#SHH ... IT CAN HEAR YOU. ( music )

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — As the clock ticked past midnight, you swayed in the kitchen, spatula in hand, humming softly to the melody playing from your phone. The savory aroma of bulgogi filled the air, marinated beef sizzling in the pan just the way Nanami liked it.

The front door clicked open quietly, but you never once heard it over the music and the sizzling food. Nanami’s tired eyes softened at the sight of you dancing between stirring the meat and chopping vegetables, completely lost in your own world. He set down his suit jacket silently, his years of behind a sorcerer allowing him to move without making a single sound- allowing him to sneak up on you.

You gasped as familiar strong arms suddenly encircled your waist, spinning you around. "Eep~!" you squealed with delight before giggling as you came face to face with your husband's smiling eyes.

"You're still up?" his deep voice tinged with affection, but you could hear the hint of guilt, "You didn't have to wait up..."

"I wanted to," you replied, reaching up to brush a stray strand of his blonde hair away from his forehead, "Besides, you shouldn't eat convenience store food every night." Before he could dismiss the accusation you arched an eyebrow, "you’ve been working overtime so much, Kento… I see the 7/11 wrappers in your car."

Nanami’s gaze lingered on your face, taking in the softness of your features in the warm kitchen light. You were so thoughtful, so loving and kind to him… He was truly grateful you yelled at him all those years ago that he deserved happiness.

Without warning, he gently took the spatula from your hand and set it aside, then pulled you away from the stove.

"What about dinner-" you protested, but he just reached over to lower the heat.

"It can wait," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand finding the small of your back, the other intertwining with your fingers as he began to sway with you around the kitchen island.

Your soft giggles filled the air again, "And what do you think you’re doing Mr?"

"Dancing with my wife," Nanami answered simply, his usual serious demeanor melting away in the privacy of his home, "I missed you today."

You let your head rest against his broad chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. His blue dress shirt still carried the scent of work and hints of his expensive cologne, always the comfort for you after waiting hours for him to come back to you.

"…How was work?" you asked, looking up at him.

"Gojo makes it difficult, but Itadori is improving." he replied, but you already knew it was the same old, his eyes always giving himself away- tired of fighting, of responsibilities, of the weight of being a sorcerer, "But I'm home now."

You raised yourself on tiptoes, pressing your body closer to his, "Yes, you are," you whispered, your lips finding his. What started as a gentle kiss quickly deepened, your tongues meeting in a dance of their own as they fought for dominance. His hand on your lower back pressed you even further into him, the other holding the back of your head now as if you were his lifeline… a low groan escaping him as he pulled back reluctantly.

"It would seem," he breathed against your lips, "as much as I'd like to continue, we have an audience."

You turned in his arms, following his gaze toward the spiral staircase that led to the second floor. There, peeking through the railings with wide eyes and matching tousled hair, were your three little girls- miniature versions of their father with your smile.

"Papa’s home!" the youngest whispered loudly, as if it were still a secret.

The middle one elbowed her, "Shh! They were having a moment!"

Your eldest just watched with a smile, her hands pressed against her cheeks as if watching a romance film.

Rather than embarrassment, warmth spread through your chest as you looked back at Nanami. His eyes crinkled with pure joy, the rare, full smile that only his family got to see spreading across his face.

"Shooould we send them back to bed?" you asked quietly.

Nanami shook his head, then gestured to the girls, "Come here girls. Your mother made a feast."

As the girls scrambled down the stairs in their pajamas, excited despite the late hour, Nanami pulled you back into him so that he could continue dancing, swaying ever so gently.

"Just a little longer," he whispered into your hair, savoring this moment and memorizing every last detail so that he could relive this in his head tomorrow while he worked.

The food could wait. For the night was still young… ish.

And Nanami Kento, your beloved husband was home.

˚₊‧꒰ა. 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[cameronsbabydoll]

DESERVED BETTER ෆ RAFE CAMERON

WARNINGS — cheating (your bf cheating on you) slapping (your bf slaps you, yes he’s a dick) rafe punches your boyfriend and kicks him, blood

Rafe watched as your boyfriend moved down the hallway of some random kook’s house; the music blared in his ears, and his eyes filled with fury as he watched your boyfriend lead the random girl into a bathroom. And the worst part isn’t even that, but it’s the fact that once Rafe finishes smoking his joint, he sees you walk through the door, Rafe stands up, throwing the joint out and walking up towards the entrance and to you, “Hey Sugar,” Rafe says, his blue eyes most definitely not moving over your form and most definitely not staring a second too long over the way your tits look in that outfit. “You, uh, looking’ for your little boyfriend?” 

Rafe knows that the second he asks that it’s a shot at the fact your boyfriend has never once ever deserved you, so here he is crushing on you like some dumb high school boy. Rafe points his thumbs towards the hallway, “He’s in the bathroom, sweetheart.” Rafe watches how you don’t even wait a second before walking away from him and down the hallway, knocking on the bathroom door. 

Rafe stands there looking at your figure disappearing, lost in his thoughts as the bass of the house music plays on; it isn’t until he hears the sound of a slap coming from the exact bathroom you went in, not the sound of skin slapping against each other in a sexual way. Nah, Rafe would most definitely know if it was that, but that was a damn slap. And that right there is the type of shit that Rafe would most certainly not allow. 

Rafe moves through the crowd of people dancing, pushing some aside, not sparing a glance before opening the bathroom door. The random girl is scrambling to pull up the ridiculously short skirt, and your boyfriend is tucking his tiny dick into his jeans, and you? His unbelievably sweet girl that isn’t his? You’re clutching your hand to your cheek, tears dripping down your face; your cheek is stinging red. And that moment right there is when Rafe’s fury and rage boil over.

Before Rafe can even think, his fist is slamming into your boyfriend’s face, the sound of his knuckles cracking into his jaw, the drip of blood pouring down on the bathroom floor. And for the hell of it, Rafe throws another punch for his own sake, “Get the hell out of here,” Rafe growls in his face, shoving his head towards you.

“And you’re going to apologize right now, and after that, you’re going to get your ass out of this house and never ever come back.” Before your boyfriend can even move his mouth to talk, Rafe slams his elbow back into his face, “You know what, dickhead? You don’t even deserve to look at her, so you most definitely don’t deserve to even speak to her. Get the fuck outta here!” Rafe yells into his ear, bringing his arm around your neck, and he leads you upstairs to a spare bathroom. 

Rafe picks you up and sets you on the bathroom counter. He reaches under the sink and grabs a medical kit and an ice pack. Rafe wipes your face with a wipe, and he presses a gentle kiss right on the red spot before placing the ice pack on it. “I know it’s not my place, doll, but please tell me you’re going to end this with him.” Rafe pleads slightly as his hands reach to cup your face, shaking his head as he looks into your eyes. “He never ever once deserved you, sweet girl.”

Rafe can see the tears swelling in your eyes again, your body trembling slightly. Rafe’s thumb reaches over, wiping the tears that are falling from your eyes. “Shh… don’t cry on me, sweet girl.” 

“I—I’m sorry…” and before you can finish your words, Rafe cuts you off as he leans his forehead against yours. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for baby, your safe now. I promise I got you.”

Rafe can feel your head nodding against his, trying to sink in his comforting words, “Fuck, baby, I can’t see you like this, so please, baby, listen to me, please, alright? You are way too perfect for that jerk, way too good to be wasting your time on some piece of shit like him.” 

Rafe leans back slightly, taking a deep breath, his hands moving down from cupping your face and resting down on your hips, pulling you slightly closer. “I know we can’t… I know that you haven’t even broken up with him, but fuck, baby… I want you… and I’d do anything for you.” Rafe brings one of his hands from your hip bone to your chin, lifting it so you're making eye contact. “Just tell me what you need. Tell me how to make this all feel better; I’ll do anything.” 

Rafe can see the breathy shake your body gives before you start to speak, “I-I just… I need some time, time to end it with him. I mean, I can’t really go home now… since all of my stuff is at his.” 

Rafe nods his head slowly, keeping his hands on your hips. “Okay… I get that, baby. I’ll give you all the time to figure it all out. And you’re right, I’m not letting you go back to that prick's place.”

Rafe leans in closer, taking a deep breath. “Stay with me, sweetheart. I’ll get you anything you need or want. And don’t you worry about having to get your stuff back from the jerk’s place; I’ll send a few of my friends to go over and pack up your stuff.”

Rafe leans in the rest of the way, pressing his lips against your lips; it’s not dominating or rough, it’s soft and gentle, like a promise. “And you just focus on moving on and healing… and I’ll handle the rest. Let me take care of you, just like I should’ve been doing all along.” 

“Thank you, Rafe… I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” 

Rafe smiles softly at your words, a sense of pride swelling inside of him, “Don’t you worry about it. Listen, I know I’m not the most reliable or stable person, but I can promise that I’ll always be with you, always.” 

Rafe finally pulls back from resting his forehead against yours. “And for right now, let’s get you settled in my room; you can change or take a nice shower, okay, doll?” 

And with that Rafe scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against him as he walks down the hallway and to an untouched private bedroom; he places you gently on his bed, “Alright, baby… I think I have some sweatpants and some hoodies for you. They might be a bit big, but they should be comfortable.” 

Rafe sets down the clothes before pointing his finger towards the bathroom door, “And you can take a shower or clean up over there.” Rafe sets his hand on your knee and presses a small kiss on the side of your forehead. “I promise that you’re safe here with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you on my watch. I promised to protect you, and I intend to keep my promises.”

And with that promise, Rafe stands up and steps outside the door to give you some privacy to collect yourself. 

[lolkency]

Secret(Shh)

⋮ you unexpectedly see your former ta at a house party

❥ nerdmin x reader

cw: oral sex, fingering, squirting, sexual intercourse, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, (kinda) rough

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...

RANDOM PARTY

The buzz from the pre-game shots spread through your veins, as you and your friend Sasha walked up the stairs to a random party. She'd begged you to go as soon as she learned about it through her friend Connie.

She knew you never turned down a party, it was the only way to distract yourself from the hellish life of being a pre-med student.

Apparently it was thrown by some guy named Eren, whoever he was, he was loaded. The all white mansion's lights shined bright in the night.

"Nice house" you admired, still walking up the never ending stairs.

"Yeah, his family's loaded, his dad's a really big surgeon around here" Sasha replied.

"Mhm maybe I could shadow him...you think I could get an internsh-"

"Ah ah, no nerdy talk right now" Sasha shushed you, as you finally made it to the front door.

You thought maybe there'd be some sort of security because of the scale of the party, and it being in such a wealthy neighborhood, but Sasha just walked right in, and you followed.

The crowd was massive, everyone practically bumping shoulders...or other parts.  You couldn't help but admire the chandeliers above you, the lights changed colors along with the beat of the music.

Taking your attention away from the pretty lights, you caught the eyes of a familiar blonde. His blue eyes glowed in the now purple lights, glasses framing his face. He wore a dark green t-shirt, and a multi-colored flannel, with jeans.

Before you could wave, nod, or give him any type of acknowledgment, you were pulled in the opposite direction.

"C'mon I wanna see what they have to drink" she shouted over the music. You just nodded, still being tugged toward the kitchen. Once you were there, Sasha fixed you and her cups of punch.

You however, were still thinking about the blonde. He was your Biochem TA from last semester. You'd always thought he was sweet and kinda hot in a sorta nerdy way. You felt there was a bit of tension between you, but you never acted on it.

He even had one on one tutoring sessions with you before your exams. If it weren't for him you doubt you would've passed with an "A".

You wondered if he even remembered your name, he probably had so many other things to worry about.

Sasha handed you your drink, "Y/n?"

"Hmm" you finally snapped out of your thoughts, grabbing the red solo cup.

"Did you hear anything I said" she sighed, taking a sip of her punch.

"No, sorry. What did you say?" you shook your head, sipping the red concoction. It was actually pretty good, a bit sweeter than you'd like, but good.

"I saidddd, Nic is here!" She exclaimed. Nic being her crush of a few months, who you're sure that everybody knows likes her, but her.

"What? How?" You questioned.

"I sent him a snap of me at the party to make him a bit jealous, but then he snapped me back saying he was here too and asked if I wanted to hang" she could barely contain her excitement.

"So you're leaving me for your crush?" You playfully pouted.

"No of course not, you can come too" she smiled, not seeing anything wrong with you intruding.

"Ugh no Sash, I don't think Nic wants to hang with me. I think he wants one on one time with you, ya know?" You chuckled.

"No...he doesn't think of me in th- wait really?"

"Yeah Sash I'm pretty sure he likes you back, like 99.999% sure"

"Okay I'm going, you sure you'll be okay?" She looked up at you, concern in her brown eyes, oh how you loved her.

"Yes, I promise. I'll find something...or someone to do" you laughed, half joking.

"Alright wish me luck" she kissed your cheek and then she was off in another direction.

You decided to walk back towards the heart of the party. Scanning the crowd, your eyes moved towards the area of the familiar face, only to see he was gone.

"Looking for someone?" A voice questioned, close beside you. You instinctively jumped, turning to see Armin Arlert, your former Biochem TA.

Although the air was filled with weed and liquor, you were still able to get a whiff of his citrusy cologne. Well, you'd found him, or rather he'd found you.

"Yeah, I was looking for you actually. You're the only familiar face I've seen and my friend just ditched me" you sipped more of the sugary drink.

Armin only hummed in response, nodding over to his former spot in a corner. You nodded, following him through the crowd.

"So, you still a TA for Professor Hange?" You shouted above the music.

"Yep, not the same as last semester though" he replied, finally making it to the corner, where the music wasn't as loud.

"How so?" You questioned.

"The students don't ask for my help, I kinda feel useless" he let out a soft chuckle.

"You know I kinda missed you, you actually seemed like you wanted to learn". He smiled over at you, his pretty eyes meeting yours.

You took another drink of punch before responding."Really? You missed me?" You laughed. He only responded with a head nod, licking his lips, unintentionally giving you get a glimpse of his tongue ring. That god damn tongue ring.

"I missed you too" you blurted out, a smirk formed against his lips.

"Yeah?" He moved closer to you, his cologne was intoxicating.

"Yeah" you responded, with an innocent smile.

"There's no other TA like you" you added, finishing the cup of punch which you're pretty sure was 80% sugar, but you still felt a slight buzz.

Armin's cheeks burned red, and you couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol in his red solo cup or your comment, but you hoped it was the latter.

"You know, I kinda thought you didn't remember me" you continued.

"Who could forget such a pretty face" Armin's eyes flickered up at yours then to his drink, taking another sip.

"Am I just a pretty face?" You teased, moving even closer, face to face.

"No, you're smart and passionate about your future, it's admirable" he smiled at you, genuinely.

You didn't know if it was the punch or the way he was complimenting you, but you felt like you had a chance, and you took it.

"I've always thought you were cute"

"Cute? Just cute?" He asked, his mouth twitched into a smirk.

"And smar-" Armin's free hand grabbed your face, pulling you into an abrupt kiss. His lips were soft and sweet from the punch.

The kiss was quick, but you could still feel his warm lips pressed against yours once he pulled back.

"Thanks, but I'm not just cute" he smiled, his hands left your face, and back into his pockets.

"How so?" You teased.

"Let me show you"

The next thing you knew, you were upstairs in a random bathroom.

Armin locked the door, pushing you against it, connecting your lips again. He held your face in one hand, while holding your hip with the other. This kiss was rougher, less calculated, more frantic.

Feeling his tongue push against your lips, you let it slip in. The silver ball you'd fantasized about in class, was now in your mouth, and you couldn't help but moan at the thought.

Armin broke the kiss a string of saliva moved with him, still connected to your lips. He smirked down at you before grabbing the ends of your tank and lifting it over your head.

You quickly discarded your bra, your nipples hardened from the cool air of the bathroom. "Fuck, they're even better than I imagined" Armin drooled at the sight of your breast, you took it he was a boob guy.

His lips attached to one of your nipples, playfully flicking his tongue before sucking it. You let out a soft moan, grabbing his head, fingers running through his hair.

His other hand moved to play with your other breast, pinching and grabbing it, until it stung. The slight pain went straight to your cunt, begging for attention.

His teeth bit down on the sensitive skin and you swore you could see stars. You moaned out, grabbing his hair and pulling him up to look at you.

"You're a little freak aren't you" you teased, before grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss. You moved from the door, sitting on the sink. Your legs spread, letting Armin in between, both his hands laid on your thighs.

Your hands moved from his neck, back to his soft hair, tugging it a bit, when he bites down on your bottom lip. He pulled back from the kiss, out of breath.

"I like to be in control" he looked at your sternly, glasses at the slope of his nose.

"Then take control" you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, his clothed erection against your clothed cunt. There were too many barriers between you at the moment.

He let out a chuckle, before giving your thighs a light squeeze to let go of his waist. He moved away from you and over the toilet, placing his glasses on the seat.

Then his flannel and shirt were off, and you couldn't help but admire his body. Holy sleeper build.

Once he's in front of you again, your hands immediately attach to his chest, his heart was racing, and for some reason you felt your pussy pulse because of it.

His hands moved to lift your skirt, sliding your black panties off. He balled the thin fabric, before placing them in your mouth with a smirk. "Shh" he lifted a finger to his mouth.

Then he was on his knees, between your legs. "You know, it may be perverted to say, but I've imagined what you'd taste like" his breathe shuddered against your cunt. He was such a freak, and you loved it.

Armin wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. Without warning, he dipped his tongue into your heat, down to your hole lapping up your slick and moving to your clit.

His tongue moved in circles against the sensitive bud, the metal ball adding a new element of pleasure. He slurped and sucked your clit just as hungrily as he'd done your breasts.

You moaned into your panties, moving your head back against the mirror. His fingers dug into your thighs, as his tongue dipped into your hole, swirling around before slurping your arousal.

He took a hand from your thigh, taking his ring and middle finger into his mouth and interning them into your cunt. "Mmm" you moaned, muffled by the fabric.

"You're so wet" he smiled up at you innocently, so much that it gave you whiplash. How could he look like that but do things li-

His lips attached to your clit again, as his fingers eagerly pumped inside you with a slight curve, hitting your sweet spot.

"Mmm mm" you pleaded, wanting to announce you were close, your hands grabbed a hold of his hair, pressing him further onto your cunt.

Armin continued his pursuit against your pussy, never letting up. He sucked your clit so hard you swore the stars were back, and with another pump of his fingers hitting that spot, you came undone.

Pleasure ran through your veins, the pressure in your abdomen releasing, you squirted against Armin's fingers. Your arousal and liquids all over his face, but he continued pumping into you.

"Mmm mm mm" you wanted to cry out from the pleasure and overstimulation, but Armin continued attempting to get another orgasm out of you.

He groaned against your clit, before lifting his head to look at you, "cmon you can do it again, I know it" he coached you.

"Just lift your hips a bit"

You nodded, moving your hands from his hair to the marble bathroom counter, slightly lifting your hips, arms trembling.

"Good girl" he smirked, still pumping his fingers into you, he spat against your clit before adding pressure with his thumb.

Armin watched your face the entire time, your second orgasm slowly built and he knew the moment your cunt clenched around his fingers you were almost there.

With his fingers bruising your cunt, you came undone again. Tears left your eyes, as you squeeze them shut, coming down from the high. Your hips jerked against his hands and Armin finally removed his fingers, giving your clit a soft peck.

He raised from his knees, taking the panties from you mouth. You let out a sigh, catching your breath, your body slumped on top of the counter.

A smirk formed across his lips, sticking his fingers into your mouth and you sucked them clean. Armin brought you into a quick kiss, unbuttoning his pants.

His jeans and underwear dropped to floor and the only thing left was his painfully erect dick. It was...pretty, just like him. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

"Stand up and turn around" Armin ordered, and your smile immediately faded, you didn't even know if you could stand anymore.

"You can do it" he added, his blue eyes softened.

You nodded, slowly getting off the counter, your legs took a second to readjust, but you were good...for now.

Turning around, you placed your hands against the marble counter. Armin's hands grabbed your ass, kneading it before aligning himself with your cunt.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Mmhm" you replied, looking back at him over your shoulder.

Armin slid himself inside you, and you finally felt whole. You let out a small whimper, which gained a slight moan from Armin.

A hand slapped your ass, forcing another whimper out of you, the pain hurt so good. Armin's strokes started off slow, but it wasn't long before his pace quickened, his hips snipping against you.

Each stroke, hitting your already bruised cervix. He looked down at himself moving in and out of your cunt. You swallowed him whole, taking him so well.

Your cunt dripped with your arousal, and he was proud to say he'd made you this way. You had gotten wet just for him. "Mmhm" he moaned, lifting a hand and slapping your ass again.

You looked up at the mirror, dried mascara streaks against your skin. You looked fucked out, but you could go for another orgasm, and he for sure gonna give it to you.

Armin increased his speed, pounding into you over and over. Your hands gripped against the counter, close to your release.

"Fuck Armin" you cried out, your legs trembling from his pursuit. He abruptly pulled out of you, turning you around and picking you up. To be honest, you hadn't thought he could lift you, but he did so effortlessly.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, as he pushed you back down onto his length. Pushing your back against the door, Armin began pumping into you again. With his face in the crook of your neck, he moaned, fingers digging into your thighs, he was close.

His hips snapped into you, coaxing your orgasm. You tightened your legs around his waist, wanting no space between you. Your hands moved to his hair again, giving it a slight tug.

Your hips bucked against his, "Mmhm Armin" you cried out, your third orgasm washed over you. New tears fell down your face, as you sobbed from the pleasure.

Armin groaned against your neck, "fuck I'm gonna cum." His strokes became staggered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, as he came inside you, his warm seed coating your insides. He pumped into you a few more times, coming down from his high.

Armin caught his breath, slowly placing you to your feet, giving your forehead a soft peck.

✎ i promise he gave after care(i mean it’s armin we’re talking abt)

sorry for any grammar/spelling errors, i’ll fix em when i have the time<3

- ciara💻

[muntitled]

Girl On TV

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader

Summary: After being humiliated by his not-so-innocent friends for being far too innocent, you decide not to be such a prude for once in your life

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Virgin!Reader, Coercion, Peer Pressure, Drug Use, Virginity shaming, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Sadomasocism, Grinding, Porn, Corruption Kink, Pillow Humping, Mutual Masterbation

A/n: I love being a problematic Namgyu stan

You hadn't known it would come down to this.

Had you been told before you would be dragged to sit on his lap under the dim lights of Club Pentagon and made to see this... you might not even have some at all.

Perhaps if he had invited you under the guise of distracting you from academics for one Friday night, you might've been more open.

Less of a prude.

But you had never seen such a clean line of powder stretched across the table in your life. In fact your body burns with not only embarrassment at being in the proximity of such hardcore drugs, but your bones were also set alight in fear.

The arms that have been cradling your waist pulls you in tighter, making you feel smaller than you actually were on his lap. This is what you loved about him. He liked you. Your curves. Your face. Your everything.

You could stick this out, couldn't you?

You should.

"Woah," He calmly whispers into your ear. All at once, every morsel of discomfort is driven out by your overwhelming need to please him.

The club is dark.

The music is good.

Namgyu's pulled you onto his lap in front of an embarrassingly large group of strangers. Everything is perfect.

"What's wrong?" He's so attentiative, bending his head down to whispers conspiratorially into your hair. His voice drowns out the oppressive rap song being performed on the center stage on the ground floor of the club and for all of five minutes its just you and him and the cocaine. Buy mainly, just him.

"You're strung up." He whispers.

You're quiet for a few tense minutes, wondering if you should voice your concerns and risk having him disappointed in you for not having fun like he intended.

"I don't know if I'm too comfortable."

"Here?" You hear him whisper, slightly poking his head forward to nudge his nose into the back of your neck, "With me?" He's using that petulant almost needy voice of his when he's inebriated and it tugs at something deeply troubled inside you.

"Not with you," you reassure him, "With that-" you nudge your head forward slightly, leading his half-lidded eyes to the long stripe of cocaine marring the table. "And your friends," you reluctantly murmur, letting yourself sink against him as if he had the power to scare these drunken people away. As if he wasn't forcing you here, amongst them at all.

"You know Thanos is a big name in the club scene-" He begins and you cut him off by sighing very loudly as you resch forward to grab your glass of water off the small, reflective table.

Thoroughly annoyed because he's sung this song before.

"I know, Namgyu but-"

His fingers weave into themselves around your waist, securing you against him like a baby, "Just be cool for like 40 minutes- maybe and hour-"

Your blood pressure skyrocketed as you turned back to shoot him, not only a look of immense incredulousness but betrayal.

"Namgyu, you said you wanted to take me out- yeah? Not your friends-”

"-Then we can get out of here, and I'll give you all the kisses you want."

You sigh heavily once more. “You didn't say anything about-"

He loosens his grip from your waist before standing up, forcing you to stand up in the process.

"He's coming," he whispers, keeping his eye off into the distance. His attention is much not on you and your present moral struggles.

"This is work, baby, you know this-"

"Namgyu- I have a test on-"

He pinches your side as a new guest enters the section. "Shh." Namgyu whispers at the same time the guest's boisterous hollers cause you to quite literally flinch.

"Yo, Namsu!" He's dripping in gold chains and purple hair. "Who is this fine Senorita you've brought with you?" He asks despite having two women under his arm. "You trying to outdo me bro?" Thanos takes a seat directly beside you and Your boyfriend.

"This is my girl-" He says at the same time Namgyu pulls you back onto his lap.

"It's Nam-Gyu-" you say through gritted teeth. "Not Nam-Su." Your eyes are narrowed at the man who only listens and smiles.

You glare daggers at the man before your boyfriend taps you slightly, reminding you to answer. “I have water- so no thank you." You say before mumbling, "I'm not a snitch either-"

"Is she partaking with us?" He asks your boyfriend, despite looking right at you. “Or is she a snitch?"

The girl under Thanos' arm snickers. "Water?"

You once again, tried to crawl further into Namgyu's lap.

He, thankfully tightened his grip around your waist, never letting you go as he conversed in inebriated chatter with Thanos. The more drugs they consumed the louder they got, until Namgyu started flailing his right arm wildly while he told a story, still having somewhat enough sense to keep a languid grip on your waist.

Somewhere, amongst all the useless chatter, you decided to add in your two cents, snickering quietly to yourself as you mumbled over the rim of your glass, "I've actually never watched porn before-"

"What do you mean you've never watched porn before?" Your eyes widen when you realize you'd spoken louder than you intended to and one of Thanos' girls snicker loudly. The sound carries across the table to his degenerate friends and their girlfriend's and causes a whole new wave of laughter to be birthed from your embarrassment.

You begin to squirm in Namgyu's lap.

Despite the drugs and the loud music, the two of you were having such a nice evening... You never fancied partying much and yet, your boyfriend had to sink his claws into you to get you to agree to one night of partying. The consequences of that decision are playing out in front of you.

"You've been banging a virgin this entire time?" Thanos asks Namgyu the same time and nameless girl says-

"Even I've watched porn."

Despite the anxiety flooding your veins at being the center of unwanted attention, Namgyu's grip around your waist is firm. It keeps you grounded. It tightens around you now, nudging you against him like his nose at the nape of your neck.

"Have I?" Namgyu asks with his eyes as hazy as the city caught in dusk. There isn't alcohol on his breath, only a light dust of snow under his nose.

"Have you what?" You ask, staring down at your trembling hands.

"Been dealing with a virgin this entire time?" He asks, unraveling your very private life to a room full of strangers. He's high. And incredibly loose with his mouth. You have to find it in you to take his inebriation into account but you only feel annoyed.

“Is that why you don't do drugs with me?"

"I don't do drugs with you because I actually value my health-"

"Sick burn," Thanos snorts in his little corner.

Your eyes widen. Your throat tightens.

These aren't your people.

Your people are nestled in the university library, cramming one final time before their semester tests.

Yet here you were, caught under a thick cloud of smoke that had your throat burning, all for a boy.

And admittedly priceless one.

"Don't be an asshole." You turn to glare daggers at him.

"Don't be a prude-" he shoots back. A few locks of hair fall from behind his ear as he watches you with a darkened gaze. "Is that why we haven't had sex yet?" Your heart plummets, "cus you're a virgin?” Namgyu asks. You don't know which side he's on.

"Woah!? A virgin in the flesh-" Thanos hollers, staring at you like a specimen in a petri dish. He nudges the girl under his arm, "I'd cheat on you if you ever tried that shit with me.”

"I know!" The girl responds before turning to look at you with dazed, dilated pupils. "Aren't you scared he's gonna do something if you wait too long?"

These aren't your people.

"If Namgyu wants to sleep with someone then by all means-"

You wrestle out of his iron grip, thanking God for the water that's keeping you sober and steady on your feet.

"Ooh, spicy, spicy-" Thanos mumbles

"Can I go please?" Namgyu keeps his hand in yours, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

"Nah, you leave when I leave, I'm still working-"

You pull your hand out of his.

"I have a test on Tuesday. Goodnight.

Its not like you thought he would follow you. Namgyu was especially selfish, as was the case for most addicts. Right now, you imagine him snapping out of his daze, leaning back over that table, tucking his hair behind his ears as he snorted up whatever Thanos wanted him to.

You didn't think you were being followed and so you feel thoroughly and completely alone once you get to your apartment.

Despite being completely alone this evening, you still try to hide what you're watching on your phone. Your headsets are pulled over your ears, your head reclined against the arm of the couch while your blankie was pulled over your supine frame. You hadn't exactly planned on watching porn this evening but the group's bullying had left you curious.

The girl projected on your phone screen looks up at the actor about to rail her insides. "You've been a bad girl,"

You roll your eyes into the back of your skull. This was precisely why you refrained from mainstream porn. Some of the best stuff was either in your audio files or in your reading list. Visual porn never did much for you- until you scrolled a little too far down to a new, more promising video.

The actress has a crimson handprint on her ass, as her dom forces her to ride her pillow. Despite the difference in skin tone and the overall mediocre acting, you were having a considerable amount of fun imagining yourself in her place. You thought about an invisible collar clamped around your throat with a big, strong, domineering man loomed above you, forcing you to push your clit right up against-

The more you slipped into a pleasure filled haze. You watch with bated breath.

"Sh-it-" you nearly fall off the couch. Your phone plops out of your slippery hands, right onto your face and your headphones slide off. Standing above you, is Namgyu, trying to fight a grin off his face as he stares down at you. You look up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Wh-when did you get back home?" the words barely leave your mouth before Namgyu's grabbing your phone.

"Naughty, naughty girl," He doesn't seem surprised to see the contents on your screen. In fact, the only giveaway that he saw anything at all is the slight flicker his eyes make towards you, before he stares back down at the phone.

"H-How was 'work'?" You're desperately trying to steer your attention away from the blatant porn on your phone screen, away from the smirk on his face as he bites his lips, away from his exposed tattoos in his short sleeve shirt.

"Work was work." He replied, still watching the porn, "I'm high as shit." He says casually as he disappears into the bedroom, your phone still in his hand.

"Hard too." He says when he returns. Your phone clutched in one hand and the large teddy bear he bought you for your 21st clutched in the other hand. You furrow your brows up at him, confused when he takes a seat on the couch. Your feet against his thigh as he clicks a few buttons on your phone before seating the giant teddy bear beside him.

He grabs the remote before pressing a few buttons.

You freeze when you hear the moans first.

Your gaze catches the TV.

There, the girl from your screen rides her pillow and you're forced to watch.

You're almost too embarrassed to feel turned on. Ungluing your eyes from the TV, you instead watch your hands in your lap.

He places a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's sitting comfortably on his side, remarkably unfazed by the girl's pornographic moans.

"Fuck the bear." Is all he says, as he leans against his arm and he strokes your chin. Petting you.

"Wha-"

"You gonna make me ask again?"

It's something in his tone and his hazy, half-lidded gaze that kickstarts your senses as you languidly stand on your feet. You're trembling and he reaches out to interlock your hands in his. Namgyu loved how eager yet innocent you are for him. He can see in the clumsiness of your movements that you were already slipping into subspace. With trembling fingers, you reach up to the thin straps of your pyjama dress and he nods his head.

"Should I take off my panties too?" Your voice is small.

Namgyu tilts his head. "You even have to ask?"

Behind you, the girl's breathing doubles and her moans increase.

"Better hurry or she's gonna cum." He taunts, watching like a stone statue as you mount the bear seated beside him. Namgyu's breathing catches as you straddle the bear, your movements tense and uncertain.

"Fuck the bear-" you lower your cunt onto the fur material and you moan, having not realized how wet you'd actually been this entire evening.

"That's it- fuck." He spreads his legs, leaning back more as he lets his hand brush over the tent in his jeans.

You don't moan because it feels good. It doesn't. Not immediately at least. You moan because Namgyu is watching. Reclined against the couch as his eyes stay on you.

"Ride the plushie like the girl in the video." He says. Your throat dries when he continues to languidly stroke his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants.

"Fuck- Gyu," he knew when the nickname fell from your lips that you were done for.

You both were.

Your eyes steadily roll to the back of your head as you grind your pussy against the bear, already creating a wet spot.

Behind you, you heard the girl moan and whine and somehow that spurrs you on.

"So fucking needy-” you gasp when you feel a hand cupping your exposed breasts. Namgyu reaches over to tweak your nipples just as his other hand finally slips inside his pants.

"Crane your fucking neck back. Try to watch the slut make herself cum." When you do, your hips stutter hard and your clit twitches.

"You watch her." Namgyu commands, stroking his exposed cock, "I'd rather watch you."

As you watch, his mouth runs. Namgyu swore a lot but it doubled when he caught himself in the throes of arousal.

“You look just like that bitch, you know that?”

Your mouth snaps open as you watch her. Your expression is pained.

“You want everyone to think you're such a quiet little girl but your just a slut, yeah?” He speaks lpuder, “Just my fucking slut- fuck.” It nearly causes you to cum everywhere. Her hand is pushing down on the face of the poor, poor pillow as she rides it. You can tell she's close.

Unable to look any longer, you turn back. Your hazy eyes meets Namgyu's dilated ones. He's stroking his cock, head thrown back against the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar. His cock is throbbing in his hand and he squeezes, showing you the precum sliding down the length.

"Gyu, please-" you grinded harder against the plushy and Namgyu picked up the pace.

"You imagining me fucking you, huh?" He throws his head back, closing, his eyes momentarily close as his cock twitches in his hand.

"Fuck- I-" your clit was rubbing against the plushie just right. Namgyu's fingers mercilessly squeezing your nipples have you seeing stars. This friction was enough.

Fuck.

Air could be enough to let you come in this moment. All you had to do was buck your hips a little more- but the pain blooming across your breasts were distracting you from cumming.

"Please-" your whole body was trembling- "It fucking hurts!"

His mouth falls open at that, before leaning his head against the couch. He squeezes the base of his cock and you watch the precum slide down its length.

"Fuck, say that again-" he brings his head back before stroking his cock faster. "Fuck the plushie, baby," His hips move up from the couch to meet his hand. "Tell me it hurts again-"

He sits up to tweak your nipples again and you whine. "H-Hurts so bad-"

"Yeah, Princess, just like that," he groans, throwing his head back, "Such a stupid fucking slut-" he admits, voice groggy.

Somehow that final degradation has your hips twitching as your clit spasms and you slip into the stars.

The second you cum, Namgyu does too. Cursing and mumrering a quiet and slightly broken, "Fuck- such s-slut-" before reaching over to grab a fistfull of your braids. Your hips are still writhing, your eyes as blank as a corpse as he pulls you forward to spray his cum all over your face.

He squeezes his cock, unable to keep his pretty eyes shut as he watches you writhe and moan. "Fuck me-" he sighs.

"Don't watch this shit again." He says, huffing and puffing. "It's bad for you."

In a second, he presses a button on the remote and the TV screen is black.

"If you need dick, come to me."

"You were making f-fun of me," you grumble under your breath, and you sigh heavily.

Your eyes are shut but you can feel him playing with his cum on your face.

"I wasn't making fun of you. I was just surprised. You're surprising." There's a thick layer of emotion in his voice. It has your body wracking with aftershocks. "You're not like anything I've ever experienced."

[suksatoru]

here with me ⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ keigo x you

keigo's real laugh is nothing, if not music.

there's a front keigo uses when it comes to other people—a barrier he wasn't even aware existed. his faux laugh was easygoing. it was short, and it was charming. he used it whenever he was talking to the higher ups or his colleagues. hell, he used it when he spoke to anyone. he's never been able to share the intimacy of a real laugh with another person before.

secretly, he was envious of those strangers he'd hear every once in a while. whether it was on patrol, or if he was just strolling into a coffee shop—ordinary citizens, people, humans, we're always laughing around him.

it could be huffs of air, odd squeaks or giggles—people with heaving chests, people chuckling, people snorting, people wheezing—but keigo knew a real laugh when he heard one.

which was odd, because he hadn't heard his own real laugh until you.

you're tucked into keigo's side, half awake and half asleep as you stumble forward. your eyes are barely open—and you're so drunk that keigo can already imagine the headache his poor baby is going to have tomorrow morning

"c'mon songbird, up up up."

he takes off your clothes and makeup, changing you quickly into your nightgown as you talk. you babble on about anything and everything that comes to your mind as he works—keigo kneels in front of you, smiling softly as he slowly unravels your dress and takes off your silvery shiny heels—he pulls on your nightdress, and grabs your favorite fluffy socks before tugging them up and over your feet

"kei baby," you whisper, and he glances up at you as he finishes taking off the last bit of your jewelery. he places your earrings into the little gold box you have on his desk as his warm hands wrap around your waist. he hums quietly as you suddenly place your palms flat on his chest, shoving him

he falls onto the bed with a soft oof! before sending you a confused smile

"shh...let me think, kei."

keigo folds his legs, amusement shining bright in his eyes as he watches you. your hair falls from its updo in wisps, framing your face as you stand in deep thought near the edge of your shared bed—hand on your jaw as you tilt your head

your smirk forms slowly. it's small, sly, silly and so drunk as you suddenly kneel onto the bed. you crawl towards keigo and fasten your knees on both sides of his hips—straddling him as he blinks up in surprise, not expecting your warm mouth to begin trailing kisses up his neck

sexy, is all keigo can think as a soft sigh escapes his lips. he's just about to kiss you back—when suddenly, you speak up.

"are you my appendix? because i have this funny feeling riiiight here that makes me feel like i should take you out." you whisper seductively, gliding his palm towards your tummy and under your nightgown

keigo blinks once. twice. before he stutters with his response. he tries to form even just one word—but he can't. and suddenly, he's falling apart—he's laughing so hard that he can't fucking breathe.

you blink in response, tilting your head adorably in confusion. you thought that was a good pick up line! but keigo's face is flushed for an entirely different reason other than being flustered, and his lips are stretched into a toothy grin. you're concerned for the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he's suddenly wheezing, and god, his eyes are shining with tears.

"oh-oh baby, i fucking love you."

you're slapping his arm, whining and pouting about how he ruined the moment. but your tone—your very serious face while uttering the absolute worst pick up line keigo has ever heard has him struggling to breathe in his fits of laughter

but you can't even try to be mad. because keigo's eyes are crinkling with genuine joy, and his hands are pressing you to his chest, and this laugh is so authentic—it bubbles all the way from his belly, so heartfelt and silly that you can't help but giggle along with him

"it was good, right? are you feeling—heh, turned on?"

keigo's smile is breathtaking. no wonder he's on so many magazine covers every month. finally—he leans forward, pressing his warm mouth against yours in a soft kiss as he cradles your face with both of his palms

"yeah, baby. never felt more hot and bothered... you know, 'm gonna marry you one day." he murmurs against your lips as you squirm in his lap

"nuh uh. who said i'll say yes?"

he laughs again. it's softer this time, and he maneuvers you carefully back into bed. you look like an angry kitten when you glare at him, but he only grins in response as he tucks you in—tugging the soft comforter up and over your body before getting into bed himself. he pulls you on top of him, gliding his hand up the back of your thigh all the way up until he's at the base of your spine

"you make me very happy, ya'know that songbird?"

you hum in reply, eyes already drooping close as your hold on keigo tightens just the slightest bit. his wings naturally fold to wrap around you—cocooning you in his hold.

he can see you're too tired to respond, your eyes are already slipping close when he presses a kiss onto your forehead

he admires you quietly, thanking the cosmos for allowing him to have this one good thing in life. you're drooling all over his shirt, and keigo wouldn't ever wish to have someone else laying beside him at night.

[sugawhaaa]

JEONGIN SMUT HEADCANONS

Sex with Jeongin would...

[Dom ver]

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, oral, fingering, BDSM, spit play, sweat fetish, auralism, probably more I forget 😭

Pairing:: dom!jeongin x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: I accidentally used the same photo twice but...Shh I'm too lazy to re-edit the thingy. Also the tiles for each section are a little vague, it's just for the vibes

Skz masterlist:: 🎀

🎧::

Feel like::

☆-Jeongin is a sucker for deep and fast sex...like listen Jeongin can be impatient as hell and he just needs to get in there yk what I mean?

☆-I can see him being a bit of a tease with this like when he first goes inside he waits like a few second before just putting in all of his pent up lust into pounding into you.

☆-Jeongin has been getting big asf lately and I can see him kinda having a size kink, ofc in the sense that he's bigger than you, so doing things like lifting you by your hips or guiding your body by the waist is totally his thing.

☆-Messy kisses with a fuck ton of tongue while fucking you 😫

☆-he likes to put his hands around your face and neck area. Not deliberately choking but just asserting his control, you know? Also making a mess of your spit, dipping his fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them.

☆-some spanking every now and then ^^

☆-He loves to roam his hands all over your body, your tits, thighs, ass, tummy, back, wherever he has access to his hands are gently massaging.

☆-hes so gentle when taking your clothes off ggrrr but once in a blue moon he doesn't give a fuck, he needs you naked right fucking now.

☆-You'll find his fingers in your hair quite often. Sometimes it's to pull your head back and add just a twinge of pain or other times it's just to ground himself and pull your head closer to kiss you deeper.

☆-his fingers are so long and feel perfect against or in your body. He'd use this kind of method where he sorts through your folds with his fingers by gently gliding his finger down the seam of your pussy.

☆-his fingers also hit very deep inside you to the point he has to curl his fingers so he doesn't hurt you <3

☆-hes not very into anal or anything but he would like to put a vibrator in one of the two holes and then fuck the other 😩🤌

Sound like::

☆-this man loves dirty talk so much that he is just rambling and rambling the entire time in between moans and cries. He'd say all kinds of kinky things you wouldn't imagine him to say but...he does have a freaky side.

☆-"I love it when you make that pretty face" "stick your tongue out," "awh is my baby crying?" "Shh, it's okay, you can cum soon,"

☆-He really likes hearing the sounds of your bodies colliding in anyway, the sound of your tongues dancing, the bed creaking, his hips slapping against your ass, his tongue sorting through your folds, and the sounds you make when you suck him off 😩

☆-sometimes he'll play music in the background to set the mood as well, something lofi and more relaxing than sexual unless, of course, it's one of those real freaky nights.

☆-wet noises <3 when he fingers your wet pussy so deep and he can hear your arousal sorting through his fingers.

☆-hearing your moans is his favorite thing ever, he does anything and everything to make you moan louder and higher pitched.

☆-as I mentioned earlier he is a deep and fast kinda guy so you best believe the bedframe is often begging for mercy 😁 (imagine the headboard hitting against the wall all night while the members are just trying to sleep)

☆-whispering dirty words to you <3

☆-he curses a lot during sex, though he kind of feels bad about it. He wants to keep it romantic and passionate but when your walls hug him so tightly and your nails are digging into his back he can't hold back.

☆-"Oh fuck baby," "shit I'm close!" "God damn baby, you suck me so fucking good,"

☆-I can see Jeongin making a mix of noises between grunts, moans, growls, and so on, you get the point. He's very vocal though, loud and passionate, he doesn't hold back a thing.

☆-he isn't too into daddy type tropes but he does love calling you all kinds of things that make you feel small, like babygirl, darling, princess, etc. However he is into calling you mommy 👀 but that's for the next part

☆-basically to sum up this section, sex with Jeongin is loud and he loves embracing that fact.

Look like::

☆-hear me out...sweaty sex. I feel like he'd sweat quite easily when pounding you, sweat building along his hairline and down that sharp ass jawline 😩

☆-Sometimes I feel like people forget how sexy his body is, his thin waist that perfectly tapers to his sturdy hips and thick thighs, like come on.

☆-Most of the time you'll see Jeongin on top of you in the dark. The only light source being the night sky as he looms over you, his broad chest covering your body as his knees trap you between him 🥴

☆-backshots...also cumming onto your tummy as well 🤌 he does really like creampies but he loves messy sex even more. Usually in one session he'll cum outside and inside of you at least once each. A good balance.

☆-he loves loves loves making you squirt. That sexy face you make every time, the way your body moves on its own, the way you moan, it's everything to him and best of all, the mess you make, all for him.

☆-this may sound weird but I can see him smiling a fair bit during sex. After very explosive orgasms or when it just feels so good he has to smile with a little chuckle.

☆-bro would love shower sex, I firmly believe this, so seeing him all wet is a common occurrence during sex. His hair clinging to his face as water drops down his face and chest before pressing you against the wall to fuck you all over again.

Taste like::

☆-this man eats pussy so good, have you seen his tongue work on stage? He knows how to make a woman cum 5 times over in one sitting.

☆-I can see him being really sloppy when he eats you out, his saliva dripping down on his chin and all over your pussy.

☆-oral for him can be whatever really. Sometimes it's slow an sensual or romantic and sometimes it's more...erotic

☆-he loves hearing the sounds of his cock wedging down your throat though 😩 and he likes when you let him cum on your face or make cum bubbles etc, be messy.

☆-eating you out from behind >>> he'd get you to go on all fours and he'd come up behind you to make out with your cunt.

☆-he loves spreading your folds, thighs, or ass when eating you out, he needs to get right up in there.

☆-he's the type of guy to not finger when he eats you out, he doesn't need his fingers to make you cum, only his sweet tongue and lips.

[spookysanta]

Your Motherfucking Moment. (MBJ)

Pairing: Michael B. Jordan x reader

Warnings: smut! woot woot

get into the fucking thingsssss! the (first, of probably many) stack post airs tomorrow at 12:30PM EST.

He knew what song it was from the first damn note.

They were at the function. Lights low. Champagne flutes sweating in manicured hands. People mingling in little circles, soft laughter echoing beneath the music. And then—

“I got a feeling that you brought me to you…”

His head snapped toward the dance floor.

She was already out there.

Red silk hugging every curve. Slit high enough to tease, back open enough to tempt. That shade of red made her skin glow—rich, warm, untouchable.

And she wasn’t looking at him.

She didn’t need to.

“Look what your mind’s imagination can do…”

She rolled her hips to the rhythm. Arms above her head. Hair wild and curls bouncing as she danced like no one else existed. Every man in the room took notice. Some leaned over to whisper. One had the audacity to step closer.

Michael’s jaw clenched.

He set his glass down.

And moved.

By the time he reached her, she was mid-turn, caught in her own high, and laughing.

“You think I’m just gon’ let you get away with this?” he growled, voice low, hot against her ear.

She didn’t stop dancing. Just smiled. “You didn’t stop me either.”

His hands found her hips.

Firm.

Possessive.

He moved with her to the beat, pressing his chest against her back, letting her feel every inch of his attention.

“Land it like a plane on my back if you can’t hold it…”

She let out a breathy laugh as he bit her shoulder—right where it met her neck. Not enough to bruise. Just enough to stake a claim. “You know I’m about to embarrass us both, right?”

“You always do.”

He dragged his hand lower.

Over the curve of her ass.

Under the slit of her dress.

Until she gasped.

Until her legs buckled.

Until the music faded and all she could hear was the pounding of her pulse and the rumble of his voice when he whispered:

“This is your motherfuckin’ moment.”

⸻

The parking garage was empty enough.

Dim lights. Cold air. Echoes of heels and laughter bouncing off the concrete.

But the moment they reached the car?

He spun her.

Pressed her back to the door.

Lifted her leg with one hand and palmed her throat with the other.

She was breathless before he even kissed her.

But when he did?

It was savage. Tongue, teeth, growl-in-his-throat kind of savage.

“Don’t run now,” he murmured, dragging her panties to the side. “You wanted attention.”

“You gonna give it to me?” she taunted, breath shaky.

He shoved into her with a growl.

And she screamed.

“This your motherfuckin’ moment,” he bit out, rhythm punishing. “So own it.”

⸻

Later, in the hotel suite—

He ran the bath.

Not for her. For him.

Because he needed to clean the sin off his hands before he worshipped.

He lit candles. Played the song again. Just the chorus.

“This your motherfuckin’ moment…”

He laid her out across the sheets like she was a gift and touched her like he’d been waiting his whole life for this. Every kiss was reverent. Every stroke deliberate.

He thrust slow, grinding deep like he wanted to etch the memory into her spine.

“Give me all of your emotions…” he whispered, lips to her temple.

When she cried, he kissed the tears.

When she begged, he went deeper.

When her legs gave out, he wrapped his arms around her and held on.

“You manifested this,” he whispered. “So take it.”

“Michael—”

“Shh. Let me finish.”

And when it was done—when she was trembling, sated, wrecked—

He didn’t move.

Just traced the curve of her waist and said,

“Add that to your memory.”

She couldn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

He already knew.

[ln4bub]

Public sex with oscar, other people getting off on it without them knowing or like them getting caught or maybe even oscar cuming in yn secretly in front of everyone, just anything voyeur with oscar please 😭

People would never ever guess the things that you and Oscar got up to behind closed doors, and even sometimes open ones. Oscar always got off on the idea of people seeing what he does to you, showing them how well he knows your body. They never question it when his driver’s room door is conveniently left unlocked whilst you celebrate his race, or when he licks his fingers after his hand comes up from below the table at dinner.

Sure they notice how affectionate he is, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you from behind. But they’ve never heard the filthy words he whispers to you about how easy it would be to lift up your little skirt and stuff you full. Or so you thought.

Lando is the first to notice, given the amount of time he spends around you both. He notices the way Oscar often has a hand on you, leaning in too often to whisper something discreetly in your ear. It was at dinner that the truth first came together. Oscar’s hand had been under the table for a while, him eating his dessert with just one hand. You however, hadn’t eaten an ounce of yours. When Lando looked over to you he noticed how flushed you were, how your eyelids fluttered and how your lips seemed more tempting you than the dessert.

His eyes trailed over you, following them down to where Oscar’s hand seemingly rested on your legs. From his vantage point he could see the way Oscar’s arm was flexing rhythmically, his hand moving ever so slightly. His eyes widened as he realised what his shy teammate was doing. He won’t lie and say the thought didn’t have him straining against his jeans slightly, especially when he spotted how calmly Oscar was watching him. Oscar winked at his teammate, a finger coming to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Lando swallowed dryly, nodding as he continued to glance all night, especially when Oscar licked his fingers clean.

Oscar had continued his public acts, often finding himself two fingers deep inside you as you struggled to stay quiet. But he loved the busy clubs, when the drivers booked a VIP booth and no one paid any attention to anything other than alcohol. After the end of his first season in Formula One he was itching to celebrate, aching to get you alone. Once Oscar realised this was unlikely to happen, he’s formed a plan. A plan that culminated in this moment, you on his lap in a club, whilst some other occupants of the grid watched on.

Lando again had been the first to notice, your cheeks flushing at Oscar’s words. “Imagine being stuffed full in this club, nobody would know how deep I am inside you baby.” He cooed in your ear, large hands sliding up and down your exposed legs. It took George and Fernando arriving with more shots for you to agree, firm in your decision that everyone else was preoccupied.

You wriggled in Oscar’s lap, finding a comfortable position that didn’t look too suspicious. You hovered over him as he slipped his member out of his jeans. He bit back a groan as you slid yourself down, your warm walls encasing him. “So fucking tight aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, “Such a slut for me.” You whimper lightly, burying your head in his neck as you start a subtle grinding motion against him.

“That’s it, use me where anyone could see you. Do you like that idea?” Oscar coos, “That anyone here could look over and see how needy and desperate you are.” His hands squeeze your hips as he rolls you against him, groaning in your ear at the feeling if you wrapped around him. Oscar’s grateful for the booming music, grateful that no-one can hear you moaning for him. You hear Oscar chuckle lightly from your position, looking up at him in confusion. “Don’t stop sweetheart, but we have a small audience.” Oscar tells you, your heart stopping at his words.

He smirks at the way your walls clench around him before beckoning the audience member over. You hear someone sit next to the pair of you behind the table, Oscar greeting him with a nod. “Took you a while to notice this time mate.” Oscar says, your ears barely picking up the scoff of your new admirer.

“Keeping her hidden that’s why Oscar, you know I like to see her face. See what you do to her.” Lando’s voice causes a flush to overtake you, your hips grinding harder against Oscar. He groans once more, head tilting back at the feeling of you on top of him. “Oh she’s getting you good this time isn’t she?” Lando laughs, licking his lips as he watches you move.

“You have no idea,” Oscar smirks, “She’s an angel.” He tells his teammate. You whine into his neck as Oscar’s hand wraps in your hair. He tugs lightly, your face emerging from its hiding spot. “I want you to look at Lando baby, he likes your pretty little face.” Oscar mutters, stroking your cheek gently as he grinds his cock into you. Once you make eye contact with Lando your pace increases, joined now by Oscar’s thumb on your clit. Your moan of his name catches the attention of another driver, the warmth of his body emanating from behind you.

“Roped Lando into your little kink too have you?”

The American accent of Logan fills your ears, a soft smile spreading over your lips at the familiar audience member. “It’s hot isn’t it Lando? The way she’d do anything for him. You should see them behind closed doors, absolutely filthy.” Logan muses, hand resting on your hip as he helps you move over his best friend.

“You really should come watch Lando, she loves the extra pair of eyes.” Oscar tells his teammate, “You think she’s dirty now? Wait ‘til you see her on all fours with my dick in her mouth. It’s art.” You can’t help but moan at his words, squirming at the way the three men discuss you. It’s when Lando smiles at the thought of watching you both in private, nodding at Oscar’s proposal, that you tumble over the edge.

Your legs quake and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Your walls clench around Oscar as he bites his lip, stifling the loud moan threatening to spill out. You attempt to hide your face once more but Lando holds your head still, studying your face as you cum for his teammate. Oscar grinds into you deeper, the rhythmic clenching driving him to his own orgasm. He shoots his load inside you, whimpering in sensitivity as Logan continues to move your hips.

The pair of you come down with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks, before eventually leaving the club. Trailed by Logan and Lando for a night you’ll never forget.

[floraisunwell]

Interlude | s.r

who? spencer reid x pianist!reader

summary: Penelope drags Spencer to some fancy gala to cheer on her friend. He expects to be incredibly bored but finds himself extremely captivated by the night's performer.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: me thinking "i should probably get back to playing" ended up with my keyboard still collecting dust and this . enjoy <3

Spencer finds himself at Garcia’s office – doing nothing, like it usually happens, he has finished his share of paperwork and doesn’t really have anything to do.

He’s slowly spinning around in a chair while Penelope talks on the phone, the soft hum of her many machines filling the space like background music. She sounds excited, he notices. Not her usual sunshine demeanor, even more, somehow. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but her animation intrigues him so he stills the spinning to focus on her words.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says, her voice dripping with affection. “Oh this is so amazing”

The other person on the line says something that seems to prompt Penelope to firm her tone.

“No, no, it’s still important. It might open doors for the future.” As she says this, her head is shaking and her brows are lifted like the person on the other end could see.

“Yes, that’s the energy i want,” she adds the smile returning to her face “Oh and can i come?”

Spencer hears something like a chuckle through the phone and then a muffled reply

“Okay, amazing” Penelope says and at that moment she turns just to see Spencer and her face lights up instantly. “I am also bringing someone - some extra support”, she says and Spencer’s features twist in confusion because he knows the someone she is referring to is him.

Another chuckle and muffled reply.

“Shh, stop trying to downplay it” she says tenderly “Everyone starts somewhere. Love you, keep me updated. Byee”

“So where are you taking me?” He asks resigned knowing that arguing is not even on the table.

“We’re going to some fancy gala thing, rich people buying art and classical piano music in the background, my friend is going to be playing. I hope you have a good suit”

 — ꕤ— 

“You’re taking Reid instead of me?” Morgan exclaims, hand over his heart faking offence “Who will slow dance with you?”

“I don’t think you can slow dance to classical music babe” Penelope fires back

“Well it depends on the piece, if we’re talking Beethoven Symphony No. 5 probably not. But I can imagine something like Clair de Lune or Liebestraum” Spencer says.

Penelope shoots a look at him pretending she’s mad that he just discredited her response.

“It’s a fundraiser, nobody is going to be dancing” she tells them matter of factly

“Whatever,” Morgan beams “enjoy yourselves” he pats Spencer’s shoulder as he walks past.

— ꕤ— 

Spencer didn’t actually agree to go, not that he had an option anyway. But two days later he finds himself in a rented suit, fixing his tie and hair on the backseat of a taxi, Garcia beside him with a perpetual smile framing her features.

“Looking good Spence” she says, glancing at him.

“Can’t believe you pressed me into doing this” he mutters

“Correction,” Penelope says holding up her index finger “I didn’t press you to do anything, I politely informed you of our plans for the weekend”

“Right,” Spencer shakes his head “and you also texted me suit options and a tie knot tutorial”

She grins proudly “And don’t you look amazing?”

Before he can respond, the cab pulls up to the venue, – a sprawling building through the windows he can see marble columns,  huge chandeliers cast a warm glow that spills to the street and an entry way that suggests everyone inside considers Versace casual.

He eyes the grand glass front doors warily. “So…what exactly is someone supposed to do at an event of this kind?” 

“Look put together, sip champagne, and smile” Penelope answers as she steps out of the car and smooths her dress. “Oh and clap, there’s a lot of clapping”

He goes to stand beside her with a sigh “Is this your idea of fun?”

She hooks her arm through his. “I’m here to support my friend, but watching you attempt small talk will be an enjoyable bonus”

He just makes a face which makes her laugh and they walk in.

Inside, everything is almost obnoxiously elegant. The sound of glasses clinking, heels clacking, hushed conversations, forced laughter and soft notes of a piano fill the atmosphere. Penelope scans the room, eyes searching for the source of the music. Once her gaze lands on an elevated platform, she smiles. 

A  baby grand piano sits on the centre of the stage and seated on its bench is a woman in a long black dress. Her hair tied low on the back of her head, and her eyes are closed as she plays, her head tilted slightly, fingers moving softly and confidently over the keys. It's as if the piano is an extension of her. Spencer is instantly mesmerized.

When the piece ends, the woman opens her eyes and leans forward  to reach and turn the sheet music. As she does, her eyes fall on Garcia and him. A smile appears on her lips mirroring Penelope’s expression. Garcia waves, the woman responds with a nod before going back to playing.

Spencer just stares at her, how she seems to be playing with her whole body, how her head lowers at low notes and rises at the higher ones, how she barely glances at the sheet music because she seems to know the notes by heart. Her fingers move in a cascade, fluidly – an arpeggio. Spencer knows how technically demanding they are – the wrist movements, finger gymnastics, the precision, the control – but she plays multiple of them in succession like it’s simple. Effortless. Natural. As if she’s doing something as plain as breathing.

Garcia is as captivated at her friend’s talent, she glances at Spencer after a member of the waitstaff dressed in black and white offers them glasses.

“She’s amazing” Penelope says quietly

“Very impressive yes” Spencer adds never taking his eyes off the pianist

When this piece ends, a man in a sharp emerald green suit steps onto the stage, smiling as she approaches the microphone “Ladies and gentlemen I am incredibly delighted by your presence tonight. The evening has begun on a splendid note, so, before we continue, let’s offer a warm hand to our performer”

The woman rises from the bench smoothly and applause echoes through the hall, she nods in acknowledgement then steps off the stage. She’s not even finished going down the small stairs when a small group approaches and praises her.

“You were divine” a woman with an intricate updo says “Absolutely breathtaking” the woman beside her adds. “I felt that in my soul, it was beautiful” an older man says after taking a sip from his champagne flute.

She thanks them politely with a tight smile and gracefully slips through the sea of tailored suits, and sparkling jewelry until she reaches Spencer and Penelope.

Garcia grins and pulls her into a side hug “Amazing, as always” says Garcia “I had almost forgotten how beautifully you play”

“Ah thank you so much Penny, and thank you for coming” She casts a glance at Spencer and adds “The both of you.”

“I’m sorry she dragged you here” she says with Garcia’s hand still around her.

“It was totally worth it, your performance was gorgeous” He says rushedly “I’m Spencer, nice to meet you” he adds not knowing what to do.

“ Nice to meet you, Penny talks about you and the team a lot” she answers with the smile on her lips never fading.

While the man on the stage goes on with his speech, Garcia and her friend fall into the rhythm of a conversation with Spencer occasionally commenting.

Eventually the man finishes his speech and the woman has to go again.

“That’s my cue,” she says taking the last bite from her tiny sandwich “Don’t go without me” she adds over her shoulder, already walking away.

She steps up the stairs and gives a small nod to the man now leaving the stage, he nods back and goes down leaving the stage for her again. Without missing another moment she resumes playing,  just as graceful, just as mesmerizing. Spencer finds himself simply watching again, the rest of the room melting aways with the gentle sounds

“Where does she usually play?” Spencer asks, voice low like he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

Penelope caught off guard, just blinks for a moment “At the little bar at 14th,” she replies then smiles “It’s very your vibe, I think you’ll like it”

“What makes you think I want to go?” he shoots back without missing a beat

She sips her drink, smug. “I know you do,” she says simply. “And because you haven’t blinked in two full minutes.”

He rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and Penelope considers that a win.

ty for reading!

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunnyy, can I please have a blueberry muffin with a hard lemonade for Lando?💕

the bakery menu

want to submit your own order? the follow to the main post above! i am still accepting orders! these paws are rolling out the dough as we speak! as for this one,

blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, big cock!lando, possessive behavior, missionary, sweet sex, mechanic!reader

"i don't think it'll fit, lando." you swallowed.

"shh, shh, shh." he said as he rubbed his cock up against your achy slit, "it'll fit. the more you tense up, the less it'll fit. so, relax." then flashed you a smile.

you swallowed, "please don't bruise me, norris."

he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek ever so gently, "i would never. the last thing i want is for my mechanic to not do her job."

this all started because you took a job with mercedes, leaving poor lando all by himself at mclaren (he really wasn't alone). you were his favourite mechanic, you made his car purr like a kitten and hug the curves of the track just right.

so it broke his heart that you just upped and left him. how could you!

after you left, lando made is known that you were still his mechanic. he added the possessive pronoun to your job title, even though on your resume it said that your employment with mclaren ended two months ago.

it was an event for staff that some of the drivers attended, lando included. it was for the smaller awards throughout the season for things like mechanics and other support staff. it was an excuse to let loose before the second leg of the season.

a driver was only as strong as his support team, so many of the drivers came to support their teams! but lando was glaring daggers into the back of toto wolff's head for stealing away his mechanic.

how dare he! lando had barely seen you since your departure from the team two months ago. you had been so busy getting into the groove of mercedes that it felt like you totally forgot about him and your time on his team!

after the dinner, it came time for the actual partying. while that means most got into the harder alcohol, it gave lando the chance to get closer to you.

he seated himself beside you at the table and when you looked over, he slung his arm across the back of your chair. he smiled at you, "there is my favourite mechanic."

you lit up at the sight of lando and pulled him into a tight hug. he swore you made a gleeful noise at the sight of him, which only stroked his ego.

maybe he was a little too hard on you. maybe you did miss him quite a bit. when you pulled away, you held him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"oh my god, lando!" you said, your smile big as you let go of him, "i've been seeing your messages, but i've just been so busy lately! i'm so, so, so sorry!"

aw, he really couldn't be that mad at you. you were just so painfully cute that it was like being mad at a puppy for chewing up some socks.

lando smiled back at you and wiped some of the dinner you had off your cheek, "still a messy eater as always, huh?"

you blushed a little, "oh shut up, lans." you laughed and playfully pushed his chest which caused him to grab your hands and keep them on him. you said, "i have missed you though!"

then why did you leave me, he thought.

he offered to get you another glass of wine so the two of you would keep talking. he wanted to hear all about mercedes. in reality he wanted to see where mercedes was failing in comparison to mclaren that he could convince you to come back.

your voice was music to his ears as you rambled about the other team. you hardly noticed lando's hand on your thigh until he gave it a hearty squeeze. your eyes went wide, "lans!"

he chuckled and leaned in closer to you, "i missed you. i really missed you. team's not the same without you." i'm not the same without you.

"oh! don't be silly! the new mechanic that you guys got is like a million times better than me! don't make me blush!"

all he wanted to do was make you blush. he wanted to see if it went all way down. then again he wondered how hot he'd be in the face when he was between your legs.

but he made that a reality a lot sooner than he expected.

apparently you really missed him. and you felt that you missed out on your chance to be with him. but you also were plagued with self-doubt that he'd even be into you. but lando covered up that anxiety with a hot kiss at the table before you were leading him by the hand to your hotel room with key card in your other hand.

your hotel was quaint, cute in a way as he started to get you undressed. his lips would find safety on your hated skin, his cock was heavy in his pants before he took them off.

you got up onto the bed and pulled him for some soft kisses. he melted against you, loving the feeling of you. he can't believe you missed him. it made something strange curl in his gut as he got between your legs.

"how much did you miss me?" he asked as he rubbed his hard cock against your slick pussy, "did you think about me all the time?"

you nodded, "i did lando, all the time. i felt so bad when i couldn't reply. i was worried you'd hate me." you gave a small pout.

he felt a shiver run through him, "oh, no, no, no. i could never hate you. you're my favourite!!" you blushed and covered your face. but lando took your hands away and leaned in for another kiss as he dribbling pre-cum against your pussy lips, "it's true." he said.

"lans."

he chuckled as he threatened to push his cock into you. he could feel the heat rise in his body. his heart was racing it did during a race.

"what if it doesn't fit." you said once more.

"trust me, alright? just the way i trusted you on the grid. right?" he said, almost begged. he needed this, he needed you.

you nodded, "of course." you braced for impact, but tried to keep yourself relax as he slid his cock into you. the stretch felt intense for a moment before it started to feel good.

"i'd never hurt you." he said as he planted both hands on either side of you and rutted against you. you wrapped those strong legs around him. his words were a promise as he moved against you.

"i'm sorry i didn't try to do anything sooner."

"aw, don't be. you just didn't want to ruin our jobs. i understand. i guess now that you're working for the other team, now we can do this as much as we want." he laughed.

the sex between you was almost sweet. lando peppered your face with kisses as he rocked against you. you felt so good around his cock, like two puzzle pieces.

"you feel so good."

"thank you, lans."

"i missed you every day on the grid. i got a little jealous when i'd see you working on the cars. you always looked better in orange." he admitted.

"i always thought i looked like a cheez-it."

lando kissed your lips and held onto the covers under you. his lips trailed across your skin before he said, "no, no. you looked amazing in it."

you held onto his shoulder tightly as you moved against him. it wasn't rough sex, but it wasn't too gentle either. regardless it really felt nice. it was a steady pace that allowed pleasure through your body.

the kisses your shared were wet and sweet. you could feel lando's praise of you through his lips. you held onto him. part of you wished you had done this sooner.

lando on the other hand wanted his mechanic back, he wanted you in the orange coveralls and always excited to see the cars. he just thought that you were painfully cute in the garage.

you once told him that working on a car of that caliber was a like working on a high tech puzzle, and it made the job exciting. to see your hard work (and the hard work of your former co-workers) on the track was amazing!

and lando wanted to make you proud on the track! put that hard work into action. you two worked hand in hand, and now you were tumbling in the sheets together.

you felt near to your climax and held onto him tightly. you kissed at the apples of his cheeks and moved against him, "you're amazing, lans."

he held tightly onto the covers, or else he was going to dig his hands into his hips. he picked up the pace a little bit more and captured your lips in another kiss.

you cupped his face and let him rut against you. you clenched around him and moaned into the kiss as you climaxed. you held onto the driver as he continued to thrust against you.

"shit." you moaned as you relaxed on the bed and clutched onto the white hotel sheets. you looked up at lando and smiled.

that only egged him to keep going. and the sight of your sweet face allowed him to finish inside of you. with a few heavy thrusts and he finished in a huff.

it led to more kissing, his arms wrapped around you. he whispered praises you could barely hear against your skin as you both soaked in the feeling of post-orgasmic bliss.

"you're perfect." he exhaled.

"i missed you, lans."

you get comfortable under the covers of the bed and could feel lando moving around to get comfortable as well. he laid next to you and felt comfort in your warmth.

as he laid with you, tangled up in the hotel room sheets. his nose in your hair with your head on his chest. maybe he'd find a way to get his little mechanic back, make sure she's really appreciated this time. <3

[cameronsbabydoll]

BASIC TRAINING — CHAPTER SIX

WARNINGS — Virgin fingering, degradation/praise mix, reader crying (pleasure), power imbalance, explicit sexual content, mild coercion, 18+ only.

The air in the supply closet smells like bleach and dust and Rafe’s cologne—a sharp, dangerous mix that makes your head spin. You’re not sure how you ended up here. Not really. One minute you were fetching printer paper for your dad’s office, arms full of reams, the next Rafe was behind you, his hand on the small of your back, steering you through a door you hadn’t even noticed was half-open.

“Careful, sunshine,” he’d murmured, his voice low, like he was warning you about a spill on the floor instead of trapping you in a room no bigger than a coffin. “Don’t want you tripping over something you can’t handle.”

The door clicked shut behind you.

That was ten seconds ago.

Now you’re pressed against a metal shelf, the edge digging into your hip, your breath coming in shallow little gasps. Rafe’s standing so close his dog tags brush your collarbone when he leans in. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his mouth is curved into that same smirk he’s been wearing since the day you stepped off that van. Like he’s won something already.

“You’re shaking again,” he says, voice almost gentle, but there’s an edge to it, sharp enough to cut. “You always this nervous, or is it just me?”

“I—I’m not nervous,” you lie, clutching the shelf behind you like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. Your sundress sticks to your thighs, the fabric damp with sweat. It’s too hot in here. Too small. Too much.

Rafe hums, unconvinced. He steps closer, one boot nudging between your sandals, forcing your legs apart just enough to make you gasp. His hand lifts, slow, deliberate, and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, tracing the shell, then dropping to your jaw, tilting your face up.

“Liar,” he whispers.

You open your mouth to argue—because you’re not, you’re not—but then his lips are on yours, and every thought in your head evaporates like water on asphalt.

It’s not soft. Not sweet. Not like the kisses you’ve imagined, the ones in movies where the guy cups the girl’s face and music swells. Rafe kisses like he’s claiming something, like he’s marking territory. His mouth is hard, insistent, his tongue pushing past your lips before you even know what’s happening. He tastes like spearmint and smoke and something you can’t name, something that makes your knees buckle.

You whimper into his mouth, and he growls—a low, animal sound that vibrates through your chest. His hand slides to your throat, not squeezing, just holding, his thumb pressing against your pulse. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his lips wet, his eyes burning.

“Fuck, you’re sweet,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Taste like goddamn candy.”

You’re dizzy. You’re burning. You’re still clutching the shelf, your knuckles white, your heart hammering so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “R-Rafe,” you stammer, because it’s the only word you know right now, the only anchor you have.

“Shh.” His thumb strokes your throat, slow and deliberate. “Don’t talk, sunshine. Just let me take care of you.”

You don’t know what that means, but you nod anyway. You’re not sure you could say no even if you wanted to. And you don’t. Not really. Not when his other hand is sliding down your side, fingers skimming the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress until cool air hits your thighs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the words hit you like a drug, warm and liquid, pooling in your belly. You’ve never been called that before—not like this, not with a voice that makes you want to kneel. You’re not sure what’s happening to you, but you know you don’t want it to stop.

His hand moves lower, dipping under the hem of your dress, and you freeze. Your breath catches, your eyes wide, locked on his. He pauses, watching you, waiting for you to pull away, to say something, to stop him. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re trembling, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something that makes your thighs press together, something that makes you ache.

“Relax,” he says, softer now, but it’s not a request. It’s a command. His fingers brush the inside of your thigh, light at first, teasing, then higher, firmer, until they’re grazing the edge of your panties. “You’re so fucking soft,” he breathes, like it’s a revelation, like he’s just found something he didn’t expect. “Bet you’re even softer here.”

You gasp when his fingers press against you, right there, over the cotton. It’s the first time anyone’s touched you like this, and it’s too much, too intense, too everything. Your legs try to close instinctively, but his knee is there, keeping them open, keeping you exposed.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns, his voice dropping lower, darker. “Keep ‘em open, sunshine. You don’t get to hide from me.”

“I—I don’t—” You don’t know what you’re trying to say. You don’t know anything except the pressure of his fingers, the heat of his breath on your neck, the way your body is betraying you, arching into his touch without your permission.

“Shh,” he says again, and this time his lips brush your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I know what you need. I’ve known since I saw you. All soft and pretty and fucking begging for it.”

His fingers slip under the elastic of your panties, and you choke on a sob. He’s touching you now, really touching you, his fingers slick against your skin, and it’s so overwhelming you think you might break. He groans when he feels you, low and rough, like you’re the one doing something to him.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking wet. This all for me?”

You don’t answer—you can’t—but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s moving now, slow at first, circling, exploring, like he’s learning you. You’re trembling so hard the shelf rattles, and you’re biting your lip to keep from making sounds, but it’s no use. Little whimpers slip out, soft and desperate, and he drinks them in, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth curved like he’s savoring it.

“Look at you,” he says, voice thick with something like pride. “Falling apart already. You ever touch yourself like this, sunshine? Ever make yourself feel good?”

You shake your head, frantic, embarrassed, and he chuckles, dark and low.

“Course you haven’t. Too fucking pure for that, aren’t you?” His fingers press deeper, one slipping inside you, and you cry out, your head tipping back against the shelf. It’s too much, too full, too everything, but he doesn’t stop. He moves slow, deliberate, curling his finger just right, and you feel something building, something you’ve never felt before, something that scares you and thrills you all at once.

“Rafe,” you gasp, and it’s half a plea, half a prayer. You don’t know what you’re asking for—more, less, stop, don’t stop—but he knows. He always knows.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your temple. “Say my name again. Let me hear it.”

“Rafe,” you sob, and he rewards you with another finger, stretching you, filling you, and it hurts a little but it’s good, so good, better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You’re crying now, tears slipping down your cheeks, not because it hurts but because it’s too much, too perfect, too him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, and his voice is unraveling now, like he’s losing control, like you’re doing something to him. “So fucking tight and perfect. Gonna ruin you, sunshine. Gonna make you mine.”

You don’t know what that means, not really, but it sounds like a promise, like a threat, like something you want more than anything. You’re clinging to him now, your hands fisting his shirt, your hips moving against his hand, chasing something you don’t understand but need, need, need.

“Please,” you whisper, and you don’t even know what you’re begging for, but he does. He always does.

“I got you,” he says, and his thumb finds your clit, circling it, pressing it, and you shatter. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt, like your body’s breaking apart and coming back together all at once, like you’re flying and falling and drowning in him. You sob his name, loud and broken, and he curses under his breath, working you through it, drawing it out, making it last until you’re shaking so hard you can’t stand.

When it’s over, you’re limp against the shelf, your breath ragged, your cheeks wet. Rafe’s still holding you, his fingers still inside you, slow and gentle now, like he’s savoring it. He leans down, kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips, soft and sweet, like he didn’t just wreck you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you whimper, because it’s those words again, that tone, that ownership. “So fucking good for me.”

He pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss, but he’s not done. He lifts his hand, slick with you, and presses his fingers to your lips. “Open,�� he says, and you do, because you’re his now, because you don’t know how to be anything else. You taste yourself, salty and strange, and he watches you, eyes dark, like he’s memorizing it.

“Say thank you,” he says, voice low, commanding.

You swallow, your voice hoarse, barely a whisper. “Thank you.”

He smiles, slow and satisfied, and pulls his fingers away. “That’s my girl.”

You’re still shaking when he steps back, adjusting his pants like nothing happened, like he didn’t just change you forever. He picks up the stack of printer paper you dropped, hands it to you, and opens the door.

“Better get back to your dad,” he says, casual, like he’s talking about the weather. “Don’t want him wondering where you are.”

You nod, numb, clutching the paper to your chest like it’s a lifeline. You step out, your legs unsteady, your dress crumpled, your panties damp. You don’t look back, but you feel his eyes on you, burning a hole through your back.

You make it to your dad’s office, set the paper down, and sit at your desk, staring at nothing. Your notebook’s open in front of you, the one Rafe returned, the one you’re too scared to write in now because you don’t know what’s real anymore.

You don’t know who you are anymore.

But you know one thing.

You’re his.

[lovlidollie]

i would lovelovelove to hear more about crybaby!reader n rafe’s relationship. like how does he calm her down? music? kisses? food?

as for dollie, does he indulge in her girly lil actions sometimes? letting her put makeup on him/letting her put glitter on him, letting her paint his nails, baking w her?

love this so much nonnie, pls let me know if you meant something else !!! cw; ddlg themes for crybaby!reader ^_^

for crybaby, i think the easiest way to calm her down is through words + physical touch. rafe’s aim is to try and get her into subspace mainly so that she doesn’t have to deal with big girl feelings for a while. he knows her tells; she shrinks into herself, her eyes glaze over and aimlessly float around the place. she can’t stop her fingers from gravitating towards her puffy lips, imperceptible whines leaving her when she realises they’re not rafe’s.

he keeps his touch gentle, hands soft against her waist and jaw, and he makes sure to keep eye contact. “does m’girl wanna come out, hm? dad’s lil’ girl? y’know he’ll take care of you. doin’ sooo well f’him aren’t y’baby, yeahhh that’s right! attagirl, there she is.” if the situation allows it, he’s pulling her into his lap, hands under her armpits to pick her up just like a baby. he’d place kisses along her hairline, rubbing her back ever so carefully, like she’s this close to breaking. when her chin start to tremble and her eyes water, rafe coos out, “need ‘em? need daddy’s fingers? gotta tell him, baby, how’s he s’posed t’know otherwise, huh?” she’s nodding furiously, tears sloping down her heated cheeks. she’s trying to be good and patient, trying to wait for her dad to give her what she needs. “open up,” he soothes, thick thumb trailing itself over the flesh of her bottom lip, into the warmth of her mouth. she sinks into his lap, eyes rolling back and tongue wrapping around him immediately. crybaby whimpers, drool sliding down his hand like water. she doesn’t even notice how she’s humping his leg, rubbing so deliciously against rafe’s cock. “shhh— shh ‘s’okay, sweetheart, y’doin’ soooo good. dad’s got’ya.”

— putting her in timeout also works suspiciously well … but that’s smth for another day …

with dollie, i think he scowls n scoffs every time she brings up doing his makeup; he’s got a very toxic sense of masculinity (learned behaviour from ward me thinks). he’s absolutely sick of finding glitter in every single part of the house and he tries to calmly tell her to maybe “tone it down.” her crestfallen face and disappointed pout were enough for him to take back his words though, so now he just deals with top or kelce pointing out the random sparkles on his shirts. i don’t think he’d let her paint his nails outside of just like a manicure and clear top coat, BUT he will paint hers. mainly because wheezie made him do it a lot when she was growing up, so now he’s got abnormally good skills. he’d definitely be the type to seek out the little initial that dollie gets on her ring finger, and if it’s not there he’s forcing her to take a seat so he can put it there himself. another thing he does, is if he sees something that even remotely looks like a makeup product she’d be into, he’s purchasing it immediately. for example, a glittery eyeshadow palette with only shades of pink? the store’s lucky he didn’t buy them out completely.

he does bake with her !! they have little baking dates in their pajamas where they decide on what they wanna make, and then rafe does all the measuring whilst dollie does the mixing. they have some music playing in the background, sometimes a nostalgic movie, and dollie just rambles about her day n what she got up to :3 it’s just so soft and domesticated and UGH. other times dollie doesn’t let him do anything, especially if he’s just come back from work. she makes rafe sit at the island and watch as she twirls around the kitchen creating something from nothing, just for him.

— if she’s been begging for months on end about doing his makeup, rafe would maybe, maybe indulge her on her birthday. just on the one demand that no glitter is involved whatsoever.

[mona-risms]

Rumi x Reader where Reader is a cursed deity that helps the hunters generations (through financially or become a manager once etc.) and finally meets Rumi after the defeat of the demon king. and Mira and Zoey are chaotic match makers

◆ MAIN COURSE: Rumi x cursed diety!gn!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: N/A

◆ NOTES: I LOVE RUMI SO BAD but also it's half 2 rn why did I stay awake to finish this bro........never letting anyone tell me I give up halfway in anything

Man. You musta done something to get cursed to be a manager for eternity 😭 joke but not actually joke. I can't replace Bobby man.......therefore INTRODUCING 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁 the A&R Manager role!!!!! This'll be one of the Only times my music diploma will Ever come in handy

For reference before getting into it (bare w me please let me ramble even though this'll never be mentioned about again), an A&R Manager kinda oversees a LOT of things. While a unit/artist manager like Bobby is mostly responsible for one/a few units at a time, an A&R manager's responsible for a HUGE range of things like scouting/signing/developing new talent, being a liaison for the artist and the label, overseeing the recording process, to even being aware of different trends and demographics so that they keep the popularity up with the label and its artists

Much as it is a role for them to be personally involved in basically everything, the fact that there's a lot to do most definitely makes it hard to really do so, which will explain why they wouldn't have really met each other this entire time until the defeat of the Gwi-Ma. Bc honestly let's be real there's no way HUNTR/X is the only unit in their label, just the most famous one........and the one trained to handle demon slaying lol

ANYWAY ONTO THE ACTUAL. THING

When Celine first came up to you about what the next generation of Hunters should be, you weren't necessarily surprised about her proposal that fully leaned into the flashfire that was K-Pop in the modern age. Once upon a time, it would've been more traditional forms of musical entertainment, but there's a reason why you were tasked to oversee 'trends' and such for the next generation to create the Golden Honmoon with.. and take on the world by storm, you supposed.

So seeing them for the first time?

..Yeah, this was definitely going to match up with the algorithm.

"Girls," you hear Celine introduce you as you bowed respectfully, "meet the A&R manager for DH Entertainment, several years your senior."

(An understatement, of course.)

Either way, you follow it up with a simple introduction at the same time as the trio bowed in reciprocation, "[L/N] [Y/N], a pleasure to meet the three of you. Former trainees now, yes?"

The one who piped up first was not only the shortest one, but was most likely the loudest one out of the three, "Yes!! We've been working so hard for this, so it feels like such a dream--"

"Right," you cut her off, though not unkindly, "though do remember that you're not just debuting as idols—you're debuting as Hunters, first and foremost. ..Though I doubt you three can debut without any names..?"

"Oh, oh!" The loud one piped up again with an endearingly playful energy, "So I'm Zoey, and the grumpy-looking one's Mira--"

"Really, Zoey--"

"Shh, it's okay, this is just, like, first-hand practice for when we have to MC on stage and--"

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. "Thank you, Zoey. I.. assume you're the leader, then?"

"If I may," Celine interjects, a slight humorous look on her face from watching the entire exchange, "you assume incorrectly."

"Really? Then who..?"

You see Mira nudge her head to the same person that Zoe ends up glomping from behind, "This one! Her name's--"

"Rumi."

The purple-haired woman spoke—or rather, breathed out—her own name, though she doesn't seem all there, if her expression was any indication. Her brown eyes were wide, as if she was witnessing, beholding, some sort of majesty (which, really, wasn't that much far off, though it's not as if it mattered anymore after so long). She stood stock still, as if suddenly unsure of how to act.

And it seems like the other unit members noticed too.

"..Rumi? You okay?" Mira nudged Rumi's side, "you're acting weird all of a sudden—what happened to your freakish proactivity?"

That seemed to snap Rumi out of whatever reverie she was in, scrambling to form a response, "OH! Shoot, uh, sorry! For staring, I mean, I just--

"Hmm? What's this?"

"Shut up, Zoey, let them talk."

"Don't worry about it," you waved it off with a kind smile and ignored the other two and their whispering. "So you're the unlucky leader?"

Rumi lets out a small snort of laughter before nodding, forgetting her initial awkwardness, "Yeah. Though I'd feel bad if I left them to anyone else."

"Hey!"

"Ha. Good luck with that—I've only had the pleasure of exposure for a few minutes, yet I can already tell they'll be a handful. And so will you."

"Wha-- what's that supposed to mean?"

You simply give her a smile as you stepped back, hands raised in a surrendering position, "It means I can tell that the three of you are going to give me a very hard time, just like the other generations before you."

Now it was Celine's turn to sound offended, though in no part did it seem genuine, "May I remind you who was on field again?"

"Was, dear." It was probably a hypocritical push-back, considering how you haven't been on field at all since being cursed, but alas, life wasn't fair.

So you quickly follow it up by patting away imaginary lint off your clothes before taking out your phone, "Now, as much as I'd like to carry this on, I've got enough work to break a mortal's back." And you pat Rumi's shoulder, which her cheeks tint the slightest pink in response, "Good luck, HUNTR/X. I'll be seeing you around."

And you let your hand slide down and drop to your side as you walked off, though you can't help but catch snippets of remaining conversation:

"You've got the hots for the manager. No way."

"I do not!"

"You froze, Rumi. I have never seen you freeze in front of someone new before."

"Cut it out!"

Idk I felt like I had to write out their FIRST introduction, bc honestly I can't see them NOT meeting you if you're in a high-up role, considering their importance

This DOES set things up though, bc they know they exist. But let's be honest it's probably VERY rarely that you two would ever happen upon each other, and even then it's probably in passing, for a few seconds type shit

You might be cursed to roam the Earth instead of actually be the deity of whatever it is you were supposed to hold domain over, but again. You're STILL a deity. So maybe after sensing that something is ABSOLUTELY WRONG, you manage to find where everyone's gathered, where the Saja Boys were performing, where Gwi-Ma had waited to devour all these souls before Rumi showed up, her half-demon heritage VERY out in the open now. Perhaps you even help them fend the demons off, either by boosting the power these souls had or outright using whatever power you had

I think after Gwi-Ma's banished, ever since you've been cursed, you've been in charge of cleanup. Erasing enough memories and proof to make the entire event seem like a Mandela Effect (you loathe how technology advances every minute bc there's THAT fucking issue too), structure reparation, everything. And THIS would be when you and HUNTR/X start interacting more

You'd probably most likely already know about Rumi's half-demon thing; you kinda had to be told by Celine ages ago for the sake of any possible damage control if, say, someome who shouldn't be able to see the markings see it. So when she asks you why you don't look shocked at all, it's because you're not. You've known what she is the entire time, and you don't really gaf. You're a cursed deity, why tf would you?

After the adrenaline wears off, she'd be back to oscillating between being SLIGHTLY awkward—because Jesus CHRIST she thought you were absolutely gorgeous then and she STILL thinks you're gorgeous now—and genuinely enjoying your presence, especially now that she doesn't really have to hide anymore (no thanks to Celine lmfao). Plus I think her newfound freedom opens up the actual excitement of learning about another supernatural entity that ISN'T a demon

Naturally, Zoey and Mira add 2+2 together and decide to meddle. Because honestly beyond the two of them, they know for a FACT that Rumi deserves happiness and acceptance from someone she genuinely likes. And considering you're there.......looking at her with those eyes............likeeeeee 😜😜😜😜 it's just basic girl math!!!!!

So it starts with them pushing Rumi towards you EVERY chance they get. You need to find new talent? Let Rumi help!!! You're going through recording? Oh suddenly the both of them have a cold oh noooooo Rumi will have to go on her own to record her own parts!! You're filling in paperwork? Oh em gee I wonder why we walked all the way here oh I think we left the oven on okay byeeee

It gets less subtle for them lol. They start asking Rumi how she feeeeeeels in so many different ways ("So is age and experience a thing for you?" "Wh--" "Just asking~! Jinu was like a few hundred, and [Y/N]'s been watching over several Hunter generations, so-- mmf!" "Eat your fries or so help me--"), and they even blatantly go up to ask you about preferences and stuff, even going so far as to just flat-out describe Rumi herself ("Purple hair and glowing demon marks; a turn-on or a turn-off?" "..Why?" "Just answer the question.")

Does it get you all closer? Yes. Does it also get you and Rumi closer? Yes, actually, but not just because of their wingmanning—both of you bond over the sheer exasperation at the VERY obvious attempts of playing matchmaker

The two of you probably eventually give in when you get individual messages from the other person about asking to meet at some secluded spot where you can see the stars really clearly without obstruction. How do you two give in, you ask? By just honestly going for it when the two of you realise that no, neither of you texted each other about meeting here and yes, this was absolutely planned by Zoey and Mira. You sit there on the picnic blanket that was mysteriously set up and kitted out with a vintage lantern from a some local goth shop and a basket of food, and the two of you talk personally: about your days; about how Rumi was handling being a demon out in the 'open' (aka humans can't really see it but supernaturals and Hunters can); about how and why you're cursed; about anything and everything

I don't think the two of you would kiss here, not on the lips anyway maybe the cheek ir the knuckle at MOST but otherwise nah. But it's the opening of something more, and when the two of you just lean on each other as you watch the stars, you can just hear a very faint shriek that sounds SUSPICIOUSLY like Zoey. But rn that's not your concern go back to your date 🙏

[whimsiwitchy]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 (part two)

Pedro Pascal x singer!reader

series masterlist & series playlist

summary: you're a hot singer that has hot older men falling at her feet. pedro becomes one of them. (literally my cyg hughxreader fic but for pedro)

warnings: age gap (23/49), use of y/n, swearing, sexual themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, verbal fighting, pedro is a smoker, cheating, Hugh Jackman is your ex (oops), he also pops up a few times and is mentioned, grammar is fake to me srry <3

warnings may change as the story progresses. all descriptions of real people in this story are fake! I don't know these people and this all for funsies. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: hi everyone! since part one and two are a little shorter, I wanted to go ahead and give you part two. i'm trying to figure out a posting schedule so once that's put together, i'll update the masterlist with the dates! Alsooo, there's an extras section on the masterlist where you can find random things such as a picture of the dress that was mentioned in this chapter!! okie enough yapping, enjoy!!

part two: sparkle in your eyes

London was beautiful. You’d always dreamed of coming here, seeing the historical sights you grew up looking at through photos and hearing the accents you’ve always wanted. The overcast reminded you of home. Of when a sudden storm would roll in, hiding the summer sun in an instant. You found it funny how the Earth was so big yet felt so small, similarities in different cities, countries, continents showing the truth behind what it means to be human. The thought grounded you when the fame felt too suffocating.

Fame

It was a word you were still getting used to, a word you weren’t sure if you loathed or loved. It made you feel distant and disconnected from the world around you, creating a barrier between yourself and every ‘normal’ person. The word was true though, you were indeed famous. You were known around the world for your music and people gave you a job through their endless support. Moments like yesterday were a reminder of just how different your life was now. Moments where Pedro Pascal came to see you after only meeting you once before, like he was a friend and not some insanely famous actor. He hadn’t left your mind since the interaction. It was honestly pissing you off. 

When you told Stacy that you wanted to take a break from men, you weren’t lying. You wanted nothing more than to focus on yourself and your career…but those dark brown eyes that sparkled when he smiled made it so hard to care about anything else. They were a hypnotizing color, a striking contrast from the bright blue eyes you looked into just a few months prior. Pedro was everything you found attractive in a man: tall, dark, handsome with a godly personality. His emotional intelligence was a trait you picked up on the moment you met him and it was refreshing to hear a man be so willingly open on important matters. 

“Helloooo…earth to y/n.” Stacy says as she snaps her acrylic adorned fingers in your face. “Are you gonna tell me what has you all spaced out or can I take a guess? Because I’m pretty sure his name starts with a P.” Her gum pops as she closes her glossed lips, a smirk sat smugly on her face. 

“Shh. Could you be any louder!?” The two of you were sitting in a cafe that was packed with people with wandering ears. You would have spilled every thought racing your mind if you weren’t so worried about someone listening to your every word. It was another aspect of fame you had to get used to. It wasn’t always bad. For instance, sometimes you could sit in a cafe with your best friend and other times you can’t even walk down the street without having a horde of people rush towards you. 

“Plus, I'm not thinking of him.” You say defensively. 

“Whatever you say girl.” The same smirk still sits pretty on her face before gently falling into a smile. “Anyways, I got tickets for the London Eye at 2pm. Then, I thought it would be nice to go grab lunch somewhere. I have a few places picked out-” You’re looking at her, nodding every once and a while to allude that you’re listening to her but you aren’t. Your mind is occupied by those stupid brown eyes again. 

—

The two of you didn’t end up getting on the London Eye at 2pm. There was a delay, causing a wait of an extra 45 minutes and Stacy was pissed. Other than the fact she was your assistant, she was also a lot more organized than you. She plans each trip you’ve been on, including itineraries for days you don’t have to work. She also has bad time anxiety. The smallest change in time has her stressed out, even if it’s off by a minute. Once the anxiety wears off, the anger creeps in. She complained at the latter end of the wait and would have had the king on the line if you hadn’t confiscated her phone until she cooled off a bit. Her mood was unchanged by the time you stepped into the private car. 

“If I tell you something boy related will it make you calm down and enjoy the ride?” You ask softly as you look down at the water, the wheel slowly moving the bubble higher. 

“What happened to swearing off men? I told you that you wouldn’t last that long.” She scoffs with a slight irritation in her voice but you can tell she’s itching to know more. 

“I know but Pedro had really bad timing so it’s not really my fault.” She’s quick to respond. 

“AHA! So you were thinking of him earlier.” The smirk from earlier makes a return and you’re pretty sure it would become a permanent part of her face from now on.

“It’s kind of hard not to when he came down a few floors down just to see me again.” You dramatically lean back and throw your forearm over your forehead. The poor attempt at acting like a damsel in distress earns a cackle from Stacy. 

“You’re insane.” She leans against the rail and looks at the view. “How’d you two even meet anyways? I feel like I would have been there.” Her brow lifts in confusion. 

“It was when you were sick and Hugh insisted on accompanying me to the sag awards when my song was in that one show.” Her eyes light up. 

“Ohhh yea. I do remember you telling me that. Didn’t you say he was drunk or something? I’m surprised he remembered you.” It’s your turn to scoff. 

“Drunk or not, who could forget a face like this.” Your hands shoot up to frame your face as you dramatically blink your eyes. Stacy rolls her eyes at the gesture. “But yea he was pretty drunk. He called Hugh my old man, which caught me off guard. I do remember him looking hot as fuck though. His stylist did him good with that look.” You nod, thinking about the white button up that was thankfully not buttoned up all the way, giving you a great view of his upper chest. 

“You’re such a slut.” She lets out a light laugh. 

“Am not.” You turn away from her to look at the view, the bubble finally reaching the top of the wheel. 

“You so are. You literally checked out Pedro when your boyfriend was right next to you and now that you’re broken up, you’re openly admitting that he’s hot. That kinda fits the definition of slut.” You know she’s joking but it stings nonetheless. 

“Whatever. I probably won’t even see him anytime soon so there’s no use in doting on the fact that he’s the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Stacy hums. 

“I think he might like you.” You glare at her.

“Stacy please don’t feed into my delusion right now.” She laughs.

“I’m not trying to but he was giving you major goo goo eyes yesterday. It was kinda gross.” She shakes her head. “And he followed you on instagram. I don’t know, but it seems like he might like you.” 

—

Turns out one of the places Stacy had picked out for dinner was one of the most prestigious and hard to get into restaurants in London. The reservation list was years long and impossible to get on. When Stacy told you about it, you ensured her that there were plenty of other places you two could go eat at that didn’t require a fight just for a seat. She wouldn’t listen though and insisted that she would make sure the two of you would get in. When she told you she got a table, you never asked how but now that she was calling the front of house to let them know ‘ms.y/l/n would be arriving soon’, you wish you would have. You hated having the status of your name to get you things.

You were sprawled out across your hotel bed as you waited for Stacy to finish getting ready. You weren’t very fashion forward and often opted for a simple look. You threw on a black a-line dress that had ruffled tulle down the middle. It was something your stylist helped pick out when you first started going to events and it quickly became one of your favorites. You opted for a bit of dark purple shimmer on your eyes and a small winged liner. After doing a quick touch up on your brows and throwing on a layer of mascara you were done, shying away from the full beat that Stacy was currently applying to herself. 

You were scrolling through instagram when your mind wandered to Pedro again. Before you could even think twice about it, your fingers were flying to the search bar and typing in his user name. Last night after you saw his comment, you were tempted to take a peek at his page but you knew it would keep you up all night. You didn’t have to scroll far into his page for your heart to start racing. There was a short gif-like video of him in his costume for Gladiator, twirling a sword around. You’re not sure how long you were staring at it, watching it, but you snapped out of your daze due to a loud noise that came from the bathroom. You feel something trickle down your chin and move your hand up to wipe it. Drool. You close the app and lock your phone in shame. You can’t believe you were actually drooling over an eight second video of Pedro. God you were pathetic. 

“Sorry about that, I dropped my blush and it went all over the place.” Stacy says as she exits the bathroom wearing a floor length dark red gown. “You ready to head out?” She asks, slipping on a pair of black heels. You nod and do the same. You both take a moment to look at yourselves in the large mirror that covers most of the hallway wall. 

“Mhm, we look good as fuck.” She licks her finger and makes a sizzle sound as she places the wet finger on the curve of her butt. You giggle and grab your phone from the entryway table. “Let’s take a pic for insta.” You say excitedly. You both pick a pose and you snap the picture, posting it on your story with a simple caption: ‘dinner time 😋’. 

One of the things you adored about Stacy is that she didn’t care about your status in the world outside of her job. She let you enjoy the simple things in life when it was possible. When you wanted to uber or take a taxi, she never complained. You got tired of always taking private cars when it wasn’t necessary, you craved normality. The uber ride to the restaurant was a quiet one, each of you staring out of your respected window, soaking in the reality of being in London. 

The restaurant was gorgeous with high painted ceilings resembling the ones found in the Sistine Chapel and you now understood why this place was so booked. Outside of the beautiful interior, the service and drinks were phenomenal. As the waiter was walking away from taking your food order, you sipped on a perfectly sweet martini. Stacy and yourself were making light conversation about a meeting you had with a brand when her eyes caught onto something behind you. 

“You’re not gonna believe who is walking over here right now.” Stacy says with a hint of mischief in her eyes. Before you can question her, there’s a familiar voice behind you. 

“Good Evening ladies.” There’s a warm hand on your bare shoulder and when you look up, Pedro is already looking down at you. 

“Hi Pedro, it’s funny running into you again.. or rather you running into me, I should say.” You joke and move a hand to meet him on your shoulder for a moment before both hands return to their person. “Oh! Pedro, this is Stacy, my assistant slash best friend.” You look over to Stacy for a moment. 

“Hi. It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you recently.” Stacy says while shaking Pedro’s hand. If looks could kill, the one you were giving Stacy would have made her explode. 

“Oh, have you now?” Pedro glances down at you and lets out a small chuckle. “It’s nice meeting you as well.” There’s a brief pause in conversation. 

“You know, I’m kinda offended that you just now followed me on instagram and not when we first met.” You regret your words as soon as you say them but your mouth always works faster than your brain. It earns a small laugh. 

“Hm, I should have then. Guess I just didn’t wanna step on anyone’s toes darlin’.” You want to ask him what he means but he’s already speaking again before you get the chance to. “Well, I should get out of your hair. I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi. It was really nice seeing you again…again.” He laughs after adding the second again, joking about the fact he said the exact same thing to you just over 24 hours ago. You blush. 

“It was nice seeing you again…again as well.” You add, letting your own laugh slip out. He gives Stacy and yourself a small ‘bye’ before returning to his table. Once he’s out of earshot, Stacy is quick to burst out laughing. 

“He’s so fucking into you. God…I mean he said he memorized your dress from your 15 second long story for fucks sake.” The tables close by give her a few rude looks from her outburst but you could care less, the realization of Stacy’s words settling in. 

The rest of the dinner was very tame, the food was good and you felt woozy from the martinis you’d been downing. Stacy let you know half way through the dinner that she had a perfect view of Pedro from her seat and that he kept glancing over every few minutes. It made you giddy to think that he might have been looking at you and if you begged Stacy to trade seats, that’s nobody's business. 

When you got back to the hotel, you immediately stripped from your heels and dress. Laying in bed, you opened instagram one more time and scrolled through all the likes on the story. As you scrolled nothing really caught your eye until you saw that username and the words from earlier rang in your ear. 

“I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi.”

You got up and went across the hallways towards Stacy’s room door in your shared hotel suite. You knock softly. 

“Hey Stacy…” Your voice is shy, feeling bad about disturbing her so late. 

“What’s up babe?” She’s leaning back on a mountain of pillows as she scrolls on her phone and eats a bag of chips. You lean into the doorframe. 

“What do you think Pedro meant when he said he didn’t follow me because he didn’t wanna step on anyone’s toes?” You had a feeling you knew what he meant but you needed a second opinion before you spiraled. Stacy smiles and laughs a bit. 

“Hugh, babe. He didn’t follow you because of Hugh. He didn’t wanna feel like a threat to your relationship.”

thank you for reading! feel free to leave feedback in a comment, private message, or in my ask box!

🏷️ : @moonangxl @brittmb115 @starsmoonn @mmkkzz @angellreads @daydreamzsworld @goldfish-987 @peacefangirl @leclerc13 @llsister @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @needz1nk @olympe-lottie @mielsonrisa @sexyvixen7 @thezoddfather @joelmillerpascal @mega-kittyglitter-1 @bluetimeombre @stvrl1ghtt123

*pls comment on series masterlist comment section to be added to taglist. comments on this post will not be added!*

[oaksgrove]

Hello! I’ve only recently gotten into call of duty and your blog has quickly become one of my favourites! I wanted to request if possible please a comfort imagine with John Price? (also my new fav lol) It can be whatever you want, whether reader’s hurt or just had a crap day or anything really

Please ignore this though if you don’t want to :) thank you and have a great weekend!

The Kind of Home

Pairing: John Price x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: After a quiet, crushing day, you retreat into the silence of your shared home, hoping not to burden the man who already carries so much. But John Price is not the kind of man who lets the one he loves face the darkness alone. With steady hands and a warm embrace, he reminds you that being yours means being there—on the good days, and especially on the hard ones.

Warnings: Emotional comfort, reader experiencing burnout/stress, gentle caretaking, hurt/comfort, soft domestic fluff, heavy emotional vulnerability

a/n: Thank you so much for your support, dear! John’s also my favourite, so I hope you enjoy this!

John knew something was off before he’d even stepped inside.

The porch light was on, flickering faintly in the evening drizzle, but the warm glow from the kitchen window wasn’t there. No soft silhouette moving behind the curtains, no scent of simmering soup or lavender and lemon candles—just silence, cool and unfamiliar.

He unlocked the door, eased it open, and stepped into stillness.

Boots off. Bag down. Keys in the bowl.

“Love?” he called gently, not too loud—just enough for you to hear if you were around.

The only answer was the hum of the fridge and the soft patter of rain against the windows.

His brows knit, a slow ache curling into his chest. He made his way to the living room—your phone on the armrest of the couch, abandoned. The blanket was tossed over the side. A half-cupped mug of tea sat on the coffee table, long gone cold.

That wasn’t like you.

His throat tightened as he turned toward the bedroom, every footstep more cautious than the last.

The door was barely open. He pushed it gently, revealing the quiet dark of the room and the shape of you in the bed—burrowed under the blanket, curled toward the wall, small in a way that made his heart hurt.

No music. No TV. No half-read book on your chest like usual. No lamp turned on with warm golden light waiting for him.

He moved to your side of the bed and crouched beside you. Close enough to see the tension in your face even with your eyes closed.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice low, fingertips brushing along the edge of the blanket. “You alright?”

You didn’t move. Not really. Just a slight press of your cheek deeper into the pillow, like you were trying to disappear into it.

John hesitated only a second more before he sat on the bed beside you and gently peeled the blanket back, just enough to see your face.

Eyes shut. Jaw tight. The kind of exhaustion that sleep didn’t fix.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

He reached out, brushing your hair back with quiet reverence. “You’re not. And that’s alright.”

You opened your eyes then, tears unshed but stubbornly there. “It was just… a bad day. That’s all. Nothing new.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he said instantly, so softly it made your throat ache. “You matter.”

You looked away, shame burning in your chest. “I didn’t want to dump it all on you. You’ve got enough to carry.”

His hand moved to your shoulder, grounding, warm. “You think I’d ever want you to go through something alone? Not a chance, love. You don’t have to pretend for me. Not here. Not ever.”

That was the breaking point.

The first tear slipped free, and you hated it, hated that you couldn’t keep it together. But John was already there—already gathering you in, easing you into his lap like you weighed nothing.

“Shh, hey. I’ve got you. Just let go.”

You clung to him, burying your face in his neck, and he wrapped you in his arms, a fortress of quiet strength and steady warmth.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“For what?” He kissed the side of your head, fingers stroking your back.

“For being… like this. For not having it together.”

“You don’t have to have it together all the time. You don’t have to be perfect for me.” He pulled back slightly to look at you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You just have to be mine.”

You blinked at him, tears falling silently. “But I didn’t even make dinner—”

“Darling,” he interrupted, utterly serious. “If you think I came home tonight hoping for dinner, you’re mad. I came home hoping to see your smile. And if I can’t have that today, I’ll hold you through the night until it comes back.”

You sniffled, pressing your forehead against his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” he said, voice raspier now. “Now come on. Let me take care of you tonight.”

He stood up with you in his arms and laid you gently back on the bed. Then he disappeared for a moment, returning with warm pyjamas, a cool glass of water, a washcloth to wipe your face.

He helped you change with soft hands, not saying much, just humming under his breath like he was soothing something wild and wounded inside you.

Afterward, he climbed into bed beside you, tugged the blanket over both of you, and pulled you tight against his chest.

“I’ll make your favourite breakfast tomorrow,” he murmured into your hair. “And we’ll go get those pastries from the bakery you like. Maybe take a walk. Or stay in bed all day, if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to do all that.”

“I want to. ‘Cause I love you. And I don’t just love the parts of you that are smiling and laughing. I love you when you’re quiet, when you’re tired, when you’re hurting. All of you, every day.”

That’s when you finally smiled—small and trembling, but real.

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your knuckles, one at a time. “Sleep now, yeah? I’ll be here.”

You let out a long, slow breath and tucked yourself under his chin, surrounded by the smell of him—smoke and spice and safety.

The kind of home you’d never known you needed until he gave it to you.

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[weeping-treee]

A Desperate Man- Part 10

Simon loves you. He's just scared to finally admit it.

All parts here

2,235 words

CW: 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.. 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲🫡

(Also, part 10 is crazyyy. Thank you all. I love you so much)

Discharge day. One you and the men have been looking forward to. Price already drilled Simon to take a leave so he can heal and reassess things.

So there he is—stepping out of the medbay, bandaged up, sling on his right arm from a light sprain, and gaiter pulled over his nose. His black hoodie hugs his imposing frame as he shakes his head as all four of you blow party poppers and celebrate something so small.

"Jesus Christ. You're all bloody idiots." He huffs, annoyed yet amused.

Price chuckles and steps forward. "Y/N offered to let you stay at her place during your leave. Can't have you moping around base that you can't do anything."

Simon's eyebrows raise as he looks at you. You just shrug and look at the mess of streamers on the floor.

Soap and Gaz step forward—Soap with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Try not to break her or her bed, yeah?"

Gaz crosses his arms and nods in agreement.

Simon scoffs, trying to downplay how hot his cheeks turn beneath his gaiter. "Fucks sake, Johnny, shut the hell up."

You roll your eyes and smack Soap on the shoulder before nodding towards the door. "C'mon princess, time to whisk you away."

He shakes his head, muttering as he walks by, "Fuckin' hell."

You chuckle and wave to the boys before following him. When you catch up, you look him over.

"You feelin' better?" you question—genuinely concerned despite the teasing.

"Been better, been worse." He murmurs lightly, glancing down at you as you walk side by side.

"Sorry about them.. and that I didn't tell you I offered to let you stay at my place. Figured you would've been stubborn and denied my offer."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I would've. Don't wanna crowd your space."

"You're the only person that can crowd my space without annoying me, Simon." You smile softly before holding the door open for him.

You two walk in silence to your car before you open the passenger side for him. "My passenger princess."

"Shut it." He mutters as he gingerly sits down. You watch him struggle with the seat belt for a moment before leaning over him and fastening it—making sure to kiss his head and chuckle at how grumpy his is needing help for everything.

You shut the door and round to the drivers side, settling in yourself and starting the car.

"My place isn't far. It's on the countryside so it's quiet—I think you'll like it. You'll have it to yourself most days since I'm gonna be here working. So make yourself at home once we're there. Relax for once, yeah?"

He hums softly in acknowledgement. Despite the weird feeling of being in your home... with or without you.

...

Once at your house, you help him out and unlock the front door—pushing the old, rickety thing in with a bit of effort.

"It can be a bitch to open sometimes. So if you wanna go out and it's being difficult, don't strain yourself, use the back door. There's a porch swing back there with a better view anyways."

You let him in and start to ramble—apologizing for the mess, the dust, the old smell. He doesn't understand why you're making excuses for every little thing. This place—your place—is the homiest home he's been inside in years. It's decorated nicely, all things screaming you.

Even if you're not home because of your time on base. The dust, the clutter—all things make it a home. Makes you even more human to him. More perfect... if that's even possible.

His eyes linger on the records on the wall above a turntable stand. Mostly rock and metal records. He smirks slightly at your music taste. The exact opposite of you. You're bright and soft-spoken, but your music taste is heavy and loud. Which makes him even more enamored with the enigma that is you.

He's so lost in taking in your world he doesn't even hear you still rambling.

"Shh. Quit talkin'. Quit apologizing. Nothin' to apologize for," he says, finally turning to look at you.

You stop the moment he tells you too, just looking at him with clothes bunched up in your arms that you had scooped up from the floor.

You stand there, still holding the bundle of clothes, just watching him as his words sink in.

Nothing to apologize for.

Your throat works as you swallow, unsure what to do with the softness of his tone. The sincerity behind it. You feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with the messy house or the dust or the clutter.

He steps toward you—slowly, carefully. Not because of his injury, but because something about this moment feels... delicate. Like if either of you speaks too loud, it'll shatter.

His voice is quieter now. “You don’t have to act perfect around me, y’know.”

“I’m not.” You huff a small laugh, but it lacks bite. “I’m a mess, Simon.”

He looks at you for a long moment. “Then I guess I’m in good company.”

The silence stretches. You feel it pulling at your ribs, your chest. His eyes flick to your mouth for just a second. Barely.

You step forward without thinking. Just a little. Barely a breath of space between you.

“I, uh…” You glance down, unsure, then back up at him. “You want help getting comfortable? In bed, I mean—not, like—God, I meant literally, not—”

He raises an eyebrow, and despite the stiffness in his posture, a low, rasping chuckle escapes him. “Bed sounds good.”

You hesitate—but only a moment—then turn and lead him down the short hallway to your bedroom.

He pauses in the doorway, taking it in. It’s personal. Your scent clings to the room. Soft fabrics, half-finished mugs, a hoodie draped over the back of a chair. It’s you, in every detail.

You help him sit on the edge of the bed. Help him out of his hoodie, careful of the sling. His skin is warm beneath your fingers.

His voice is lower now. More intimate. “You always take care of people like this?”

“No,” you answer, without missing a beat.

He looks at you—really looks. “Why me, then?”

You don’t answer right away. You sit beside him, not touching, but close enough he can feel the heat of you.

“Because it’s you,” you say simply.

That’s all it takes.

His hand finds yours.

His lips brush yours—not deep, not hungry. Just a gentle test. Like he’s asking permission.

You give it.

The kiss stays soft, careful. Hands remain still, just a shared breath, a shared knowing. The kind of kiss that says I’m not going anywhere. The kind of kiss that asks nothing but honesty.

When you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, and whisper—

“You should rest. You need it.”

But neither of you moves right away.

His thumb brushes your cheek. “Stay.”

You nod.

You don’t crawl in right away. You help him lie back. Pull the blanket over him. Turn the light off.

And when you do finally slide into bed beside him, you stay on top of the covers. One hand resting over his chest as you lay on your side and look at him.

He stares at the ceiling for a while. Like maybe the words are written there and he just needs to read them right.

You trace lazy circles over the blanket that rests across his chest, your fingers drifting in a pattern that’s more comforting than conscious. The silence isn't uncomfortable—but it’s charged. Like something wants to be said and neither of you knows how to say it.

His voice breaks the stillness, low and almost rough. “Y’ever think about… what this is?”

You blink, then shift your gaze up to his face. “This?”

He doesn’t look at you. Just keeps his eyes on the ceiling like it might collapse if he moves.

“This. Us. You stayin’. Me not wantin’ you to go.” He pauses. Breathes. “Feels like somethin’. And I’m not good at... this sort of thing.”

Your hand stills over his chest.

“I know,” you say softly.

He swallows hard. “I’ve seen a lot of shit. People leavin’. Dying. Disappearing without warning. I don’t... hold onto things. Never really learned how.”

There’s a long pause.

“But you,” he adds, voice lower now, “you’re in my fuckin’ head all the time. Even when I don’t want you there.”

You smile faintly at that. “You love me.”

He finally turns to look at you. Eyes serious. A little wide, like he’s realizing it at the same time you say it.

He huffs through his nose. “Didn’t mean to. It’s not... convenient.”

You laugh quietly, touched and amused. “Love never is.”

He shifts slightly, wincing as he does. “I don’t even know what to do with it. The word feels stupid when I say it. Doesn’t feel like enough.”

You meet his gaze. “Then show me. When you're ready.”

“I’m tryin’,” he murmurs. “But I’m scared shitless.”

Your hand moves from his chest to cup the side of his face, your thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “So am I.”

You shift, searching his eyes. “Is it... how fast it’s happening?”

He nods once. “We’ve only been on one date. You stitched me up, we kissed in the dark, and now I’m here—half broken—saying I love you.”

“And I’m letting you sleep in my bed,” you add, voice soft with humor. “Yeah. It’s insane.”

He nods, just barely. Lets his eyes close.

“Still mean it, though,” he says, so quiet you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth, gentle and sure.

“I know. I love you too.”

He lets out a breath like he’s been holding it for years.

And then—

“I’m not helpin’ with the dishes, or any of that shit."

You laugh, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “You’re such a bastard.”

His good arm shifts to wrap around you and pull you half on top of him.

“Your bastard now.” He teases, comfortably nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Where you both murmur light words and slowly fall asleep.

...

You wake before the sun. The light outside still blue and cold, but his body is warm beneath your cheek.

You’re still on top of the covers, his good arm looped around you loosely. His breath is steady, but his fingers twitch—like his dreams are restless. Like he's restless.

You shift slightly to look up at him, just to check.

His eyes are already open.

Watching you.

“Didn’t want to wake you,” he murmurs.

“You didn’t,” you whisper, voice still heavy with sleep.

Your hand drifts across his chest, tracing the edge of the blanket where it rests over his shirt. He’s quiet. Tense.

Like there’s something he’s been holding in all night. Holding himself back.

“I was thinkin’,” he starts, voice gruff, “about how I shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want to have you like this."

Your throat tightens. “Because you’re hurt?”

“Because it’s you, and you deserve better than some fleeting moment or a quick fuck."

“I want it to be you,” he adds, jaw tight. “But not if it’s just... want. Not if it’s just desperation. Or the adrenaline from all that shit we went through.”

You stare at him for a moment before softly speaking, "You think that's what this is?"

He doesn’t answer. Just looks at you like he’s scared of what you might say next.

So you lean in. Brush your lips against his.

Soft. Reassuring.

"Simon," you whisper, "This is so much more than that."

His hand drifts up, fingers brushing your jaw. He studies you like he’s memorizing the exact moment. Like if he looks hard enough, it’ll feel less terrifying.

“I want it to be right,” he says. “For you. First time we do this.”

You smile. “Then just be here. With me. That’s enough if you're not ready.”

He exhales hard through his nose, like he’s trying to breathe out a lifetime of tension. Like he's annoyed at the prospect of waiting.

Then slowly—deliberately—he sits up.

You reach for him instinctively. “Don’t strain—”

He lifts his arm and rips the sling off.

You sit up, speechless. All you can do is gasp his name, "Simon, don't—"

"It's just a damn sprain, doesn't fuckin' matter like you do." he mutters, reaching for you.

You're in his lap before you know it. Large hand find your hips, you barely have time to protest before his mouth is on yours—firm and deep. Still controlled. But hungry.

Starved.

He pulls back only slightly, forehead pressed to yours, breathing uneven.

“You tell me to stop,” he says, “I stop. No hesitation.”

“I won’t,” you whisper.

He searches your eyes. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You let him take the lead, though it’s clear he’s never done it like this before—this slow. This gentle. He touches like he’s afraid to bruise, kisses like he’s unsure how much of himself he’s allowed to give.

He trails kisses down your neck, lightly biting on your pulse point making you gasp.

"I'm not gonna break, y'know?" you say softly, running a hand through his hair.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. "Don't say that unless you're sure you can handle me." He grinds his hips up into yours, letting you feel exactly what you're doing to him.

You bite your lip. "Good thing I'm a fast learner."

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