#I got back into the habit of drawing small again

[tomahachi12]

Life’s sure got its Ups and Downs, eh, pal?

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[reidmania]

in between | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.

part one, part two, part three

summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.

warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader

an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.

‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’

<>

In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.

You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.

Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.

He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.

He refused to have that happen again, not this time.

You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.

Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.

“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.

“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.

He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.

You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.

“Do you?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.

“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”

He asked, and you smiled.

A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.

He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.

“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.

He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.

“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.

After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.

He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.

“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.

“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.

You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.

Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.

Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.

Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.

He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.

Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.

The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.

He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.

At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.

He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.

“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.

His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.

“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.

You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”

He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.

You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.

Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.

After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.

You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.

Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.

He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.

When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.

You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.

“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.

You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.

His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.

His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.

His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.

He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.

Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.

His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.

His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.

You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.

“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.

He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.

You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.

He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.

“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.

You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.

“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.

“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.

Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.

You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.

Neither were very good.

He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.

You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.

You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.

His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.

“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.

“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.

He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.

You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.

He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.

“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.

He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.

He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.

“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.

His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.

“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.

“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.

He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.

“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.

He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.

“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.

He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.

You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.

“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.

“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.

He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.

You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.

He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.

You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.

“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.

You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.

He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.

“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.

He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.

After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.

“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.

“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.

When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.

“Whats up sweetheart?”

You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.

His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.

“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.

You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.

He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.

He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.

[earlysunshines]

like you used to

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; angst

synopsis: it’s raining it’s pouring no old man is snoring and you've run into your ex-girlfriend (aka the love of your life) after a year.

warnings: reader used to have bad habits (smoking, alcohol) ; sana is a sweetheart ; reader is avoidant ; ex's to...? ; my attempt at angst, not my forte... ; anything else I didn't mention

a/n: hey! so all i do is lie (change my mind too often) anyways this one is short I just had a random burst of motivation :-p feeling edgy, don’t expect more this is spontaneous;-;

one thing about where you live is that there’s always unexpected surprises — in this case, the weather went from partly cloudy at 5pm to sudden thunder and lightning.

great.

no umbrella, a drenched shoulder bag, and soaked clothes cling to you as you dash for cover. when you finally find refuge at the bus stop, there’s another surprise waiting for you.

light brown hair dampened by the rain, a side profile more beautiful than flowers in bloom, and a soft smile that could captivate you for centuries: minatozaki sana.

“shit,” you mutter under your breath, running under the roof of the stop. 

patting down your blazer and pleated pants, sana turns and widens her eyes slightly. you meet her halfway, meeting her gaze and shrinking despite being a few centimeters taller. 

she gasps – almost. “y/n?”

“sana,” you tighten your jaw, feeling a knot in your stomach. “hi.”

“you’re drenched.” she points out the obvious, rushing to pull out a handkerchief in her purse. “come here.” she says, stepping closer. 

you flinch, stepping back a bit and sana frowns.

“it’s fine, it’s nothing.” you assure, feeling stiff in your place. “use it for yourself.”

“i’m not as soaked as you are.”

“it’s fine, sana.” you add firmly, clutching the strap of your bag and wiping water off your cheeks. 

even when you turn back to face the road, attempting to dry yourself with your wet blazer, sana continues to stare. you feel her eyes piercing through you, the same sweet eyes that would look at you like you were her world before you messed up. you want to shrivel up and disappear, every second beside her is grueling.

you make the mistake of glancing back at her again, she’s somehow prettier than two seconds ago – and after a year of avoiding her. 

sana’s wearing a white dress with a white cardigan on top; everything she has on is pretty damp, so you assume she got luckier and found cover quicker than you. she has on light makeup, nothing too crazy, but either way, she’d still have you staring. her hair – now slightly wet – is clipped up with a bow, making her look like some sort of princess. a small sigh leaves your lips as you break away from her.

“the rain won’t stop anytime soon, how will you get home?” she asks you, voice sweet and careful. 

“bus.”

“i heard they’re delayed for thirty minutes.”

“i can wait.” you reply, staring at the ground. “it’s nothing.”

she sighs, then steps closer to you and holds your wrist. she grabs your attention again, both your eyes meeting in eye contact that makes your heartache; she has that effect.

“y/n,” she stays sternly, “i called an uber ten minutes ago, you’re coming with me.”

“no i’m not sana.”

“yes you are.” her grip on your forearm tightens, making you gulp lightly. 

you stare at her through your overgrown, wet bangs that cling to your forehead, sighing softly. the handkerchief she had in her hand now draws closer to your face. she gently uses it to wipe away the water from your forehead, cheeks, and nose. her touch is tender, and her eyes focus intently on you, making your heart flutter in your chest.

surrender is your first option – your only option. 

“okay.”

–

sana’s apartment is as homey as you remember, the same couch you’d talk and makeout for hours on is still clean and fresh. 

she steps in first, kicking off her loafers and walking towards the kitchen island. 

“come.” she says, and you follow without a word, taking off your own shoes and hanging your bag up on the rack you used to.

you follow and sit down at the chair she’d used to sit at when you cooked for her, playing chef and cracking stupid jokes as you fixed her a simple pasta. her place used to be a haven from whatever you had going on, but now it’s dissolving you with every second passing by.

sana disappears for a moment, giving you a brief respite. you take this time to try and recompose yourself, staring at the marble counter in front of you. despite your efforts to push them down, memories you tried so hard to lock away from the light resurface, flooding your mind and making your heart ache with their intensity.

“here,” you jump at the soft sound of sana’s voice, looking up to see her handing you a towel – your towel.

“thank you.” grabbing it, you pat yourself down. sana hands you shorts and a t-shirt, also yours. 

“you never came back to get them.” she mumbles, sitting down next to you and searching for something in your eyes. “you know that?”

“i do.”

“mhm.” she looks even deeper, twisting you from the inside and out. “you should change.”

you nod.

–

by the time you finish changing, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror for a moment too long, lost in a brief moment of reminiscing. shaking off the memories, you finally return to the kitchen, feeling all too much at once.

there’s a candle lit and hot ginger tea on the counter in sana’s favorite mug. she’s leaning against the counter near the stove, staring at her own cup.

you sit down and place both hands on either side of the mug. sana hums softly, “you should drink some, you’ll get sick.”

“it’s fine, i’ll get going soon anyway.”

“no you won’t.”

“and you’re the one who’s in charge of that?”

“stay the night, it’s not like you haven’t before y/n.” she sighs, looking at you with hurt in her features. “besides, i won’t let you go back. if you do, i know just seeing me will prompt you to drink and drink, maybe you’ll even light a cigarette or two if you’re sober enough to pull them out the pack.” she spits, sending a dagger through your chest.

you try to respond, but your throat dries up in the process. instead, you take a sip of the tea, not uttering a single word.

the air is weighed down with a palpable tension, like the elephant in the room sits on top of you two.

she sets her mug down, then walks over to lean against the counter in front of you, watching your head hang lower and hands run to the back of your neck.

“i’m sorry.”

“you should be.”

leaving with nothing but a note, a text, and then blocking her? sana deserves more than a sorry, but she’s grateful that you’re muttering it at all.

“i couldn’t face you.” you feel your throat closing in on itself again. “i don’t want you to be stuck on me.”

“y/n, i love you, nothing is ever going to change that even after you ghosted me.”

the whole reason you did all of that was simple: you’re an insecure, avoidant coward.

sana was and still is set up on a pedestal, one that would take lightyears to climb. she's beautiful, cunning, charming, and caring. you had never known anyone as loving as her. it was dangerous having a person so cozy and warm jump into your life when you've always been so cold and uneasy.

two years with sana were enough to create memories that would make you smile just thinking about them, but they could also send you into a spiral.

lingering in your mind were thoughts screaming for you to leave her, insisting you weren't enough and that she would be better off without you. it wasn’t jealousy of anyone else, you were too clouded with your flaws to care about that; it was the belief that you should dig yourself into a ditch so sana would realize she shouldn’t waste her time on someone like you.

she witnessed your moments of weakness. once a month, you'd drink until you couldn’t formulate a thought, and smoke to avoid confronting your problems and the personal hassles you hid from her. the monthly occurrence turned into a bimonthly thing, and then weekly nearing the end of your relationship. and still, sana would be by your side each time, making sure you were okay.

you were an asshole, and you had to pry yourself away from her somehow.

“just give up sana.”

“y/n,” you feel hands on your cheeks, cupping them and tilting your head up to meet her face sculpted by the angels above. “stop that.”

your brows upturn. “you stop that.”

“i’m not doing anything.”

“that’s the problem.”

sana rubs your cheeks like she used to, her long nail just barely grazing your skin in the process. you sink in your place, eyes avoiding hers.

“we don’t have to talk about it now, but stay. i want you safe, even if it’s just for tonight.”

“don’t do this to yourself, you’ll only hurt more.”

“there’s nothing that hurts more than knowing you’ll have a fever, it’s okay.”

without warning, she leans in, hugging you softly. sana’s warmth and softness envelop you, and you feel like you’ll freeze her, turning her rigid with your coldness.

sana feels your body go stiff, but when she rubs her back, you’re already sinking into her. she’s spent time to take care of herself, but nothing beats the way she cares for you, or just the feeling of being with you.

you had your flaws, but sana saw right past them and into your heart.

even if you didn’t think it, you were sana’s rock. sweet and caring, a sight for sore eyes, and the warmth she needed after a long day. she could talk to you about anything, and you’d be there to listen and soothe her worries, your smile easily easing the tension in her shoulders.

after countless tries (well, two, because sana couldn’t see anyone but you after that setup with momo’s friend on a whim), she had accepted that no one else could fill your spot in her life.

she feels tears soaking the material of her t-shirt, hearing you sniffle lightly into her.

sana pulls away, holding your face again. she looks at you with a mix of pity, regret, anger, and sorrow, maybe a little relief too. you’re back with her, she’s unsure of whether or not you’re still as vulnerable, but it doesn’t matter.

“it’s okay.”

“i’m an asshole.”

“you are,” she agrees, then wipes a tear from your eye. “but everyone has their reasons.”

she lets you stain her shirt with a few more tears before gently coaxing you to join her on the couch. it will take a long time to rebuild what you once had, but sana is willing to try, and you are too—especially when she holds you close, her hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

you’ve always thought you didn’t deserve her. 

but sana won’t let you let go so easily. she refuses to back down without a fight, and neither will you – not this time.

[phebbsl]

Warm You Up

I was writing another fic but this popped into my head, oops.

Just a small thing on the different ways that cockwarming SDV Sebastian would go, according to my brain. Not super smutty but it is nsfw, it's more fluffy imo.

Not proofread, lmk if there's typos.

Sebastian x GN!Reader

content: fluff, nsfw, cockwarming

MDNI AND BLANK BLOGS!!

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Cockwarming was not something Sebastian saw himself doing. Not that he was opposed to it, but he never really had a partner to suggest the concept to. It seemed like it would be more frustrating than anything anyways. 

But it’s become something of a routine for the two of you these days. It wasn’t really something either of you had planned on either, it just happened. 

He hasn’t officially moved in, but he might as well have, with the amount of time he spends at the farm. He walks over, taking his daily smoke break on the trail to your place instead of by the lake or the train station. If you aren’t home yet, he takes the time to pet your farm animals or sit on the bench outside, admiring the hard work you’ve put into the land. And when you do arrive, the two of you make dinner, passing little questions about each other’s day. The two of you eat over bed trays perched on each lap so you can watch something on your old laptop on your bed, quiet hums and speculations interjecting shows or movies. It’s not exciting, nor is it boring. It’s just...peaceful. Domestic. Something he hasn’t really experienced at home in, maybe ever? Perhaps that’s why he finds himself at your place so often. He’s never been the one for daring, passionate relationships anyways, not that this lacks passion. It’s a just nice warmth that cradles the need he has inside him, and he feels so understood by you, something else that’s severely lacking in his life. 

And when you’re both craving some intimacy beyond a good cuddle, but too tired after craning over a keyboard or from whacking down trees/pulling weeds/monster hunting and whatever else you do, you’re so impressive, he thinks, he’ll pull down his pants so you can slide onto his cock. 

The first time was an accident, he’d pulled an all nighter, and almost didn’t even come over. But he missed you more than anything, and craved your touch, only to fall embarrassingly asleep when you got on top of him. He was mortified, barely looking you in the face when he woke up the next morning and realized what happened, but you just shrugged and said it was okay. You teased him about it after too, of course.

But it happened to be the best sleep he’s gotten in ages, and when he asked to try it again, you just obliged and now it’s just a part of your relationship. 

You fall asleep to kisses and hands roaming your body, curled up around each other in a way that satiates the loneliness he feels in himself. And then in the mornings, when it’s too early, the sun barely up, you coax him out of bed by riding him until he spills inside you with breathy whines. Pleased smiles are shared over breakfast and a kiss on the forehead before he goes back home.

Other times, when it’s raining in the mornings, and he’s already in his head, he wakes you with hard, desperate thrusts, drawing orgasms and moans from you until the dark thoughts go away. Luckily, you take the rainy days easier, allowing the two of you to stay in bed longer. He takes care of you then, apologizing for the way he treated you, not that you ever mind, and it almost always leads to another round. It's sweeter, tender. You whisper reassurances then, cupping his face and he kisses your brow. 

It starts happening outside of the farmhouse too now. On particularly boring days, you’ll visit him as he’s working, and while you take his job seriously, it’s become a habit to slide into his lap, a sly look on your face as you work on loosening his jeans before sinking down on him. You love the way he groans, head falling back and eyes rolling into his skull as he splits you open. His hands always fly up from his keys, gripping your waist until he remembers he has a job to do. And you stay there, peacefully drowsy until it’s finished, and then he bends you over the bed or couch. You stay the night, not leaving his room, sneaking out in the early morning after one too many knowing looks and comments from Robin afterwards. 

Sometimes, it’s when he’s playing games. Curled up in his lap again, back against his chest so he can rest his head on your shoulder to look at the screen. He twitches inside of you whenever the game gets intense, hips fucking into you as if it’s by reflex. It only makes him play worse, because then he’ll get lost in the feeling of your warmth around him. He passes the mouse for you to take over so he can focus on thrusting into your sweet spots, a hand on your hip to keep you stable and the other on your jaw, turning your face to kiss him  before urging you to focus on the game. 

Occasionally, you get impatient faster than he does, unexpectedly moving or adjusting on his lap throughout the game, making him moan straight into the mic. You give him an innocent look while he glares at you, making excuses to the other players. It repeats until you start moving your hips, bouncing up and down until he breaks. He doesn’t even try to win the game, just pushes away the keyboard and mouse so he can take you right on the desk. The fact that all his teammates could catch on turns him, and you, on more than it should. He rams into you, crooning dirty words, teasing hands never helping you finish until you’re crying and begging him for it. He always cums with the loudest, drawn out sounds, hips still moving until he’s too overstimulated to continue. He pulls you back into his lap with a chuckle and another kiss, ready to move to the bed for a cuddle until—

“Goddamnit Seb! You forgot to mute again!” 

He’s gonna have to apologize to Sam tomorrow. 

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Lmk what you guys think/which way is your fav hehe

[wileys-russo]

leah williamson - "you got a what piercing!?" really cheeky reader cause that's so youuu

something silver II l.williamson

it had taken all of your self restraint not to tell leah when you'd first thought of the idea, egged on during a night out with school friends when it was first floated.

you'd always had trouble keeping things in when you knew it would make someone happy. you'd spoiled nearly all of your anniversary presents purely from being unable to withhold from seeing the way leahs eyes lit up when you told her what she'd be receiving.

but you'd held your tongue and done your research and your girlfriend was none the wiser. the surprise in question was a new piercing and as much as your excitement peaked right up until the day of your appointment, reality was swift.

in the sense that it fucking hurt.

you almost broke your best friends hand who offered to go with you, the poor girl grunting in pain but putting up with it having had hers done last year so knowing all too well what you were currently experiencing.

but then it was done and you were being driven home, your best friend buying you ice cream on the way as you grabbed something for leah knowing she'd just be home from training when you arrived.

and sure enough her car was in the driveway as you made your way to the front door, tugging your jumper tighter around you and grateful you'd not worn anything tighter fitting just yet.

"lee? i'm back!" you sung out as you let yourself in, glancing around with a frown when nothing could be heard back, but then an all too familiar bark of laughter sounded from outside and you followed the source.

your girlfriend was sat on the back deck, lounging in a sun chair with her training gear on and her phone pressed to her ear, clearly chatting away with someone quite happily as you left her to it.

you instead busied yourself putting away the groceries she'd brought home with her at your request, almost done when you heard footsteps sound back into the house and a moment later arms wrapped around you.

as cute as this normal habit was as leahs hand brushed your new piercing you hissed, the blonde retracting instantly at the noise as you spun around and met her furrowed brows of concern.

"i'm okay!" you promised, cupping her face and bringing her in for a soft kiss of reassurance, leahs hands falling to your hips and drawing your body closer. though again as your chest pressed against hers you made a strange noise and recoiled.

"okay no. babe whats going on?" leah questioned, frown etched into her features as you sighed. "go sit on the sofa, i'll be in in two seconds." you nodded over her shoulder as the taller girl gave you a funny look.

"two seconds, promise. go!!" you pushed her shoulders with a small laugh as she huffed but did as you asked none the less, putting away a few things and ducking off into the guest bathroom to make sure everything was sitting correctly.

with a satisfied nod you followed after leah who was sat on the sofa with her head buried in her phone, but as soon as you joined her it was tossed to the side and an eyebrow raised curiously in your direction.

"so i did something today, and it means i have both good and bad news." you started, leah nodding for you to continue as you sighed. "so. bad news first, we won't be able to kiss for a week or so-" you started, leah sitting bolt upright and opening her mouth to argue as you held up a hand and she fell silent.

"-because i got a tongue piercing." you finished, leahs eyes widening in shock, clearly not having anticipated those words leaving your mouth. "you got a what piercing?!" leah spluttered out as you nodded with a smile.

"tongue. but while it heals we're not allowed to kiss and i have to eat soft foods and-" you started to list off as leah firmly shook her head. "nah nah you're messing with me, babe there is no way you got a tongue piercing. you're scared of needles! you fainted when you got your flu shot!" leah scoffed in disbelief.

"i really did." you nodded, barely able to blink before leah was stood up in front of you, hand clasping your jaw. "show me." she ordered clearly trying to pry your mouth open making you laugh and shove her away.

"leah!" "no, show me!" "get off you idiot!" you laughed as she almost tackled you down to the couch, squeezing either side of your jaw as you rolled your eyes but opened your mouth causing her scowl to deepen.

"liar. why would you lie to me like that!" leah huffed seeing your very much hole free tongue. "well thats the good news." you grinned, pushing her away and standing again, though this time right in front of her.

"the good news is that you didn't get a tongue piercing and aren't withholding kisses from me?" leah rolled her eyes as you shook your head. "no, i did get a piercing today." you announced as leah sighed, leaning back into the sofa clearly assuming this was another rouse.

"what? your cli-" "leah!" you cut her off with wide eyes, cheeks flushing red as she only shrugged and you kicked her gently.

"no. these!" you took her again off guard as you lifted up your jumper, revealing the two brand new rings settled into your nipples as leahs jaw slackened and almost hit the floor.

"jesus christ." the girl exhaled shakily, eyes locked onto your chest making your proud smile widen. "why wouldn't you just...lead with that." leah mumbled shaking her head, eyes never moving as you shrugged.

"more fun that way." you grinned cheekily as finally leahs eyes flickered upward to shoot you a playful glare. "well come here then, let me inspect properly." you squealed at her hands grabbing at the waistband of your pants and pulling you down onto her lap.

but right as her hands moved you took them in yours and pinned them to her side with a shake of her head. "nuh uh, no touching until they heal." you warned as leah groaned and threw her head back. "seriously? thats just cruel." the blonde sighed as your grin grew.

"patience williamson, i know thats not your strong suit but lets consider this a learning opportunity." you teased, squeezing her hands still locked with yours. "but they are-" you leaned in so you spoke right into her ear.

"-very, very, very sensitive." you whispered, kissing her neck and retreating though right as she let out a quiet groan and leaned in to properly kiss you you were off her, pulling down your jumper and leaving her almost falling off the sofa as she kissed empty air.

"fine. how long do i have to be patient for then? wicked woman." leah sighed, following after where you disappeared to the kitchen, handing her a recovery shake from the fridge as you grabbed out a water for yourself.

"three to four weeks until you can play with them." you answered casually right as leah took a sip, though clearly that was a mistake as the girl choked and you gasped as she did a partial spit take.

"leah catherine!" you growled, face flecked with shake as the blonde covered her mouth and quickly put down the half chugged shake. "baby i am so-" you held up a hand with closed eyes and she fell silent, covering her smile with her hand.

"i am going to shower." you warned, opening your eyes to glare at her as you stormed off but didn't hear her footsteps follow after you. "well are you coming?" you paused by the door to ask, raising an eyebrow as the blonde scurried to catch up almost tripping over herself in her haste.

"oh no no, you're coming with me." you warned, hand to her chest stopping her from pulling her top off as you quickly stripped off your jumper feeling your ego rise from the way leahs cheeks heated up and her eyes dropped right to your chest.

"but i thought-" "no, patience remember? so you can sit and look, but you don't get to touch." you turned around with a satisfied grin as leah groaned loudly but dropped to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet, chin resting on her hand with a scowl as you stripped off properly and stepped into the shower.

"this is going to be the longest month of my life."

[munivrse]

Takeout (on me)

tall sexy dancer gf! bada lee

cw: pussy whipped bada lee taking you in several different positions. cannot get enough of the noises you make and how good she makes you feel. good god.

a/n: i am so sorry for the filth that follows. free claim for a place in heaven!

your back arched as bada's hands ran down your sides, stopping to squeeze at your waist.

"please bada."

both her hands continue their journey down your body, spreading your legs to make room for her. she stands above you at the edge of the bed, hands massaging at your thighs, just shy of where you really want them.

"you look so pretty like this baby."

she wraps your legs around her waist and leans down to you, one hand by your head, the other rubbing up and down your thigh. she presses her lips against yours. it starts out so sweet. her lips ghosting against yours, kissing you and pulling back when you move in for more. but something switches in her when you moan into her mouth. the hand on your thigh moves up to squeeze your waist, the hand by your head grasps your hair and pulls. she bites your bottom lip, waiting for you to open your mouth. she licks her tongue against yours, groaning as she grinds against you.

"so fucking good for me." bada presses kisses in between each word. her brows furrow as she grinds harder against you, deepening the kiss by gripping your hair. you gasp, hands grabbing onto her shoulders,

"feels so good baby." your hips grind up into hers.

bada stops kissing you in favor of watching you move. you're so fucking hot. she loves the way your eyes flutter each time you meet her in the middle. your nails feel so good through the fabric of her flannel. she wants to take more from you. make you moan louder.

"fuck. fuck baby, stop." she draws out, hand letting go of your hair. she sits back up, taking a look at how flustered you looked. she's sure she looked nearly the same,

"tell me what you want, baby." bada's free hand, that was previously gripping your hair, dances down your stomach and cups your cunt. she lets you grind against her hand for a bit, enjoying the small gasps you were letting out.

"c'mon baby. tell bada what you need."

you open your eyes and bada's are peering down at you. the breath leaves your lungs as her fingers dance around your clit.

"want you to fill me up- please."

bada's eyes close. she needed to make you feel good. needed to see you fall apart against her.

"so polite," she bends down to leave a short kiss on your lips, "whatever you want, angel."

bada grabs her strap and watches as your eyes sparkle. she chuckles a bit. she's made a habit of wearing a harness underneath her pants as you've just been so needy lately. your hands reach out to help her, but she swats at you. she makes you watch as she puts it on. your head spins as you take in her appearance. she's got a loose flannel on, grey cargos unzipped just enough to account for the cock strapped to her, and a messy bun to complete her look. her bangs are starting to stick to her forehead and she's nearly panting.

she makes her way between your legs.

bada leans down and kisses you again. its so much sloppier this time. teeth and tongues clashing and when bada comes up for air, theres a line of spit between the two of you,

"open your mouth."

you comply, mouth opening almost immediately at the command. bada sticks her thumb inside and you instinctively close your mouth around it. bada kisses her way down your neck. she stops just above your collarbones and mouths over the area. she feels you take a deep breath as she sucks a mark into you. she bites at the skin first, makes her mark, and then tongues around the area, pulling away to lightly blow cool air. she loves to watch the goosebumps on your skin.

once she's done enough damage to your neck, she switches her attention to your chest. she takes a nipple into her mouth and groans. she fucking loved your tits. she pulls away with a pop,

"so good for me hmm?" she smirks against your skin when you whine against her thumb. she removes her digit from your mouth.

"'m good for you- your good girl- fuck." you moan out as she grinds her strap against your core. you try and pull her closer and she pulls away from you,

"say please." she teases, one hand takes the silicone cock and fucks just the head of it into your pussy. your back arches,

"please. please fuck me."

bada grins again, wordlessly sliding into you in one swift thrust. she revels in your gasp. she pulls almost all of the way out and grinds back into you. her hips are like water as the fluidly go back and forth. her hips stutter when she hears a particularly loud moan, making sure to grind up into that spot.

she wraps a hand around your neck and lightly squeezes, "you like it baby? you like when i take you like this?"

you respond by pulling her back down to your lips, she meets you in a messy liplock.

"deeper- please baby go deeper." you whine, hands grabbing at bada's back. she pulls out until only the head of her strap was left and pushes back into you. you inch up the bed at how hard she was fucking you. her hand comes to cradle the top of your head, making sure you never hit the headboard.

"what happened to my sweet y/n? huh?" she pulls out and slams back into you, "when you could barely ask me to kiss you, now you're begging for me to go harder, deeper." her eyes bore into yours, "you're just a needy little thing, arent you? "

your eyes water. she was fucking you too good. one hand cradled your head and the other was grasping onto the sheets to steady herself. you could feel her in your stomach and it made you lightheaded. fuzzy. you wanted her to crawl into your skin and stay there.

she taps your cheek, bringing you back to reality, "am i fucking you too good baby? mmh? or does my pretty girl need more?"

you whimper, murmering out a quiet "please" and bada takes this as an enthusiastic yes.

she leans back, the hand covering your head smoothes down your stomach and she leans back onto her feet, one hand going behind her for support. she fucks up into you, and in this position, she hits your g spot perfectly with each thrust. you also get a view of your girlfriend getting lost in your sounds. she's got one hand pressing on your lower stomach, her hips roll into yours. her bun coming nearly undone, stray hairs falling into her face. and- oh- she just put her shirt in her fucking mouth. her brows are furrowed, forehead creasing at how much she's focused on making you feel good.

your body lights up, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your hands grip the sheets behind you and bada's groaning out with each thrust as if she's fucking her own cock into you. she thinks she could cum like this. fucking into you, watching and hearing you getting mindfucked into oblivion. she fucks you like she wants you to only know her and the way she languidly rolls her hips into your own.

you were so upset earlier about how she acted in front of her class today. she put on a show for them, showed them something only you were supposed to witness; to feel.

what she doesn't tell you is that she imagined you under her the entire time.

so now she's imitating exactly what she was doing to that floor, this time, with a partner.

she knows you're about to cum when your eyes become hazy and unfocused. she cant help but be selfish in the moment. she wants to feel you cum. she wants to be the one making you feel this good. she wants to feel you clench around her, grip at her hair, shove her closer to your aching cunt. so she does what any sane person does and pulls out.

you don't even have the time to process being empty, bada yanks you by your legs to the edge of the bed and gets on her knees.

"wanted to feel you cum," she grabs the back of your thighs so that your knees are against your chest, a certain anklet dangling dangerously by her ears. she spits on your pussy and dives right in. she licks a stripe up between your lips, a stuttered moan leaving her mouth. she presses soft kisses to your sensitive clit, one hand coming down to rub at your opening.

your knees knock together, trapping bada in between your thighs,

she flicks her eyes up, "spread your legs."

you relax them a bit.

"gonna make you cum in my mouth. wanna feel you."

she inserts two fingers into you, scissoring you open. you're so wet that she can hear squelching sounds as she pushes them in, pulls them out.

she wraps her mouth around your clit and sucks. that does it for you. your back arches and the only thing keeping bada's head getting squished between your legs is her arm holding your knees to your chest. a hand flies to her head, grasping her hair. your toes curl and you feel your stomach coil up in expectation. bada's fingers fuck you through it. her mouth not leaving where you've needed it most.

bada's eyes roll to the back of her head. she could barely fucking breathe and if she were to go out, theres no better place than between your legs.

as you come down from your high, you had to physically push bada from your weeping cunt. when she lets up, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glazed over. she crawls on top of you and forces your mouth open by pushing on your jaw. she spits in your mouth and leans down to swap your own wetness between each other.

you both pant as bada releases you, smoothing your hair down and chuckling,

"you still wanna switch places with the floor?"

[green-typewriterz]

Are You looking?

Art Donaldson x fem!reader

Ask: none

summary: the reader isn’t watching, and Art needs her to look. He needs to be near

Warnings: 2000s outfits, language, cringe if your easily embarrassed, kinda toxic but it’s challengers what do you expect

Words: 2066

Art was sitting on the side of the court, hands fiddling with the strings of his racket. He had been trying to get this same drill right for the past twenty minutes and had yet to succeed. You stared at him, smiling to yourself at how red his face got when he was annoyed. “I’m never gonna get this right.” He said, almost to himself.

You nodded and he looked over, irritated as you spoke, “maybe.” He stood, gripping his racket tight in his hand and went to walk away. “Go on.” You continued, “do what you think you want to.” Your voice was calm, face still and mocking. He stopped in place, still not facing you.

”Do you always treat people like this?” He asked, turning to face you now. You shrugged, not really offering a proper reply. Your eyes flitted toward the court then back to him. He sighed and moved toward the centre of the court, running the movement again.

The movements were much more fluid this time, the racket swishing easily and quickly through the air, but he wasn’t concentrating. Every so often, his gaze would flicker to you, he wanted to know that you were watching. You leaned back in your chair, a habit you picked up when watching Art play and stared upward, no longer focusing on his practice - something you knew he’d notice.

His movements faltered as he saw you look away, nearly stumbling over his feet. He groaned in annoyance and shook out his arms, going to try again, though he was more so trying to get your attention than get the drill right “Again.” You spoke, voice tired, you looked back at him for a moment, but only up until he started the drill.

He tripped up again, eyes drawing away from the footwork he was meant to be practising. Art’s focus is entirely on you, grip on his racket tightening. It was misstep after misstep at this point, something you had grown tired of. “Ok stop. You’re done.” He stops, sighing tiredly and turning to face you. How could you even know he had messed up, you weren’t even watching.

Without another word, you stood and walked away, leaving Art standing irritated in the middle of the court. He didn’t stay still long however and, after a moment of watching after you, followed. He stayed behind slightly, eye’s following your every move. You leaned against your car, pushing your hair away from your face gently.

”I can feel you lurking.” You said, continuing the same calm tone. It was almost eerie. His eyes were drinking you in, lingering on how your hip rested against the car, how the light created shimmers on your skin.

Art walked over, stopping just in front of you. “You heard me?” He asked, face lifting into a small smirk. He leaned on the car beside you, thinking about how it would feel to be near you. You got closer to him, eyes lingering on his lips for a moment.

”I’m not deaf.” You inched closer again, almost touching. His breath was hot against your face. “You don’t like control do you?” You asked, tone snake-like. You were winding your way around him, hands inches away.

Art stared into your eyes, trying his hardest not to fall into you. “I’m fine with control. I just prefer…others to be in it.” He said, so softly it could’ve been a whisper. You nodded, as if processing something important and leaned forward, lips centimetres from his neck.

With a spare hand you grabbed his waist, pulling him into you. “Happy?” You whispered. He nodded, eyes closed. But before he could get what he wanted, you pulled away again.

His eyes opened, confusion littering his gaze. He almost looked like a lost puppy. “Patience.” It was one word, but it sent a shiver through him. He didn’t have time for patience.

Art sighed, voice filled with yearning as he replied with a quiet, “please.” You smiled, moving further away now and opening your car door.

He was stuck in place, not knowing how to react and instead simply stared at you. You turned on the ignition, muttering another, “Patience.” You didn’t wait for his reply.

——

You played your matches with fury, screaming at your opponent far too often - something that had become a trademark of yours (which you had surprisingly never been written up for). Art watched the match, or rather watched you under the pretence of watching the match. He watched how you got close to your opponent, whispering something that made her face pale. Art found himself growing jealous, the way your figure moved was almost intoxicating. 

The weather beat down as you continued to play, skin shining in the endless heat. The match reached half-time and you sighed in annoyance, walking over to the side of the court and arguing with your coach. Art tried to catch your eye from his place in the stands but you didn’t take any notice, instead turning to your water bottle and pouring it over your face. The water fell over your features in almost slow motion to Art, the droplets clinging to your skin and sticking your white tennis shirt to your body.

You met his eyes, anger and annoyance evident in your gaze and turned away, heading toward the centre of the court again. You wanted to get this match done. Each shot seemed to grow with intensity and, while fatigue picked at your opponent, the longer the match went on, the better you played - maybe it was the adrenaline.

The match was called and cheers erupted from the sidelines when you won, a proud smile on your face as you walked over to take the trophy. Now seemingly the face of niceties, you shook your opponent's hand, wishing her luck on her next games and walked off the court, heading back toward your dorm to get changed and celebrate. Art’s brows furrowed as he followed after you.

He caught up, seemingly trailing like some sort of lost puppy. “Where are we going?” He asked, voice lilting with confusion. You stopped, turning to meet his eyes as you ran your hand through your hair.

“I’m home, then to a bar. You can do whatever you want, Art.” You replied calmly, crossing your arms as he stared back in some sort of pleading. He seemed downtrodden, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment until he walked closer, seemingly begging.

His voice was quiet as he spoke, “You’re not staying for my match?” He wanted you to see him play, to potentially see him win. There was something about you that made Art crave your attention - he needed to know you saw him.

There was silence, nothing but the hum of a crowd and the hot sun. Then, “I’ll see you after.” Art had been given the chance to reply, but he didn’t take it and so another silence cut through the conversation in an isolating way. He watched you walk off, uncaring and victorious.

—

The bar was thick with noise, bodies pressed against another moving to harsh music and air damp with the smell of cheap alcohol - it was a preferred place of the Stanford students. You sat at the bar, head leaning on your palm as you spoke idly with the bartender. You had switched out your tennis clothes for a darker ensemble, specifically a shining leather skirt with a white tank top and the most aggressive stilettos you could find. God bless 2000s fashion.

Art had walked in a few moments ago, spotting you almost instantly in the crowd of people. As he passed by endless bodies to get to you hands reached out in congratulation - he had won his match. He sat beside you, knowing he’d have to be the one to start the conversation. “I won my match.”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “I heard.” That was it, that was all you said…though it seemed to mean something to Art - a message you had gotten across. You had been talking about him and, by the drink that was just placed in front of him, you had been waiting for him too. “You weren't…distracted?” you asked now, a small smirk building on your face, twisting your glittering lips.

Art seemed confused, then he thought back to your practice sessions, you hadn’t been watching when he needed you to and you weren’t there when he wanted you to be. “It did weigh on my mind, your absence. Though clearly I didn’t let it get to me.” (this was a lie).

A smile graced your features and you leaned forward, “I’m touched you were thinking of me.” it was a whisper, a soft breath that smelled like passion fruit cocktails. His eyes fluttered - very much involuntarily - and he smiled back, his hand gliding over the rim of his cocktail glass.

He felt almost confident now, his smile matching yours in something that could only be described as want. You couldn’t ignore the prettiness of the image, how his blonde hair fell in small curls, the amber part of his eye that drew you to his gaze, the amused look that graced his blushed lips. Maybe it was why you made the decision when you did.

You stood, walking away with a sure smile on your face. Art stood, suddenly much less confident (though still smiling) and you spun on your heel, eyes meeting him instantly. “Come on.” That seemed to be all it took and he followed you, eventually speeding up to walk by your side as you walked back to your dorm room.

It was odd how quiet the night seemed in comparison to the bar. Usually there were immature college students everywhere, getting drunk under trees or thinking they were football stars when they were just drunk (something neither of you were).

The quiet continued into the dorm block, the whole campus seemed to be in the bar, celebrating your wins. The air was still humid from the summer sun and as soon as you reached your room, the windows were swung wide, allowing any residual noise from the bar to seep through into your bedroom.

This was how the two of you sat, quiet and listening. If there was any conversation, it wasn’t meaningful enough to be particular to the moment - or to be memorable. Art had turned to face you, his hands gently resting on the duvet in front of him like he was leaning forward to breathe you in.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question was posed softly, simply. You smiled - he had been waiting. Art had been waiting since the moment he had first seen you on the court, though he’d admit that he had been waiting a bit more impatiently after he felt your soft hands on his waist those few days ago. Your response was almost painful to him, a word he never wanted to hear:

“Wait.”

You stood and left the room, though you didn’t do much. Instead, you stared into the mirror, brushing your hair away from your face and thinking about what he had said. It wasn’t something you’d say no to, not in any world, but you found that the longer you made a person wait, the better it would be.

When you walked back into the room his eyes were wrought with impatience, hands begging for you. You sat back down again as if you had never left and smiled as he looked through his eyelashes at you. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he leaned forward, almost pleading with you. You answered his question softly, placing a deep kiss to his lips. He was almost feverish in his response, hands wrapping themselves into the beach of your hair as he pushed into you, deepening the kiss as much as he could.

You smiled against his lips, hands moving from his face to his waist as you pulled him tighter against you. It seemed as though neither of you needed to breathe as his body wrapped itself around yours and he found himself sighing when the two of you lay down, finally pulling away as you wrapped your arms around him. You lay there, him in your embrace and smiled as he kissed your forearm. You were what he wanted (the same could be said for you).

[504py]

Scalding-Hot Steel - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

He finally lets you try on his armor.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!! 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏 i got caught in a bit of a slump, but i hope this can make up for it, and that this was worth the wait!! the chapter after this might be the finale, so i may take even longer to get to it. nonetheless, thank you to everyone who's been reading till now, and thank you all for 600 followers!!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, Leon is a total puppy, mutual pining.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You're unsure what it was, but following that interaction at the library, you and Leon have grown closer.

This upgrade in your relationship has made you be able to relax more in his presence, now that you see him as more friend than foe. Well, to call him a foe was a gargantuan exaggeration, but you did find him intimidating. You still do sometimes.

Even if you've backed off and retired your old obsessive habit of being way too observant about every single little detail about Leon, you can't help but still notice how it seems like your roles have been swapped.

Leon has begun to follow you around like a dog, to put it simply.

You swear it's not just you fixating on him, you really have started seeing him around much more often. He's started waiting by your door to greet you a good morning with a small smile, before heading to the courtyard. During lunchtime, he's begun to engage in smalltalk with you, talking about mundane things like the weather, or your schedule for the day. He's especially chatty if he learns he's going to be part of it. At night, when his usual routine would be to simply see you off at your bedroom door and say goodnight, now he sits by your bedside and talks about anything 'till it lulls you to sleep. He'd be mortified if you knew how long he stayed after you've dozed off.

Leon has begun studying you, in return. He likes to think that he's observant, but that usually only applies to combat, or if he's been trained beforehand on the matter. With people, he's never really had much luck reading them, unless it's too obvious for it to even be called "observing."

Leon admires that about you, how keen your eyes always are. He wonders if you're as drawn into his quirks as he is with yours. If you were, he envies your ability to drink in information so tactfully. If the devil were in the details– in your details, Leon would love to become a sinner.

His attempts in learning more about you were painfully amateurish. Even if Leon were a great tutor, a great protector, a great fighter, he tends to be terrible at holding conversation.

"My lady–"

"I told you to stop calling me that." You sigh and roll your eyes playfully.

"Sorry." He huffs your name bashfully, drawing closer towards you. You look up at him, and he drinks in the sight before you're squinting slightly at the rays of sun attacking you from behind his head.

"Please step into the shade, milady." He insists, holding his hand out for you to place yours on, before leading you underneath a large tree.

"There you are again, Sir Leon." You laugh, resting your back against the smooth bark of the tree.

"Hey, I asked you to forgo the titles as well." He muses, noticing you were still straining your eyes slightly, so he steps in front of the sun. It makes your face relax, and once again, he realizes keeping you happy and protecting you brings him fulfillment like no other.

"Just doing the same as you are, Sir Leon, since you won't drop mine." Chuckling, you sit down on the plush grass and wait for him to follow.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh, setting down the picnic basket in front of you. Leon wants to sit beside you, but then his back wouldn't be there to shield you from the sun. He sits where he is.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He says, almost jokingly. Saying your name out loud makes him feel shy, like saying the name of a god. It feels almost forbidden to be molded by his tongue, but you always invite him to say it, and the intimacy makes his heart race every single time he dares to. He mumbles it quietly again, getting a high from it.

You look beautiful. He thought that from the day he first met you, but the closer you two have gotten, the more and more he finds himself thinking that, and even more does it make his heart ache in his chest. In the shade under this tree, windy summer day illuminating the soft curves of your face so enchantingly, Leon can't help but look like a bit of an idiot drinking the sight in.

"Are you feeling hot?"

His eyes look at your lips first, ears registering your voice second. He closes his mouth, realizing it's been hanging slightly agape.

"I, uh, no– no, I'm feeling alright, my–"

You tilt your head down, and send him a playful warning glare. He stops in his tracks and looks down for a second, smiling breathily.

"I'm alright."

"Really? Your head tilts to the right this time, and Leon's heart skips a beat at how adorable he finds the gesture. "That armor you're wearing looks pretty hot. Can't you take it off?"

"It's only chainmail." He reassures, taking off his helmet and combing a hand through his flattened hair, "The helmet is a little troublesome, though."

You chirp, "I can imagine." before you open up the picnic basket in front of you and start rummaging through it.

Leon watches you munch on some biscuits for a bit, before his eyes flit back to the helmet by his side. "...Some time ago, you said you had wanted to try on my armor."

He says this mid-chew, so you hurry to get your food down so you can respond, "Oh, you remembered?" You wipe away a few crumbs from your lip, Leon finds the act charming, and it makes him smile softly. You continue, "Mm, yes, I did. Why bring it up?"

"Well," Leon holds up his helmet, "Would you like to try it on now?"

The way your eyes light up can't help but force a boyish, giddy grin on Leon's face. It feels strange and his cheeks feel weird, he can't really remember the last time he's smiled this hard. It does scare him a little, how foreign it is, but the feeling is so, so welcomed.

"Of course! Are you joking?" You put the snacks in your hands away, and move the basket to the side so you can inch closer to Leon. The feeling of your legs touching make butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"I-I'm not– I–" He's sputtering and he finds his brain struggling to function at being so flustered.

"Calm down, Leon." You laugh heartily. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, but with how darn observant you are, he's sure that you're well aware what you do to him. It makes his cheeks burn red and glare at you with a kittenish frown. He wishes he could be more suave about his feelings towards you.

"I will once you stop making me so flustered." Leon huffs, hoping that wasn't too bold of a thing to say. His cheeks burn deeper. His eyebrows lower at your surprised look.

"Do I now?"

"W-Well– See, you're doing it again!" Leon groans, letting go of his helmet to hide his flushed face in his broad hands and whine. His ears turn red at the sound of your hearty laugh.

"Well, it's only fair that I do it to you too."

"Too?"

Your face warms, realizing what you've revealed. Leon grins, elated at the mere implication that he makes you feel the same way.

"Y-You've noticed, haven't you? In the library, you asked why I felt so uncomfortable around you."

"You didn't exactly answer... I thought it was because you disliked me."

"...Now you know that I clearly don't. We get along rather well, don't we?"

He's beaming at you, and it's not just the sun shining on him, it looks like he's literally glowing with serenity and love.

"We do, my lady."

"Leon!" You interject him calling you by your formal title.

He can't seem to let the title go, because in his mind, it's more of a pet name than a title. A term of endearment. Leon clings to the "my" part of the title, he liked the tiniest hint that you could be his. My lady, my lover, my sweetheart, mine.

Leon giggles, and he pauses for a moment after, realizing he can't remember the last time he's let out such a noise. He gazes upon you in awe, amazed at how you were able to bring out this side of him.

"What is it?"

Leon blinks, getting drawn out of his haze and shaking his head dismissively. He keeps his soft gaze on you, though.

The pads of his fingers rest on his helmet, feeling the ridges of it. Maybe it was too rough for someone he deemed as delicate as you. His eyes lower and rest on the piece of armor, noting how it's covered in scratches and dents, how it isn't so shiny as he'd like for it to be. It washed over him like a small wave of shame, thinking it not worthy for someone of your standing to don. Not even socially, but the standing that you held within his mind and his heart. Leon never thought he'd be insecure over such a trivial thing.

"So... Can I try it on, my good Sir?"

Leon lets out a little snort at what you call him, freezing and making an embarrassed face at the undignified noise, but then he he sees how happy it makes you– perhaps how happy he himself makes you, and he feels at ease.

"Yes, of course, Your Royal Highness."

You playfully slap his bicep at the absurd title. "I am not royalty!"

"You are to me." He mutters as he adjusts his sitting position, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

He's kneeling in front of you, being mindful of your hair or anything on your clothing the helmet could snag on, gently lowering it before the hard metal rests on the top of your skull.

Leon sits back down, and can't help a cheesy, tight-lipped smile when he sees how awkwardly it fits you. It's crooked, and it simply is too rugged in contrast to your usual attire and demeanor.

"...How is it?"

"Wow, I can barely see. This is amazing!" Your hands rest on the sides of the helmet to try and stabilize it, yet it still tips over off balance after adjusting. Leon lets out a snort, and this time, he's only half-embarrassed.

"How do you fight in this? I can't see anything."

Leon wordlessly pulls the visor up. His heart pounds at the sight of your flushed face and messy hair.

"Ohh. What if an arrow lands in my face, though?"

"I can assure you, you won't be getting into that sort of situation anytime soon."

"You seem very sure of yourself, Leon."

"Of course, it's my duty to protect you."

"...Do you enjoy it?"

"What? Protecting you?"

You nod, "Yes."

"I look forward to it every day."

The two of you share a wide smile, beaming at the intimacy of this interaction, and you two have never felt closer. I want to kiss you, is all Leon can think about.

Right as he was mindlessly leaning in, you let out a small laugh for whatever reason, and Leon is forever grateful that you do, because it snaps him out of his trance, and he feels so stupid for trying to make a move on you.

"That's good. I don't think armor suits me very much anyways." You clumsily take his helmet off of your head, and rest it by your hip.

"I'm glad to have you protecting me, Leon. I'm so happy to have you by my side every day, not even as a knight, but as a companion." You say this so demurely, looking down at your lap with a cherubic expression on your face that has his heart pounding in his strong chest.

Then, you just had to look up at him, and meet his lovestruck stare, and maybe he's gone crazy from how flustered he's been all day, but he swears he can see the same look in your eyes.

Leon throws out whatever he was last thinking straight out the window, encases your wrists in his hands, and kisses you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[s4pphicghost]

doing ellies eyeliner ⋆｡˚ ❀

first post !! hope you guys will like it <3 (im sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language) feel free to correct me/give advice!!

!! palestine links !! & !! daily click to help !!

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your girlfriend frowned and crossed her arms at your words. "seriously? me and makeup?” she looked at you doubtfully. "yes!!" you cried out happily, “i’d really like to see how eyeliner would look on you.. please, ellie”, you looked at her with a soft, sweet look, trying to mentally convince her. the girl rolled her eyes jokingly. you were so excited by the idea, she just couldn’t upset you with refusal.

“okay..”, she sat on the bed, leaning on her hands and watching in a relaxed position as you rummaged through your makeup bag with enthusiasm. “gonna sit on my lap?” ellie grinned playfully. “only if it makes you more comfortable” you glanced at her and sat on her lap. she wrapped her arms around your waist and looked into your eyes. her touch sent pleasant goosebumps across your skin. you placed your hands on her cheeks and she leaned into your hands… you couldn’t help but smile. “close your eyes and don’t open until i tell you to”

ellie obediently closed her eyes. you spent a few seconds admiring your girl: freckles randomly scattered across her face, cute thick eyebrows and that scar... the features that made her stand out. you stared long enough, she realized what was happening, smiling without opening her eyes. noticing her reaction, you got down to business. you carefully traced the tip of your eyeliner along her lash line, trying not to move too fast. such thick and dark eyelashes, they always impressed you and you loved it. silence filled the room. you were so close to her, you could hear and feel her breath on your hands. the moment felt kind of intimate, it made you slightly nervous. your fingertips gently stroke the girl’s cheeks. she seemed very calm and relaxed, unlike you. ellie frowned when your movements became more confident, her eyelids twitched from your touch out of habit. you accidentally moved your hand with the eyeliner in the wrong direction. “fuck..” you whispered through a dissatisfied sigh and stood up from her. "whats wrong?" the absence of you in ellies hands, even for a few moments, upset the girl.

“you’re twitching too much, the line is crooked..” you returned to her lap with a cotton swab in your hands. she raised her head again. "too ticklish." she said sharply, her voice filled with playful annoyance. you carefully wiped away the crooked line of the eyeliner, trying not to press too hard on her thin skin. “be patient a little longer baby”, you kissed her forehead softly and again did your best trying to draw perfect lines. the girl put her hands back on your waist and squeezed a little, pulling you closer. she smirked in satisfaction, without opening her eyes. you melted under her touch, but you tried to keep your hand strong and make confident movements, even if your hands were a little shaky. after a few minutes of suffering, you got more or less accurate triangles. “open your eyes..” you closed your eyeliner and looked at your girlfriend with admiration. she frowned a little “ugh, this thing tightens the skin..”

you smirked contentedly and placed your hands on her shoulders. “you look so cute.. i knew this shape would suit you.” the girl smiles back at you, happy that you are happy with the result. “you’re such a pro”. “you didn’t even see it!”, you exclaimed, quickly got up from her lap and ran for the mirror. "here.." the girl was slightly surprised by her reflection. “wow.. this is really good,” she said, looking at herself from different angles. the eyeliner really did highlight her eye shape well and the forest green color of her eyes seemed to pop out more. “im surprised i even like it". a smile spread across your face and you began peppering your girlfriend’s face with endless amount of soft, small kisses. she laughed softly, feeling the warmth of your lips that made her blush a bit. her arms are wrapped tightly around your waist.

"what's next? you’re gonna dress me in your evening dress?” she asked jokingly through your nonstop kisses. you paused for a couple of seconds and looked at her. the delight on your face made it clear to ellie that she just made a big mistake. her eyes widened with slight embarrassment. "oh fuck no..."

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i would be really grateful for any feedback!! ty<3

[luna0713hunter]

I'd die for you

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.

Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."

You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.

"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"

"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"

You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"

"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."

The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."

You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.

"I'm going!!"

"Good luck with him!"

You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.

It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.

As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.

"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."

"Zoro,its me."

When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.

"...come in."

You take another breath as you finally open the door.

Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.

"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."

Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying

"its not poisoned,is it?"

"i was cooking,what do you think?"

Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily

"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"

"i didnt even say anything."

"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."

You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.

"...give it here."

You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.

"And why would i?"

"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."

And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.

"was that pause really necessary?"

"just give me the damn bowl."

You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.

You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.

"so?how is it?"

Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.

"it's the best soup I've ever had."

There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.

Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.

At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.

"hey,hey. why are you crying?"

You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.

"i almost lost you Zoro..."

"but I'm-"

"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"

When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.

"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."

He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.

Alive and safe

"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."

At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"

"really."

And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.

"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: yes I'm being irresponsible.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

‘So sorry I’m running behind. May forgot her wallet’. You reread Peter’s message for the fifth time and check the time under the bubble. More than forty minutes ago. He has to be close. 

You thought of checking but you don’t want to pressure him. Besides, he is doing a favour by bringing you to Stark Tower to let you use the space with him. You turn and pace along the wall, out of the way of the New York pedestrians who wouldn’t even notice if you got underfoot. 

You thought of waiting in the lobby but that’s too much. You focus on breathing. You feel alright for the moment, but a few times, you’ve reached for your inhaler just out of habit.  

“Hey,” a voice draws you out of your mounting anxiety, bringing you back down to just above neutral. “Door’s open, you know?” 

You face Bucky as he holds open of the many glass doors. 

You nod and teeter on your heels. “I know, sir. Just waiting.” 

“Bucky,” he corrects you. Like last time. Oops. “Waiting on the kid?” You gesture affirmatively again. He waves you over casually with a gloved hand, “come on. I can get ya into the lab.” 

“Mm, ahem,” you clear your throat, it’s getting tight. You get closer as the noise of the street makes it hard to hear your own thoughts. “That’s nice but I said I’d wait here.” 

“Busy,” he comments and his eyes roll around derisively. “Should be out here on the street. Let the kid know you’ll be upstairs.” 

There’s no arguing with him, not that you would ever dare. You’re not afraid of him. Maybe intimidated but who doesn’t make you feel small. No, he’s Bucky Barnes, an Avenger. You have no ground to tell him no. Besides, he’s being nice even if his tone remains mostly indifferent. 

“Thanks, s—Bucky,” you muster a tight-lipped smile. 

He holds the door and you flit in ahead of him, your wool jacket flapping and brushing against him. He follows. You hurry ahead then stop short as you realise you don’t know where you going. As you do, a man in a suit huffs and nearly knocks you over with his arm. 

“Watch it, little girl.” He sneers. 

“Hey,” Bucky catches him by his tie, “what’d you say to the lady?” 

You spin around in shock, rubbing your arm at the suddenness of it all. 

“N-nothing, I--” the man blinks in fear. “Nothing, she just got in my way.” 

“You knocked into her and you can’t say sorry?” Bucky pulls him closer, glaring at him with a furrow of his nose. 

“N-no,” the man shows his palms, “no.” 

“Look at her. She’s half your size, pal. You think she could hurt you?” 

“No, no, look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” The man sputters. 

“Not to me,” Bucky slides his hand down the man’s tie and pulls him like a dog on a leash toward you, “her.” 

The man blanches and gulp, “look, miss, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. I shouldn’t have... I should look where I’m going.” 

“Good boy,” Bucky’s snarl comes close to a smirk as he lets the man go and taps his cheek lightly. “Go.” 

He shoves the man by the shoulder and you bat your eyes dumbly. You watch him go as Bucky looms close. You look at him and reach for your bag. You unzip the pouch at the end of the thin strap and pull out your inhaler. You take a puff. 

His expression softens, “oh, is that me?” 

You shake your head, “too many people.” 

“Ah, right,” he points toward the elevators. 

You follow him as he bulldozes through the bodies and pushes the button. You stop beside him and fidget with your inhaler. You peek over at him again. He looks down at you and you wince. 

“Sorry... I...” 

“People usually only stare when I got the arm out,” he shrugs. “I got something on my face? Damn beard catches.”  

Brushes his fingers over the thicket of hair across his jaw. You shake your head again. 

“S-sorry. I... I...” you sniff as the doors open and he beckons you ahead of him. You scurry on and he follows as a slow pace. He spins and jabs the buttons.  

“Thanks for... for helping.” 

“Not at all,” he says. Silence rises with the elevator. He coughs. “You know, I had a buddy with ashthma. Still my buddy but he don’t got the asthma no more.”  

He snorts. You mull his words. You think know who he means.  

“The stuff or whatever... got rid of it?” You ask meekly. 

“Yeah, the stuff. Serum. Poison,” he scoffs. 

“Oh,” you hum. 

“Guess I take it for granted. Never had to worry about much of the being sick part. Sister did. Yeah, she used to always have something,” he clicks his tongue. “Tell me when to shut up.” 

“No, no, I wouldn’t... wouldn’t ever,” you stutter. 

Another lulls fills the elevator as it opens, but the tension remains trapped inside. He points you out first and waits to trail after you. You come out onto the floor. You vaguely recognise some of the acrylic decor and the stiff looking chairs but you don’t know where to go. 

“Left,” he directs you with a gentle caress down your sleeve. “Easy to get lost when you don’t waste your life here." 

You let him guide you. You’d lose yourself without him. It’s exactly why you’d been out on the street.  

That reminds you of Peter. You reach for your bag again and pull out your phone. You check for a message. 

“Kid standing a nice gal like you up?” He asks. 

You flinch, “uh, no, his aunt... there was an emergency.” 

“More important than you, huh?” He pivots and presses his finger to the keypad. The door opens. 

“I don’t... I don’t know. It’s not a big deal.” 

He looks at you, his eyes narrowing, “you’re not a big deal?” 

“No, waiting isn’t... isn’t that bad,” you stammer. “Uh, thanks, again.” 

“Well, you know, in my day, we treated ladies with respect. Let me know if the kid needs a lesson or two,” he taps the doorframe. “I’ll check in, just in case.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I know I don’t,” he says. “Go on,” he nods through the door. 

You don’t hesitate. You enter the lab with another thanks, eager to have some time to yourself. You go to the table and untangle your knapsack. You look back just as the door starts to slide shut. You only get a glimpse of his eyes before he’s blocked out by the metal barrier. You can feel his gaze staining you. 

You know it must be all in your head but he is so intense. Not as angry as last time but still... a lot. 

[allykabbet]

Sneezing dynamics I like

Apologetic sneezes. I don’t need to say much more. Maybe when they’re really tired, they forget to apologize after sneezing, making the other person worry.

Someone who usually stifles their sneezes but doesn’t when they’re REALLY comfortable with someone. They’re not very loud either.

False starts. Both the sneezer and the observer can feel the same type of frustration and desperation.

A person who appears outgoing, charismatic, confident, and naturally elegant but becomes shy and embarrassed when they lose control. They might stifle sneezes whenever possible, trying to avoid drawing attention, which ironically ends up drawing more attention, and then apologizes out of habit.

Someone politely steps aside from another person to sneeze into their elbow, turning to the side. "Sorry, what were you saying..." They compose themselves, but then, just a few seconds later, they turn away to sneeze again in the middle of the other person’s sentence.

Continuing the interrupted sentence after a sneeze, causing the words to come out breathless, tired, or congested.

"I didn’t know you sneezed so much when you were sick." Rediscovering new aspects of someone when they’re sick.

Becoming more affectionate or clingy when not feeling well?

Raising a finger to pause the other person before sneezing. A classic.

Sneezing into the elbow, wrist, or forearm.

Sneezing into a handkerchief, muffled, and then blowing their nose almost immediately.

Sneezing twice in such quick succession that the other person struggles to tell if it was one or two sneezes.

"Sorry, I can’t stop" or "Sorry, it got me..."

The other person grabs a roll of paper towels, asks a third person for tissues, or hands over napkins without the sneezy one asking, just because they see them sniffling or tearing up more than usual.

“Bless you. And bless you” before they sneeze a second time, just because of their pre-sneeze face.

"ATChsshu! [Insert generic sneeze sound] "Achu. Bless you!" The other person imitates the sneeze, not mockingly, just because they find it cute, before blessing them.

Fanning themselves before sneezing without realizing it, or subtly rubbing one side of their nose with a curved finger to hold back the sneeze.

SOFT sneezes. Not stifled, just intrinsically soft, as if they didn’t have the strength to sneeze more forcefully.

Clenching their teeth to stifle a sneeze and exhaling through their teeth afterward.

Two people sleeping next to each other, one spooning the other from behind. The big spoon can’t avoid sneezing but holds it back to avoid spraying the little spoon, making their whole body shake. The effort leaves them dizzy.

Sneeze followed by a congested, heavy exhalation. Pressing the bridge of the nose and shaking their head. Blinking several times and trying to concentrate on the pile of work in front of them.

Someone at public events who don’t want to sneeze, making subtle gestures like rubbing their nose with a finger, clearing their throat, swallowing, or squinting. They’re more distracted than usual, sniffling very discreetly, pressing the bridge of their nose.

A stoic character in a position of power losing control. Their subordinates seeing them as human for the first time and growing fond of their condition.

They usually sneeze in a certain way until suddenly they let out a different sneeze (maybe because they’re tired of stifling it or because it’s stronger than usual), and the other person exclaims, “Bless you!” instead of blessing them softly, and makes a comment about it. “That was strong, are you okay?”

Small comforting gestures, almost unconsciously. Lightly rubbing their back, a small touch on the forearm or leg, or gently brushing their hair.

A very polite, elegant person cursing after their fifth or sixth sneeze in a fit. “...fuck. So sorry, I can’t stop…”

“Ok-eh-aysSHTCHu!” A sneeze mixing with the last word they were saying.

A character with a mystical, almost distant aura. Probably powerful, mysterious, doing something as mundane as sneezing and “coming down” to earth. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s normal.”

Sneezing during an interview. So many situations could happen with this 🤭

“I’m going to die” A little bit of drama, exhausted, after a very strong sneezing fit.

Workaholic sick.

Sneezing and/or while smoking.

[rueclfer]

i loved your housemates au you made for sero can you make one for bakugo? :)))) thank you!

EEP thank u for req bc i also love housemates au sososo much hehe

(sero's version + written under cut)

housemates // katsuki bakugou moodboard + hc

there's no way bakugou would willingly move in with a stranger so when the opportunity came, moving in with a family friend was his only option. your relationship with bakugou could've barely been classified as "acquaintances," but at least you had your mothers to vouch for the other.

in the beginning, he'd most definitely keep to himself in his bedroom. small talk wasn't exactly his strong suit, so it forced you to be the one to close the gap. it'd probably start with him coming home from a bad day at work and you hear a plate shattering in the kitchen. you'd come out to see him holding another plate for the smashing with the most deadpan "oops" you've ever heard. (you're grateful that he moved on from his wall punching phase from his teenage years)

after that night, you made it a habit to ask him about his day and let him complain to his heart's content. you then start to notice him lingering around the apartment more often- sitting at the bar while you're cooking your dinner, taking a seat on the opposite side of the dining room table with you while you work on your laptop, even sitting on the balcony with you with your cups of tea early in the morning.

the more comfortable he got with you, the more irritating he became. he'd do things to purposely piss you off, like drinking straight from the milk carton and sending you a photo of it, drawing explicit things on the condensation of the bathroom mirror for you to find after his shower, and leaving his socks haphazardly thrown around the apartment.

of course through his rudeness, you were quick to catch onto his love language. need some floating shelves installed? just pretend to struggle a bit and then next thing you know he's ripping the tools from your hands and telling you to go away while he got to work. having a late start? he already has your tea steeping on the kitchen counter. forgot to switch out your laundry? sure, he'll lecture you about leaving wet clothes in the washer for too long, but you'll come home to your dry clothes in your basket next to your bedroom door.

the romance would come slow. he'd come home late at night and you're up waiting to hear his grievances about his annoying boss and coworkers, and he'd sit back and hear about your stupid assignments and professors. when the conversation comes to a lul, you're both staring at each other, fingertips tingling, and thinking to yourselves about how you can't wait to do it all over again the next day.

[elizaleclerc]

OMG PART TWO TO 'i dont know you at all' PLEASEEE <33

here to serve the ppl !

i don’t know you at all 🤍 (part two)

lando norris x reader

read part one here <3

summary: lando heals from bad habits as the racing season gets underway (warning for alcoholism)

song: drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

author’s note: wanted this part to be a little angsty still but mostly sweet too <3 (prob won't do a part 3) also hit 50 followers so yay me!!

word count: 2k

The exhilarating racing season was once again in full swing, providing a much-needed break from Lando's reckless behavior and destructive habits. After his violent outburst where he drunkenly hurled a glass at your head, he had promised to change his ways. And true to his word, he stopped going to wild parties and completely gave up drinking. The apartment was once again filled with a sense of peace, and you found yourself back in the comforting routine of sleeping beside him each night. He seemed like the same old Lando that you had always loved, but you couldn't help but feel that deep down, he still struggled with his inner demons of addiction.

As the racing season continued, Lando was once again fully immersed in his career. Every weekend, he was out on the track, pushing himself and his car to the limit. You loved watching him race, feeling a sense of pride and admiration as he effortlessly weaved through the other cars. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry about him.

You knew that once he got back into the cockpit of a race car, he had no choice but to be sober. You couldn't drink every night and still be healthy enough to be a Formula One driver. And while you were glad that racing forced him to stay away from alcohol, you also feared that once the season ended, he would fall back into his old habits.

But for now, you tried not to think about it and simply enjoyed seeing a glimpse of his normal self again. Surrounded by his friends in the paddock, Lando's infectious smile and carefree attitude returned as he joked around with his teammates and rivals. His world had become solely you and racing again, and it was a relief to see him find joy in those two things.

As Lando sat in his driver's room, getting dressed and mentally preparing for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and pride. This was the second season that you were accompanying him in the McLaren paddock. And just like before, the team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

You sat on Lando's small plush bed as he finished getting dressed, admiring his neon helmet that sat on the table next to you. The bright colors and design always caught your eye, and it was a symbol of his identity as a racer.

“How are you feeling about today?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

He turned around to face you, a small grin on his face. “Not too bad,” he replied. “The car felt good in practice and Quali, it's got the pace to win.” You nodded, knowing how important it was for Lando to have confidence in both himself and his car. He had been working tirelessly with his engineers to fine-tune every aspect of the car for this race.

“I'm sure you'll do great,” you reassured him with a smile.

Lando's face lit up with a wide, toothy grin upon hearing your words. “I hope so,” he replied, leaning in to give you a quick, tender kiss. Your hand instinctively cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss, this one filled with more passion and desire. As you stood up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you as the kisses became more heated. In these moments, all the harsh memories of post-party arguments and unwanted touches faded away. All that mattered was being enveloped in Lando's embrace, lost in each other's lips.

As his lips pressed against your neck, your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate quickened. "I love you," you whispered into his ear, feeling his soft kisses and love bites in return.

His smile was evident even through the passionate exchange of kisses. "You know you mean everything to me," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"I know, my love," you grinned, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He had told you countless times that he raced not only to win but to make you proud, and every time it made your heart swell with pride. You could see the positive changes he was making for the better, and it only strengthened your love for him.

As he headed out of his drivers room towards the starting grid, you followed close behind. The atmosphere in the paddock was buzzing with energy and anticipation as everyone prepared for what would surely be an exciting race.

You watched from the McLaren garage as he expertly maneuvered through each turn and overtook other cars on the track. It was clear that he had full control over his car and was pushing it to its limits. With only a few laps left in the race, Lando radioed into his team requesting updates on his position. He was currently in second place, but with the leader's increasing tire degradation, Lando was quickly approaching the opportunity to overtake him.

You gazed on in the paddock watching the last couple of laps unfold. Tensions were rising, and on the second to last lap, Lando finally overtook his way into first place. You felt giddy with excitement, and before you knew it the checkered flag was waved.

This was the first win that Lando had earned while the two of you were in a relationship. You paced down to the podium celebration with the rest of the McLaren crew. Your heart was overjoyed as you bit your bottom lip in excitement.

With the roar of the engines still ringing in his ears, Lando emerged from his car, hastily pulling off his helmet and sprinting towards you and the rest of the team. He barely spared a glance for his colleagues before rushing towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Through the metal fence that separated you, he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to imprint your scent into his memory forever. "I'm so proud of you," Your voice cracked with emotion as you held him close, fighting back tears. A mental image of Lando stumbling home from a wild party flashed through your mind, highlighting just how much things had changed in the past few months.

“I love you so so much,” His voice was cracking too, and as he pulled back you saw the faint glimpse of tears in his eyes. He grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. Embracing you one more time, he left to go up to the podium celebration.

As he ascended the podium, a triumphant smile lit up his face as he held up his gleaming trophy. He glanced down at you with adoration and blew a kiss in your direction. The sunlight bathed him in a golden glow, highlighting the lines of his chiseled body and the flush of exertion on his tanned skin. He cradled his first place trophy like a cherished treasure, his pride evident in the way he held it close to his chest. Your heart swelled with love and admiration as you watched him bask in the glory of his victory.

The weight of his past struggles and mental battles hung heavy in the air, unseen by the world around him. As he stood on that podium, basking in the love and admiration of those around him, you could only pray that he would hold onto this moment forever. He had endured so much pain and fought through it all with incredible resilience. This race win was a well-deserved triumph, a validation of his strength and determination a thousand times over.

~

As the excitement and chaos of the Grand Prix died down, you found yourself alone with him in his driver's room. The air was thick with tension, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, everyone expected him to go out and celebrate at the clubs in Miami as the race winner. But you knew he was struggling with a difficult decision - whether or not to join the party and risk breaking his sobriety.

"Do you want me to come with you?" You offered, torn between wanting to support him and wanting to retreat to your hotel room for an early night.

As he sat next to you, head low as he muttered “Maybe,” you couldn't help but feel torn. You wanted him to enjoy his victory and let loose, but at the same time, you understood his fear. Your hand intertwined with his, offering support and reassurance.

But as a tear fell from his eye, your heart ached. He sniffed, "I just don't want to put myself in a position where I could hurt anyone." You knew what was going through his mind - the night in his apartment, the pain he had caused you. It was a wake-up call for him, one that he hated but needed. His fear of hurting someone again consumed him, even though he had promised to change.

“It’s okay, I know how hard you’ve worked to change.” You knew your words could only do so much to make him feel better, but you came to a compromise. You would come with him to the club, making sure that he didn’t do anything drastic.

~

As the night wore on, you could see Lando slowly becoming more relaxed and comfortable in the club setting. He mingled with other drivers and even took a few shots of water when they were offered to him. You were proud of how well he was doing and made sure to let him know it. You leaned into him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at you, “Thank you for being here with me tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The two of you danced and laughed together, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere of the club. At one point, Max came over to congratulate Lando on his win and the two of them shared a friendly hug. It was a nice moment that reminded you that even though they were fierce competitors on the track, they were all still friends off it.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, Lando's infectious laughter filled the air as he walked arm in arm with you back to your hotel room. His warm embrace and the soft hum of a familiar song made you feel at ease and content. As you reached your room, he turned to face you with a genuine smile on his face.

"Tonight was magical," he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug before leaning down to press his lips against yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The moment felt like it could last forever as the warmth of his body and the gentle touch of his lips stirred butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you for coming with me.”

You smiled back at him, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The two of you continued kissing until eventually collapsing onto the bed in each other’s arms. You snuggled up against each other as sleep started to take over your exhausted bodies. The Lando you had once loved had finally come back to you. You knew realistically he didn’t need you there at the club to make sure he didn’t relapse, but you were more than willing to support him. “I’m really proud of you, you know.” You told him as your head rested on his chest.

“Thank you, my love,” he replied, his words dripping with sincerity as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head. You were his everything, the reason for every waking breath and every beat of his heart. He would do anything to make you happy, to see that beautiful smile light up your face. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but envision the rest of his life with you by his side - growing old together, experiencing all of life's ups and downs together, and loving each other through it all.

[portgasdwrld]

★ Cleaning

↺ nsfw content featuring Ace x fem!reader

Summary: After being scolded by you because of his messy room, he finds himself tidying up his space, but falls on a pair of your thong. Let’s say, he easily got distracted…

Warning: NSFW content

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

-Ace?

He watches you walk toward the busy table with a bag in your hand. You don’t seem particularly pleased with seeing him and your eyebrows are slightly frowned. He pushes back a little his hat and stares at you with curious eyes. Your fellow crew members look at you intrigued as you close the distance, flickering their gaze between you two.

-Can I talk to you for moment?

You ask, but it sounded more like a demand from your tone. He knows at this moment that you are indeed pissed and he quickly nods. He stands up to walk away as his friends tease him about being a bad boyfriend to you.

-What’s wrong pretty girl?

He asks with a smile to relax the atmosphere, but it only earns him an annoyed sigh from you as you roll your eyes.

-Your room, that’s the problem.

-Huh?

He looks at you absently as he tries to recall what did he possibly did wrong this morning to piss you off so much. You quickly bring him back to reality as your hand softly grab his forearm.

-Ace, baby, I love you but I cant possibly sleep in your room anymore with the mess.

-It’s not that ba-

-Yes it’s that bad! I didn’t mind the messy clothes laying a bit everywhere, but I draw the line at food spoiling in your room as flies make it their own territory.

You explain frustrated at Ace’s easygoing attitude when it comes to cleaning. You let go of your hold and cross your arm against your chest. Yes you love him, yes he’s really important to you, but he still gets on your nerves at times.

-But-

-And! The dirty socks ?? It needs to go, there is a dirty-clothe basket for a reason.

-Y/n, wait-

-No, I’m done. If the room isn’t clean by tonight, I’m sleeping with the girls like I used to.

He cocks an eyebrow at you with a small smile, not believing your words. You two have been sleeping in the same bed for around a month now, and he can’t possibly imagine not having you in his arms while he sleeps. He challenges you a little with his furrowed eyebrows and sly smile. You roll your eyes at him once again and huff.

-I do my fair share of cleaning as we share your room and I know you can be busy when I’m not, but it has to be fair. The dirty plates really are my limit…So yeah, I’m being serious.

You hand him the bag with the garbages that you collected earlier as you were thinking what to tell him. You are upset, but you also get that he’s a pirate and probably never had proper discipline when it comes to that.

Ace frowns a little as he understands this is truly a serious situation and takes the bag in your hand. You avoid his face as you don’t want to be influenced by his charm and back down on your boundaries. You feel him walk closer to you and leave a quick peck on your forehead.

-Then you won’t be mad at me anymore?

He concludes with a soft smile. He takes your hand into his. You nod as you put distance again between you two by taking a step back.

-Yes, but it has to become a habit Ace..

-I will try my best! Let me take care of this, so my princess is able to sleep in a clean space tonight!…and after tonight too!

You chuckle a little, glad to see him enthusiastic and understanding to your frustrations.

-Thank you

-No problem, I will see you later then!

He smiles at you one last time and he doesn’t miss the chance to steal a kiss on your lips before walking away from you: Direction, his room!

——

As Ace walks in, he’s met by his familiar room. The bed is undone and he can see the beginning of your cleaning and where you clearly gave up. You left a pile of dishes on his desk and the dirty clothes near the bed.

The fire user sighs at the view, knowing it’s gonna be quite the work, but if it’s for you, anything is worth it. He starts by the easiest which is dropping the dirty dishes in the ship kitchen and quickly washing them.

He quickly runs back to his room ready to attack the next task. He takes a wet clothe and pass over his fournitures to remove accumulated dusts. He places your books as a small pile on his desk and put his maps in their designated basket, along with any files he had left around.

After running around the ship, he gets his hand on a broom. He cleans the floors from the dusts and any garbages, after putting the clothes on the bed to fold them or throw them in the dirty-clothe basket.

He finally sits down on the bed. As he’s drinking water, he eyes the clothes and pass his hands through the familiar pieces that you wear and he wears. He puts the water down and attack the pile of clothes.

It’s going very well until, he’s almost at the end of it and he falls on one of your pair of thongs. Ace can’t help himself but smirk as he exactly remember when you wore this and what exactly happened after this was removed from you. He finds himself lost between his dirty thoughts, him missing you, him being tired of cleaning.

A little break wont’t hurt right? As long as everything is done by tonight..?

He grins mischievously as he lays down on his bed. He closes his eyes for a second as he sighs before opening them once again and stares at your pair of panties between his fingers. Despite knowing you would kill him if you saw him possibly , maybe highly considering jerking off instead of cleaning, the thought is getting more and more tempting.

Damn he loves it when you stand your ground and show how confident you are. He loves when you climb on top of him and you two make out for minutes and minutes before getting to the act. Those moments where his hands roam all over your curves, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. He loves when you touch his bare chest with your fingers and press slightly your core against him. He loves how lost you get when he touches you, how your confident behaviour crumbles whenever he presses kisses over your body. You are such a turn on to him, it’s almost unfair.

He feels his shorts getting tighter as a tent form under the material. He sighs as he brushes his free hand in his dark hair. He looks at the ceiling as he let his other hand flop against the mattress.

“I can maybe do this in like 10 minutes? And like get back to cleaning after..”

He mumbles to himself as he tries to convince himself it’s a good plan even though he clearly has a feeling that it is not.

“Huh fuck it”

He concludes nonchalantly with a slight shoulder shrug as he awkwardly massages his cock through his shorts. What are the possible odds you enter the room while he decides to do this…

He hisses at the pleasure that the slight friction gives him and his eyes dart to your thong which he’s now holding tighter between his fingers.

From this moment, his mind forgets all about the cleaning task and he’s only thinking of your silhouette, the curve of your body, the view he has when you two are having intercourse. He’s thinking of how he ate your pussy out with this exact thong pressed against your wet core, you always get so wet for him.

His cock now in his hands, Ace allows himself to start with slow strokes which leaves him wishing for your presence. Your lips wrap his tip so well, you suck it and lick it with such skills that he dreams of spending a day just getting his cock sucked by you. Your name leaves his lips as he begins to go faster, occasionally holding his cock tighter like you do.

He’s lost in his train of thoughts before he hears some rumbling outside of his room and your voice from afar after being greeted by Marco. Usually he wouldn’t bother to hide the fact that he was jerking off, but now was a different situation. In panic he pulls his shorts up, but as you open the door, you seem to quickly notice something is off.

“Hey…I came to see how the cleaning was going..”

You trail off as you scan the room. Ace who was just now looking at you with surprised Bambi eyes, cough to shake the awkwardness away and points at his desk area with a slight blush.

“Well the desk is now uhh clean and uh I’m um finishing the clothes..”

“With my thong in your hand?”

You cock an eyebrow at his hand. Ace didn’t notice that he was still holding tightly into the piece of clothing when he pointed at his desk.

His hard bulge makes it harder for him to focus as all he’s thinking right now is tossing the clothes on the floor and fuck you. His eyes stare at you without much thoughts behind.

“Yeah…well your clothes are mixed up with mine”

You squint your eyes at him, before nodding still skeptic. You know Ace, you know your boyfriend, you clearly have an idea of what he was possibly doing and as you step on his belt laying on the floor, it completely confirms it for you.

“You did a better job than I was expecting …”

You start as you ignore him and analyze his job so far. Ace awkwardly shifts on the bed, trying to find a more confortable position that would relieve a little his dick.

“Oh..uh thanks babe, I really tried my best..”

“…, but there is clearly still unfinished work but I guess I did say you have until tonight for it to be done.”

You finish as you turn to face him and point at the pile of clothing. You cross your arms over your chest as you lean back on the desk for support. Ace looks delicious. His shorts are barely hanging on his waist, his obvious hard bulge, his toned body glistening from a slight sweat, his dark long hair covering a little his face and his flushed freckled cheeks.

“I will finish it don’t worry”

He says as he holds eye contact with you and a confident smile. You scoff as a smirk curve your lips. You uncross your arms and walk closer to him. You cup his face with one of your hand, your boyfriend on the other side is still holding eye contact with you. You peck his lips and you find it a bit funny how easily he left a sigh out.

“Alright, then I guess I’m done here”

You try to walk away, but Ace’s hand is quick to hold you back by holding one of your thighs. You know he’s not in a position to ask for favors after the whole cleaning situation and he’s very well aware of this too, which is why he hasn’t flipped you over, back pressed on the bed and fucked you already.

“You can kiss me better than this”

He teases as you feel his thumb massage circles on your skin.

“I will when you hold your promise Fire-Fist”

You reply as you flick his forehead. He whines a little and suddenly his attitude changes completely. He sighs defeated as he let go of his hold on you and lay down again on the bed.

“Alright baby, then see you tonight”

He smirks as he watches your confused expression. You nod slowly, “is he going to just continue what he was doing with my old pair of underwear…” you think to yourself. You slightly get annoyed that he’s able to always be so cool about everything. It’s not fair, because you really wanted to give him the best blowjob ever because he just looks amazing and you love him, but you have your pride. So you decide to not make it so easy for him, make him see what he’s clearly missing by not finishing up his cleaning task.

You quickly kick your footwear off and climb on top of him, surprising him. You smirk to yourself as you feel satisfied with the expected reaction you wanted.

“And what are you going to do Babe?”

You coo at him as you dangerously close the distance between your bodies. Ace brown eyes glitter in excitement and his hands find themselves naturally on your exposed thighs.

His cock is painfully hard at this point. Ace furrows his eyebrows, before tightly closing his eyes in pleasure when your knee softly presses against his bulge.

“Your cock is so hard baby..it must hurt so bad”

You continue in a fake concern. Ace doesn’t answer and he simply let his fingers travel under your shorts where he grabs tightly your ass. You leave at first a peck on his neck and then multiple butterflies kisses all over his torso, until you are facing his hard dick still hidden under his shorts.

“Your dick is probably leaking in precum already”

You continue, trying to push him to the edge. You know you have the control over the situation, but the thought of him randomly snapping and fucking you was incredibly tempting. But you had to stick to your plan. You pan your hot breath over his length under Ace lustful eyes. He’s tightly holding into the bed sheets and that’s when you figure it’s best to leave it there for now.

“Too bad there is still some cleaning to do”

You conclude as you remove yourself from him with a fake disappointed pout. You grin to Ace who looks completely out of it. His head heavily falls back against his pillow as he sighs annoyed.

You put your shoes back and as you’re about to leave, you hear your boyfriend speak.

“Enjoy whatever you have to do now, because I promise you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You don’t turn around and simply close the door behind yourself.

A clean room and a hard fuck? Seems like the perfect night.

As of now, Ace has to finish, well his

Cleaning.

lowkey might do a part 2. If I have time