamzah.”

in half a second, his lips are connecting with yours. kissing you with an urgency that sent shivers down your body. his hands settle to your hips, pressing your body against the door as he quickly deepens the kiss, almost as if he was making up for lost time.

the familiarity of his warmth, his scent, the pressure of his body against yours— it’s all so undeniably comfortable and intoxicating. you felt like a missing piece of yourself was put back in place.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. his lips place slow kisses along your jaw to your neck as his hands steadily hold you in place.

you close your eyes, allowing yourself to indulge in the sensation.

he pulls away, resting his forehead to yours. “i don’t want to mess this up.” he says breathlessly.

you cradle his face between your hands, “then don’t.” you smile.

that’s all he needs to hear before he presses a quick kiss to your lips and slipping his hand into yours, leading you down the familiar hallway to bedroom.

he glances back at you every so often, making sure that you were real behind him— that this was all really happening.

as you reach his bedroom, the dim light of the hallway spills in. the air of the dark room is thick with anticipation.

he closes the door softly behind you. his gaze then meets yours- his eyes are filled with a certain longing, a certain hunger.

he walks towards you, his hands landing on your hips as he pulls you into another kiss. it’s heated. sloppy. urgent. his fingers press into the skin of your hips as if he simply can’t get enough of you.

he lifts you effortlessly by the hips, causing you to instinctively wrap your legs around him as he carries you to his bed.

he sits at the edge of the bed, holding you down in his lap. his lips crash into yours, his hands slipping under your shirt, wondering aimlessly upon your skin.

you pull away from the kiss and tug at the hem of his t-shirt. hamzah assists you in pulling it off and once it is off, you waste no time running your hands along his biceps, forearms, shoulders, peppering kisses along his jaw.

his head tilts back, “god, i’ve missed you.” he mutters breathlessly.

you lift your head, looking into his eyes, “you never stopped thinking about me, huh?” you tease.

“not for a fucking second.” he replies, a devilish smile plastered on his face as he begins pulling your shirt off of you.

he disregards your shirt, throwing it to the floor.

“lie down for me.” he demands, his voice soft. “wanna see all of you.”

you climb off of his lap, lying down in the middle of his bed. he promptly pulls your skirt down your legs, your underwear coming down with it. you feel vulnerable as you lie completely naked with him watching over you.

however your insecurities dissipate as he whispers, “you’re killing me, y/n. you’re so fucking beautiful and you don’t even know it.”

he gets rid of his jeans, his erection more prominent through just his boxers. he sits down beside you, back flat against his headboard. “c’mere”, he says, motioning you to his lap once again.

the second you straddle him, his mouth finds your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. his fingers splay against your back as you shamelessly rock your hips against his covered erection.

“lift up real quick”, he says patting one of your hips as he gives you the instructions.

you do as he says, going onto your knees.

he leaves a quick kiss to your ribcage before smoothly moving down the mattress, not stopping until his head was perfectly positioned between your thighs.

“sit, baby.” he says. as his hands go to your hips, guiding you to his face. you let out a sharp gasp as your heat reaches his mouth- his tongue instantly working against you.

“fuck, hamzah.” you cry out, your hands flying to the headboard in front of you, desperate to grip onto something.

he hums against you, continuing to eat you out in a way that left you seeing stars. he was absolutely starved for you. prideful, satisfied groans leaving the back of his throat each time you whimpered or moaned incoherent words.

his tongue pushes in and out of you, drags across your folds and circles your clit before sucking on the bundle of nerves.

you let out a loud cry as your pleasure reaches its peak. the orgasm especially intense as you hadn’t had one in a while- matthew’s focus was always on his own pleasure rather than yours.

hamzah’s fingers trace your lower back as you catch your breath. after a moment, he helps you lie back down on the bed beside him.

he hovers over you, “you need a second?”

you shake your head as you smirk, reaching your arms upward and linking your fingers at the nape of his neck. “nope, want you right now.”

he smiles excitedly. “arms above your head.”

you listen to him and watch as he reaches to his nightstand, grabbing his belt that laid on top of it.

“you trust me?” he questions. you nod eagerly.

“use your words, baby. are you okay with this?”

“yes, i want it hamzah.” you reply.

he took your wrists in one of his hands and brought them to the metal bar of his headboard. you felt your heart beat faster as he finished looping your wrists to the bar, restricting your movement.

he bends down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. then he starts kissing down your jaw, to your neck, your collarbone, between your breasts. you’re almost certain he’s leaving marks as he goes but it feels way too good for you to care.

he gets up for a second, removing his boxers. you bite your lower lip at the sight of his hard erection.

he climbs back over you, positioning one arm on the side of you while he stroke himself with the other.

he begins slowly running his cock up and down through your folds, a feeling that leaves you whimpering and arching your back.

“you’re such a tease.” you whine, causing him to give you a cocky grin as he pushes his erection inside of you.

you moan at the stretch of him inside of you, a pleasurable pain.

a load groan leaves his throat as soon as he’s fully inside of you, his head tilting back and his eyes shutting at the feeling of your warmth around him.

“fuck, you feel so good.” he says, slowly thrusting in and out of you.

all you can do is nod in agreement as your chest rises and falls rapidly, overwhelmed with pleasure.

as he increases his pace, he reaches under your right leg- throwing it over his shoulder so he can push even deeper inside.

your body is completely at his mercy and it turns you on more than you could ever imagine.

your lips part open in pleasure, a moan of his name escaping them every so often. his thrusts get rougher, leaving you feel as if you were literally floating.

gradually, you feel orgasm build once again, feeling even more intense than the last.

“i’m so close, hamzah.” you cry.

“i know, baby, let it all out.” he replies, keeping up his quick pace.

as you hit your peak, you arch your back more than you thought possible, making up for the lack of being able to grip onto anything with your hands. you whimper his name, repeating it as if it was a fucking prayer.

hamzah reaches his high with you, groaning loudly as you feel his warm release inside of you. the feeling was absolutely euphoric. how did you ever last that long without him?

after he pulls out of you, he reaches to the headboard- releasing your wrists from the restraint. then he plops down next to you on the bed, the both of you lying on your backs trying to catch your breaths after your highs.

after a few seconds, you break the silence.

“holy shit, hamzah.” you exclaim, still out of breath from the intensity of your orgasm.

he chuckles, “you gonna admit that you missed me now?” he teases.

“you’re an idiot.” you laugh.

“of course i missed you.” you continue, turning your head towards him.

he grins, putting his arm around you and kissing your temple.

you two lay there for a few minutes, soaking in the silence of the night, feeling comfortable in the dim lighting of his bedroom.

you reach for your phone on the ground, picking it up to check the time. 1:26 am.

“fuck- it’s late. i guess i should go.” you say, shimmying out of his hold and putting your underwear back on.

“just stay the night— i mean, if you want to. you can use my shower and borrow some clothes.” he suggests, seeming a bit nervous.

you consider it, thinking about how the longer you stay, the more painful it’s gonna feel when it’s all over.

but you are tired. and getting an uber at this time would be difficult so it made the most sense to stay, right?

if you were being honest with yourself, you really just wanted to stay a little longer in the place you felt was your second home for so long.

“you sure? i don’t to want to intrude.” you look at him.

“you’re not intruding at all, y/n.” he responds quietly.

he throws on his boxers and leads you to the bathroom, grabbing you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers on the way.

he turns on the water for you as soon as the two of you enter the bathroom, letting the water warm up. he leaves the folded up clothes on the counter and pulls out a spare toothbrush from under his bathroom sink.

“alright- there’s a new toothbrush and all my skincare stuff is still in this drawer if you want to use it any of it, uh- need anything else?” he says, turning back around to you.

“no, this is good, thank you.” you smile softly.

he goes to leave, and then you stop him.

“hamzah, wait.” as nervous you are to ask, you simply crave more of his presence. “will you stay and shower with me?” you question, your voice quiet.

he nods. without a word he walks towards you, helping you take off you underwear. his touch soft and gentle.

after removing his boxers, he guides you into the shower. the two of you engulfed in the steam of the shower, facing one another.

you wash each other’s hair, a constant stream of smiles and giggles coming from both of you. there was such a sweet innocence to the moment. you felt as if you were in your own little world, just you and hamzah.

you completely let yourself forget that you were ex’s, that you were dating matthew, that this was gonna completely change things moving forward.

you just let yourself enjoy what was happening.

you two complete your night routines together. cracking jokes as you bump elbows in the small bathroom.

after, you curl up in his bed. the familiar scent of his sheets and the warmth of hamzah’s body next to you bringing you immense comfort as you drift off into sleep.

…

you wake up to the soft morning light filtering through sheer curtains. looking to your side, you find blue curled up next to you. at the end of the bed, red lies sprawled out with his belly up.

“you two haven’t changed at all.” you laugh, reaching down to pet red.

at that moment, hamzah walks into the room carrying a tray with two coffees and a brown paper bag.

“hey sleepy girl. the cats already fighting over you?”

you laugh at his question, “they missed me.” you smile as blue crawls into your lap.

he hands you a coffee and pulls out a bagel from the paper bag.

“iced vanilla latte with oat milk. extra ice. everything bagel. extra cream cheese.” he recites proudly, waiting for your reaction.

“show off.” you tease, taking a bite of the bagel before thanking him.

you two sit on the bed, eating your bagels while playing with the cuddly kittens next to you.

you feel as if the two of you have slipped right back into routine, as if no time had ever passed at all.

but the truth was time had passed. and you two had ended things for a reason. and now, things were about to get even more complicated.

a/n: i never know when to stop lol hope u guys enjoyed it!!!!! k bye muah

[ashasdiary]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader Synopsis: Geto finds out you’re being harassed at work. CW: harassment, established relationship, protective!geto, angry!geto, Geto beats him up, a little angst, fluff, brief suggestiveness WC: 1.9k A/N: no one look at me I’m trying to cope 😵‍💫

It started very innocently. Just small chats here and there, in the work kitchen, passing by through the hallways, in the elevators. Then the chats became a bit longer. You initially thought your coworker Daniel was just being attentive, asking about you, showing genuine interest in what you had to say. To be sometimes expected from a work colleague. 

But you realised his intentions early on. So you made it a point each time he asked your plans to mention your boyfriend, Geto, just to make sure he was aware that you were not interested. 

That didn’t stop him. 

Every time he passed by your desk, he’d pat your shoulder and mouth a small ‘hi’. Initially, it wasn’t concerning, because it was minor, just him saying hi in greeting. But the more time passed, the longer his touches on your shoulder, and the more agitated you got. 

He’d join you, uninvited, while you had your lunch. Offering him a polite smile, you wouldn’t say anything as he’d sit near to you in the work kitchen. 

“Whatcha got?” He asked once. 

“Just a sandwich,” you reply, mouth full, not caring about manners in that moment. Because he had eyes. Why ask stupid questions? 

“Oh, nice. Healthy,” he nods, opening up his food container, “You always have healthy stuff.”

You blink a few times, thinking what the hell, keeping tabs on my lunch? He begins to eat and you hum, kind of dismissively, “Yeah.”

You continue to eat your sandwich in silence, looking at your phone, hoping he’ll leave you in peace. Ha! Why would he? 

“What did you get up to on the weekend?” He asks and you glance up at him, giving a tight lipped smile. 

“Had a day out with my boyfriend, we did a hike and then saw a new movie…not much else,” you say. 

“Ah, hikes are great. I hope it was a good movie. It’s nice having a companion, but I’m so particular about who I keep around…it’s why I can’t find anyone decent,” he responds, and you chew on your lip, feeling a bit unnerved by the trajectory of the conversation. 

His phone rings then, and you thank the stars for the interruption. You stand up then as he takes it and you say something about your lunch break finishing before you dash out of there. 

Geto had noticed you’d been a bit down recently, but he didn’t want to push you to talk about it because he knew that there wasn’t always a reason for being down. Moods fluctuate, something he could personally understand completely. Instead, he ups his affection to you, making sure you feel loved, and seen, and safe. Which you always do. 

That week, it continued. 

Fucking hell, was he persistent. More touches; the shoulder taps had become shoulder squeezes. More questions. More attention.

At the very least you were thankful you weren’t working in the same team or even in the same department. But still, it was starting to affect you. You’d feel anxious as it approached the time that he’d come into work. You’d feel anxious when you heard his footsteps. 

Your coworker who sat beside you noticed it too. “He’s so weird…what’s his problem?” She comments, then her voice softens when she looks at you being tense, “hey…you okay?”

“Not really…” you whisper to her, voice wavering. 

She looks concerned, “Tell HR. I’ve seen what he’s been doing, every day, it’s creepy.”

“But I don’t want to cause trouble,” you find yourself saying, and you trail off as you hear yourself. It sounds ridiculous and you know it. 

Your colleague says your name, “Come on. It’s not. Do not sacrifice your comfort. Go tell them…or do you want me to?” She asks. 

Deliberating for a moment, you then shake your head and inhale deeply, “I will.”

After having a conversation with HR, it all happens very fast. Within 3 hours, Daniel is being escorted out of the building having been fired. 

You feel sick to your stomach, because you hadn’t wanted to cause such a drastic consequence. But as the day goes on, you are reassured that it was a completely justified decision. 

It’s when you’re on the way home that you get a text from an unknown number, angrily asking what he’d done to deserve that and that you should watch your back. 

When you go home to Geto that day, you walk through the door and burst into tears, all of your built up emotions being let out. He’s quick to envelope you in his arms tightly and hold you against the warmth of his chest. 

“Hey, sweetheart…shh…I’ve got you, it’s okay…come sit down,” he says to you, in a soft, hushed voice as he guides you to the couch. You sit on his lap, face buried in his neck as you sniffle, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“Tell me what’s going on, honey,” he prompts, rubbing your back in soothing circles, “talk to me.”

So you tell him everything. Every instance, every encounter, every inappropriate conversation. And then the text. You notice that as you’d been explaining, he’d stiffened, his gaze had turned ice cold. 

He utters your name, gently pushing your hair behind your ear as you look at him, “You should have told me the minute this began…” he sighs softly, “Maybe take some time off work. And if you don’t want to do that, I’m going to take you to and from there. Okay? Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise.” 

The conviction in his tone is a safety blanket to you and you bury yourself against him, whispering a thank you and an I love you. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. You’re safe, always,” he kisses your hair and holds you for the rest of the evening. 

You’d debated taking time off, but you knew that would only postpone your fear. So you go to work as usual, but with the safety of Geto’s company. 

He had suggested driving you to and from, but you knew the traffic in the city was awful which would be quite long. So he commutes with you. Four trips he makes each day, just to ensure that you are safe. 

His presence alone was enough but knowing that he’d never let anything happen to you, that he was there only to protect you, makes you feel very much at ease. 

You’re pressed up against each other on the train a couple of weeks later and he grins at you, snaking his arm around your waist. “Up close and personal, huh,” you murmur to him. 

“Not close enough,” he teases you with a wink and you flick his chin with a laugh. 

“Sugu, you might as well just come and work at the same company with all these trips you’re making,” you say as you walk hand in hand from the station to your work building. 

He chuckles, “While that would be fun, working in the same place as you, I think that they might end up firing me too for inappropriate touching,” he jokes and you laugh at this. 

He smiles to himself at the sound of your laugh, happy to see that you’re not feeling so anxious or sensitive anymore and can laugh at jokes about it.

“You’d always want to get me alone,” you tease.

“Oh, yeah. Every chance I get,” he squeezes your hand as you approach the building. 

You head inside together and you let go of his hand, readying your keycard to swipe through the security gate several meters away, and you’re about to bid each other goodbye when you stop in your tracks. Geto looks to you in question and he follows your gaze to where Daniel is stood outside the security gate, waiting. 

He didn’t know what Daniel looked like of course, but he is quick to put two and two together. At the same time, Daniel sees you. You tremble slightly as you see the look on his face as he storms over, somehow not making note of the giant 6’3 man stood beside you. 

Geto quickly approaches, and he grabs Daniel by the collar, lifting him easily off the floor. “You have some nerve coming here again…I ought to teach you a fucking lesson,” Geto seethes. 

Daniel is completely taken aback, turning into a spluttering mess as he grabs onto Geto’s arm that was holding him up, “I— I didn’t do anything! I don’t even know you! Put me down!”

Geto’s brows furrowed deeply, his blood boiling, “You sly piece of shit, you deserve what’s coming,” Geto says through clenched teeth, and throws Daniel across the shiny floor. He slides a few yards before coming to a stop. He curls into a ball as Geto angrily approaches him, crouching down and pulling his head back by his hair. 

“You think this is funny? Showing up to your old workplace just to harass someone again?” Geto raises his voice. 

“N-no, I didn’t—” Daniel quivers, but Geto’s not hearing it. 

“Like hell you didn’t,” Geto bites back, then performs a jujutsu technique that has the man being catapulted against the wall so forcefully that it cracks.  

Daniel is knocked out cold. You cover your mouth in shock before you rush over to Geto’s side and hold onto his arm, “Sugu…”

At the same time, security guards rush over to both Geto and Daniel and police had been called as well. The security guard recognises you but says to Geto, “Sir, police have been called. We ask for your cooperation.”

“You don’t want me to leave the premises?” Geto asks coolly, swiping some sweat off his cheek with his thumb. 

“No, sir,” the security guard gestures for Geto to follow him and waits for him to do so. 

You look at Geto helplessly. “Sugu, I’m sorry—” you begin and he frowns. 

“Why’re you sorry? This isn’t your fault. I acted in your defence. He was clearly coming at you,” he says, his eyes searching yours, placing his hands on your arms and caressing them gently. You relax a little bit. He’s right, of course. 

“They can charge me but if any, it’s likely they’ll be dropped. There’s CCTV here, and the security guards,” he looks over to the security guard stood waiting beside you both and speaks directly to him, “were clearly negligent in carrying out their jobs to allow someone who’d been fired for harassment back into the building again.”

The guard swallows thickly. You try to hide your smile at how Geto’s handling this, it’s admirable to see. 

“There’s no problem for me, I’ll happily cooperate and give my statement to the police. The evidence is right there,” Geto says to you and nods his head to the CCTV cameras overhead. 

“Can I come with you?” You ask, and he outstretches his arm. 

“They’ll probably want a statement from you too. It’s best if you did,” he says and you both walk with the security guard to the side. 

Police arrive, take statements, and evidence of the CCTV. They determine there’s no charges. You head back home with Suguru and take the day off. 

He’d made your favourite meal for lunch, and as you’re curled up together on the couch eating and watching TV, you kiss his cheek. “It’s sweet having you as my bodyguard.”

“I like being it too,” he replies and glances over to you with a tender gaze, feeling content that he’s the one to protect you and keep you safe. 

“Does this mean we can do bodyguard role play in the bedroom?” You say and he coughs, almost choking on his food. 

You laugh quietly and pat his back as he says your name, “Now that, I didn’t expect.”

“Is that a yes?” You grin as he sips on his drink, eyeing you over the rim.

He sets his glass down and smirks, “It certainly is.”

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