#and you have no one to blame but yourself

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arsenal

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The wsl title race

The year you turn eighteen, is the year Arsenal win the wsl.

The year before had been your development year. The year that had you as the second choice keeper with only a few starts but somehow still more minutes than you were getting at Linköping.

This year, you were sharing time with the other keeper consistently. You were being brought out to play more often and you were making crucial saves to keep Arsenal in the title race.

It seemed a bit like fate that the two contenders were facing each other on the last day. It seemed a bit like fate that it was the two teams that had shaped your early childhood.

Arsenal vs Chelsea.

Both were level on points with Chelsea, as suspected, leading on goal difference.

You had to win.

Losing wasn't an option.

Especially at a packed out Emirates with you in goal.

Especially at a stadium where your mothers sat in the stands watching.

Eighteen years old and everything is resting on your shoulders.

It had been a bit of a surprise that you were chosen to start today when the other keeper was more experienced with the pressure of this but you refused to crumble under it.

You sigh, long and drawn out as you approach your goal.

Chelsea come out swinging.

Two shots within the first five minutes.

One off target and one straight into your hands.

Chelsea continue with their pressure, mounting a dangerous attack as you scramble to keep their shots out. You've given away more corners than you think you ever have during a game and you're barking out orders to your backline practically every minute.

You're not confrontational. You pride yourself on being calm and quiet off the pitch. But on the pitch, you know you're in charge of your backline and you're not afraid to yell instructions to make sure they don't fall apart.

Which is something they're clearly doing to Chelsea's building pressure.

You can't blame them either because everything comes down to this match. Everything comes down to these small moments as the ball streaks towards you.

You think, briefly as you go to the ground with the ball in your grip, that had you not played against some of these players during the recent international break then you would have let a few of these goals in.

But you've worked out some of their tells.

Like how the player that just shot at you favours going for the top right corner and how the one before always switches foot before they shoot.

It gives you enough time to prepare and enough time to move to make the save.

You pant for a moment, catching your breath before getting up and rolling the ball off to your centre-back.

Chelsea is brutal as usual and you just know that Morsa is up in the Arsenal friends and family box gloating.

She's never really given up her endless bragging about Chelsea.

You're not going to let her have the satisfaction though as you ready yourself for a goal kick, sending it streaking up the other end of the field and giving you another time to wipe the sweat from your brow with a towel.

For once though, Arsenal remain in possession and it's a split second decision that has the ball buried in Chelsea's net.

You celebrate with the fans, jumping and pumping your fist into the air.

You know what's coming next.

This whole season, it's been the same thing.

A brutal battle for possession, missed shots and corners until Arsenal finally slot it home. That's when the gloves come off and more goals are scored in quick succession.

It's happened time and time again all season and you're happy to see another two goals go in within the space of ten minutes.

Three goals up at the Emirates before half time.

Three goals up at the Emirates at ninety minutes.

Four goals up at the Emirates during injury time.

The final whistle goes and you abandon your goal, jumping straight into the team hug as it's announced that Arsenal are the winners of the wsl.

The fans are cheering and you've got the medal around your neck and your captain is raising the trophy.

Your eyes are focussed on where family and friends are being let onto the pitch.

Your Momma and Morsa are walking on with Frido.

Throughout your childhood, one of your earliest memories of your Morsa is her wearing a Chelsea jersey.

You'd been watching the match on tv with Momma.

Momma, to you, had always been Wolfsburg. She had been Wolfsburg then Chelsea then Bayern. She had never screamed Chelsea the way Morsa did though.

Morsa had always been Chelsea in your mind, even when you had all been at Bayern. It was irrefutable fact to you.

Magdalena Eriksson was always Chelsea. Chelsea defender. Chelsea player. Chelsea captain.

But here she was, in an Arsenal shirt, the crest clearly exposed on her chest. She was walking towards you, in your Arsenal shirt with your name on it on the day you've just won the wsl.

She joins the hug Momma has already swept you into, cocooning you in warmth.

"I'm so proud of you," Pernille says," You did so well today."

"So well," Magda echoes," Greatest keeper in the world!"

You laugh as you pull away. "I'm not quite there yet, Morsa."

"One day," She says to you," One day soon. You will be. I know it."

"She was telling absolutely everyone," Pernille laughs," She wouldn't shut up."

"She even started cheering for Arsenal," Frido tells you, sweeping you up into her own hug," I never thought I would see the day when Magda starts singing North London forever."

"No I didn't!" Magda's cheeks puff out in outrage. "Stop spreading lies!"

"I have it on video."

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Behind Closed Doors 3

Despite your promise not to sneak behind the team again, you find yourself in a compromising position when you’re forced to ride in the same car as him.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Nipple/breast play, dry humping, semi public, dirty talk, and technically this isn’t car sex but everything happens in a car, there’s just no penetration. ~2.5k words (not proofread)

A/n: This wasn’t supposed to be in my WIP but… I blame him for looking so slutty in that shirt. Btw, this is shorter because I already have a lot on my plate but I really wanna squeeze this in, so enjoy! If you’ve been following since the first part, our kinky, slightly exhibitionist duo is back

You liked to think you had a good sense of self control when it came to your sex drive. In your past relationships, you were rarely the one to make the first move. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy sex—far from it, actually—but you didn't see it as the centerpiece of a relationship. Sex was enjoyable, yes, but it wasn’t everything.

At least, that's what you thought until now.

You recently reached a realization that three factors led you to reconsider this long-held belief, and unsurprisingly, they all revolved around Spencer Reid.

The first one was his choice of clothes. It seemed like he had woken up one day and decided that undoing the top buttons of his shirt was the new norm. It was as if he was taunting you, and it was working. The moment you saw him wearing that shirt this morning, all you could think about was dragging him into a storage room and have your dirty, nasty way with him.

The second thing was the way your heart raced when he accidentally brushed his hand against yours as you both reached for the car keys. Emily had asked you both to interview a key witness, and naturally, you assumed you’d be the one driving because Spencer rarely volunteered to take the wheel. But to your surprise, he insisted on driving.

It was strange. You wondered what had prompted this change, but you didn’t protest. In fact, you let him. Happily. Because this set the stage for what became the third significant moment that made you reconsider everything.

Him driving the damn car.

You found yourself unable to keep your eyes off him. The way his hands gripped the wheel, moving with effortless control that hinted at a confidence he rarely displayed. Your gaze traveled up his arm, noting the tension in his muscles, and the way his shirt tightened across his shoulders with each turn.

Then there was his face. Your gaze drifted to his jawline, appreciating the sharp angles and the way it tightened slightly when he was deep in concentration. You had to squeeze your thighs together because watching him drive was enough to make you wet.

It was highly inappropriate, of course. You were both on the job, and there was a witness to interview. So you forced yourself to stay professional. It wasn’t until after you finished, after you and Spencer had informed Emily of what you had found and given her the necessary details over the phone, that your ogling became more prominent on the drive back to the station.

And despite being subtle about it, Spencer seemed to know the effect he had on you.

“Is there something you want to say?” His voice was low, slightly amused, as he spared a quick glance in your direction before focusing back on the road.

You forced yourself to look away from his hands. “What do you mean?”

“You seem… distracted.”

You swallowed, trying to muster up an explanation that wouldn’t give away too much. “Just thinking about the case.”

The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting back a smile. “Really? Because it looked more like you were deep in thought about something else.”

You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Well, maybe the case isn’t the only thing on my mind.”

“Oh? And what else were you thinking about?”

“I don’t know if you’d be interested.”

“Try me.”

You turned your body towards him. “It’s highly inappropriate.”

“Now you’ve really got my attention.”

You hesitated, feeling the car’s warmth envelope you, making the space seem smaller, more intimate. “Okay, but remember, you asked for it,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I was thinking about... how well you handle the steering wheel.”

Spencer laughed, a deep, genuine sound that filled the car. “Is that your way of saying you like my driving, or something more metaphorical?”

“Maybe a bit of both. I mean, a person’s driving does say a lot about them, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” he agreed. “And what does my driving say about me?”

“That you’re good with your hands.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours briefly, and you squeezed your thighs tighter.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said finally, his voice low. There was a brief pause and you wondered whether you had gone too far, whether this wasn’t the right time or place to flirt so openly, but then he spoke again.

“And since we’re sharing, I was thinking about something a bit inappropriate too.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “Like what?”

“Like how it’s hard to focus on the road when you’re looking at me like that.”

“…how am I looking at you?”

He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Like you want me to pull over to the side of the road and kiss you.”

A silence fell between you, and for a moment, you could hardly breathe. You felt a flush of warmth spread through your body, and you bit your lip, considering his words.

“And what if I do?” You asked softly.

You noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, clearly fighting to maintain his composure.

“Then I’d have to find a quiet place for us.”

Your body responded immediately, a wave of heat coursing through you as your breath quickened. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your veins, an urgent, needy beat that matched the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Pull over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes searching yours. Then, without hesitation, he scanned the road for a safe spot. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him steer the car onto a narrow, dark lane shielded by dense shrubs. The path seemed to swallow the sound of the engine as he drove further away from the main road.

The silence that followed was thick as he turned off the engine. You both stared at each other, acutely aware of what you were about to do, about the potential consequences, but everything blurred as you both moved at the same time.

Everything was fast, a rush of motion and emotion as Spencer leaned over the console. His lips met yours with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, while you clung to his arm. He kissed you hungrily, desperately, as if trying to communicate every unspoken word through the press of his mouth against yours. The more he kissed you, the more you felt the heat between your thighs and you realized that, in fact, you really had no control over your sex drive.

You then opened your mouth, letting him sink his tongue into you, pressing your body against his. But he was too far away, and you needed more of his heat, more of him. So, you undid your seat belt and did the only thing that felt natural—you climbed onto his lap.

You both moaned when his cock finally pressed against your core, and he found your lips again, his hand cradling the back of your head while the other rested firmly on your hips, urging you to move. The movement was instinctive, a rhythm that was driven by desperation.

You felt his mouth kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, marking a trail of heat that had you burning for more. Your fingers found the buttons of your shirt, and before you could second guess yourself, you undid them one by one.

Spencer’s hands followed the path you created, tracing the newly exposed skin. His large palms moved along your ribs before they rested just beneath your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples through the fabric of your bra. You gasped, your head falling back in sheer pleasure.

His lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin. His fingers pulled down your bra, exposing your breasts, and when he quickly sucked on your sensitive nub without warning, you bucked your hips, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

His sound of pleasure vibrated against your skin when you moved your hips at a steady pace, the friction driving you both to new heights. You could feel the material of your underwear sticking between your wet folds, and you wished desperately that there was no barrier between you. But time was ticking, and you both knew you were on the clock.

This had to be enough.

Spencer pulled back slightly, your nipple stretching with him, your supple skin following his movements until he let go with a soft pop. He then turned his attention to your other breast, his tongue teasingly circling your hardened nipple before hungrily engulfing it in his mouth.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, your nails digging in slightly as you arched your back. You felt his hands roaming over your waist, holding you steady, grounding you even as you felt yourself spiraling higher into a state of pure ecstasy.

“Spence,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. His response was to look up at you with those intense, brown eyes as he continued to suck on your nipple.

His mouth moved with deliberate precision, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks, driving you completely insane. You could feel your control slipping, your body responding to his every touch, and you found yourself unable to think of anything but him. The way he made you feel, the way his touch ignited every nerve in your body.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him on, lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. His lips left your breast, trailing kisses up your chest and neck until he reached your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

The taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, was everything you had been longing for.

“More,” you whispered against his lips, your voice a desperate plea.

“I know, I know,” he murmured back. “I got you.”

You shook your head, breathless. “I wanna feel you.”

He groaned. How he wanted that to happen, but you were both gone long enough and reality was beginning to intrude on your stolen moment.

“We can’t, not here,” he said, his voice strained with desire as he rested his forehead against yours. “We don’t have enough time.”

You bit your lip, trying to push back the disappointment. “I know, but I-I need you.”

“Soon,” he promised. “When we have more time, I’ll give you everything you need.”

Your hips moved faster. “Everything?”

He nodded, his eyes fluttering close when he felt you pressing harder on his cock. “Everything.”

“You’ll finally fuck me?”

His breath hitched at your bold words, his control slipping further.

“Say it. Say you’ll fuck me.”

His self-control wavered, the raw desire in your voice pushed him to the edge as his palms gripped your ass.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

You never thought there would be a time when you’d hear those words from him, and yet here you were, craving for more. You nodded and grinded against him, trying to find that delicious pressure on your clit.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice laced with urgency. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

Spencer groaned, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in closer. “Then imagine me inside you,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Think about my cock sliding into you, filling you up completely.”

“F-Fuck,” you gasped, moving against him rhythmically. Who would’ve thought he’d be good at this?

“Imagine my hands gripping your hips, pulling you down onto me,” he continued, his breath warm against your neck. “You’d feel every inch, deep and perfect.”

Your heart pounded as his fantasy played out in your thoughts. “Yes,” you gasped, finding it hard to keep steady. “Please, keep going.”

“I’d set a rhythm that drives you crazy,” he murmured. “Fast, then slow, teasing you, drawing out every moan and gasp until you’re begging me not to stop.”

“Oh God…” you moaned. “Please…”

He continued, relentless and commanding. “And when you’re close, when you’re right on the edge, I’d look into your eyes, whisper how beautiful you are, how good you feel wrapped around me…”

“Spencer, I—”

“And then I’d thrust harder, deeper,” he cut off your words, his tone intense. He pressed a hand against your lower abdomen as if to illustrate his point. “I’d fill you completely, over and over, until all you can do is cling to me and take it.”

You were practically trembling now, his words and slight touches driving you wild.

“I’m so close,” you managed to breathe out, your movements becoming less rhythmic and more desperate. His hands went back to your hips. His grip tightened, steadying and encouraging your frantic movements as he felt his own orgasm nearing.

“Come with me,” he whispered, pressing himself closer to you.

His words, his grip, his presence overwhelmed you. You felt the buildup, almost unbearable, as if every nerve in your body focused on the impending release. Then, with a final, mutual push, you felt the wave break.

Pleasure surged through you, intense and all-consuming. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down as he drove himself up, his name spilling from your lips in a cry of release. You felt him tense, heard his own cry muffled against your skin, as he reached his climax with you.

Panting, you both slowed, the car filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the soft hum of the engine in the background. Spencer’s hands softened on your hips, caressing now, soothing the spots where his fingers had pressed.

You ran a hand through his thick hair. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a dirty mouth?”

His grin was both sheepish and proud as he met your gaze. “You’re actually the first person to hear it.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his hands carefully adjusting your clothes. “It seems you have a way of bringing out a side of me I didn’t know I had.”

You watched him, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. There was so much you wanted to say, so many feelings swirling inside you, but the words felt too fragile for the moment. Instead, you settled for the silence.

Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He tapped your hip gently, drawing your attention. “Come on, I think we need to drop by the hotel before we go back to the station.”

When he caught the startled look you sent him, he laughed.

“To change my pants. Nothing else.”

“…oh.”

“You sound disappointed.”

You blushed, caught off guard by his remark and your own reaction. “No, I just—” you started, then paused, searching for the right words. “I mean, yes, maybe a little.”

His smile widened, pleased by your response. “I’ll tell you what,” he began. “After we finish this case, after we fly back, let’s spend time together. Just you and me.”

Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt. You wondered what it would be like to have him pressed against you with nothing between you, to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat directly under your palms.

The thought made you both nervous and excited at the same time.

“Really?”

He leaned in for a kiss. “Really.”

“You promise?”

He smiled against your lips.

“I promise.”

[fleurre]

MORNING KISSES ⋆ 재윤

jake x gn! reader  ⸝⸝  in which . . . jake refuses to wake up until you shower him with kisses and affection. genre: pure fluff. cw: kissing. 0.6k words.

“it’s time to wake up.” you kneeled down next to the bed, brushing away a strand of stray hair that covered jake’s face.

jake’s brows furrowed as he let out a low grunt. opening his eyes groggily, he blinked a few times to adjust to the warm glow pooling in from the window. the crease between his brows relaxed a little when his eyes landed on you, his face breaking into a sleepy smile and his arms reached out to you, pulling you back into the bed.

“just five more minutes.” his voice was husky, but behind the roughness of his morning voice was a soft, craving plea. he buried his face against shoulder, his soft hair tickling your neck. “please.”

it took every fibre in your body to force yourself to push away his comforting warmth. you propped yourself up against his chest on your forearms, trying to reason with him. “you can’t be late today.”

jake hummed in agreement, but his arms were still wrapped firmly around your waist, and it didn’t seem like he had any intention of letting go.

“jake.” you said sternly, trying to wriggle out of his hold. jake ignored your attempts to break free, instead, he placed a hand behind your neck, pulling you back into his embrace.

“jake.” you repeated in your best attempt at sounding stern, but your voice just sounded muffled against his shirt.

“gimme a kiss first.” jake mumbled, his breath ticking against your ear.

you could feel your resolve slowly crumbling away with every passing second, but you gathered yourself together with the last bits of your willpower. “no kisses until you get out of bed.”

jake pouted at your statement. “just one? please.”

he stared at you expectantly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. there was now a smug smile plastered on his face, as if he was certain that you would give in.

and he was right.

you sighed in defeat, lifting your head slightly to place a chaste kiss on his lips, a smile creeping up your own face as you felt the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile.

“awake now?”

jake frowned when you pulled away. “more.”

you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief, and the sound sent a bloom of warmth to his chest. you grabbed his face between your hands, giving him a stare that said fine, you win, before you peppered his entire face with kisses.

if you had known what would happen after that morning, maybe you wouldn’t have given in to his wishes that easily. but who was to blame you? the tingle of his breath against your skin, the warmth of his arms wrapped around you, and the mixture of mischief and devotion twinkling in his eyes.

and from that day onwards, you would have to face the consequences and shower jake with a generous amount of kisses every morning just to get him out of bed.

you simply couldn’t refuse him.

[lessi-lover]

sneaky II c.foord x k.mccabe

katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader

★ ~ k.mccabe x c.foord

caitlin knew that for a normally well behaved kid like yourself, you were picking up an awful bad amount of scrappy habits from both your parents and their teammates.

it started of simple, with you resulting to repeating some not so child friendly words that you had heard mam say whilst she was trying to put together your new big girl bed, since your old one had grown to small for a newly three year old you and caitlin had been begging katie to put it together for months now.

then came the sneakiness that you had likely picked up off your mums teammates, as teyah and vic always counted on you to steal them extra gummies from the lolly jar, until kim had seen you climbing up on the counter and put them a little too high up for you to reach.

still you made the older scot promise she would keep it a secret from you mum, even offering her a gummy as a way of hushing the arsenal captain. and although she took it regardless warning you she shouldn't see you climbing up again without an adult.

even katie wasn't quite sure how in the six months since she brought you a pre - season training for the first time that you'd decided that not only were you allowed to repeat every little thing she said, but you also apparently had the right to take as much chocolate from the kitchen at home as you wanted.

it had gotten a few weeks into you smuggling chocolate that was only as a special treat into your bedroom, when katie found you lifting your small body up onto the kitchen counter and hoisting yourself up to open the top shelf.

if only you hadn't been singing to yourself whilst doing it, you may have noticed the way your mam crept up behind you and tugged you into her arms. "what are you doing ya little cheek?" she giggled, tickling your stomach, laughing at your attempt to escape her arms and call for help from the cat who only purred and snuck away.

"nofin," you replied instantly. a poker face on that you were maybe too young to have mastered, but still catching your breath, you wheezed and pushed her prodding fingers away.

katie shook her head at your accent, your voice a complete and utter mess of the australian and irish accents of your parents which you seemed to have adopted into a mush of different words and phrases you had picked up from the pair.

she had noticed that you had integrated a few australian words that she hadn't heard even caitlin say before, but she blamed it on the fact that they kept letting kyra babysit when they needed a night off.

"sure about that cheeky? cause the chocolate all over your face says differently." she questioned and you give her a fowl look in return, shocked at why she would think you would take chocolate, even if the incriminating evidence was smeared all over your cheeks.

"not chocolate!" you try to convince your mam, who you think slightly believes you before she leans her face down and kisses all over your face. "hmm. maybe it's not chocolate." she says sarcastically, lowering your body to the ground and chuckling as you immediately run off in search of your cat.

katie thinks it's kind of funny that you think you got away with it and she's sure caitlin would have had something to say about you taking the chocolate you're only meant to have on special occasions. but she let it go because she really did think you looked cute with the chocolate melting on your small face, even if it was her favourite kind.

you're still smiling when you return to the kitchen with cooper in your grasp, the grey cat seeming to be licking the evidence of your face as you fed him cat biscuits and showed him to his water bowl next to the counter.

"who taught you how to get onto the counter cheeky?" she questions finally, amused by the game you seem to be playing with the cat, waving a feather toy around in your hand as his eyes follow you eagerly.

"viccy." you answered, completely distracted by the way cooper seems to try and swat the toy out of your hands, which you lifted above your head to make him jump higher.

katie sighs, she knew of course it had to be either kyra or vic who had taught you how to get up on the counter, and it only proved her point further that she had walked in on the three of you whispering away the other day during break time.

katie checks the time on the stove, caitlin should be home soon, she had been in town with the aussie girls and had left the two of you to make dinner at home for when she got back.

katie lifted you off the floor and back onto the kitchen counter. "got up myself mam!" you complained, trying to lift yourself back down as katie kept you stable on the marble top.

"i know cheeky. you going to help me make dinner for mummy?" and you were immediately distracted, completely forgetting that you wanted to get down and instead interested in what was for dinner.

"what food mam?" you asked, waving your hands in her face as she read through the recipe caitlin had sent her, raising a brow when she realised half the recipe was most definitely not in the fridge or pantry.

looking puzzled for a minute, katie weighed the possible dinner she could make in her head, and leaning more towards takeaway she turned to meet you with a matching grin.

"you know what cheeky, i reckon we order in some nandos." she chuckled, pulling out her phone to look at the menu. "yay nandos!" you shrieked in excitement, you had been there enough times after games that you loved the resturant.

it was just as your mam was about to call, that you heard your mummy's key twist in the doorknob, sliding of the counter next to a distracted katie and running towards the door.

"mummy!" you smiled, the australian lifting you up into her arms and kissing your cheek. "hey lovie." caitlin sighed, resting your body on her hip as she put her bags down by the door and hung her keys on the rack.

"did you have fun with mam?" she asked you, listening as you described the movie you had watched that afternoon. caitlin couldn't count how many times you had watched frozen, it seemed to be your favourite movie and you always convinced them to let you watch it again some way or another.

"and then elsa saved the forest people!" you exclaimed, using your free hand to show your mummy how she freed the elements from the forest. "missed you." you grinned, kissing your mummy's cheek just as she you had seen your mam do this morning before you got ready for preschool.

"honey i'm home!" caitlin laughed, walking into the kitchen to a katie on the phone as she kissed her lips softly, walking past with you still in her arms to grab a glass of water.

"mummy can we pretty please bake brownies!" you asked hopefully, having quickly seen them on the menu katie was looking at when caitlin carried you past and now that was exactly what you wanted.

"maybe cheeky, ask your mam." caitlin responded, a usual for the couple as they always passed on the permission to the other when they didn't know what to say to you.

"mam pretty please can we make brownies!" you whined, putting on your most best angel eyes like lessi had taught you when you wanted to get something from someone.

sure enough, katie couldn't say no to your face when your lip gently jutted over the other and you looked almost to tears if she hadn't allowed you sooner.

"yes cheeky. we can make brownies whilst we wait for the food." she gave in, her hand tickling under your chin as your frown converted into a bright smile just as she knew it would. your mummy doesn't like when katie just allows you to reign terror, but she doesn't think she could stop you herself either.

delivering you back into your mam's arms, you resulted to playing another game you had made in which you would put your hand on the counter and katie would place her own over your smaller hand and so on until she would grab you and tickle you until you were in a fit of giggles.

"katie why is there no chocolate in the pantry?"

[20-th-centurygirl]

celebrity crush

jude bellingham x fem!reader

summary: jude's very public attempts at bagging his celebrity crush

faceclaim: imaan hammam bc i'm obsessed with her

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𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

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judebellingham: 😍😍

bellahadid: beautiful girl !

yourusername: no you !!

user: she's so mother

user: i want to be her when i grow up (i'm older than her)

user: frr i cannot believe she's 20

user: no cause her and jude are both so mature ?

user: not her ignoring jude's comment 😭😭

user: queen knows her worth

yourusername started following judebellingham

twitter:

user: y/n's following jude?!

user: i bet he's screaming rn

user: jude x y/n it's on

user: i hope they date soo bad

judebellingham added to their story

↳ yourusername: i like that song

↳ judebellingham: we've got something in common then 😉

↳ yourusername: i'm not cocky

↳ judebellingham: oh

judebellingham added to their story

↳ yourusername: maybe i'm starting to change my mind about you 🤭

↳ judebellingham: oh yeah?

↳ yourusername: maybeee

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, kaiagerber and 6,208,792 others

🇪🇸❤️

view all 986,743 comments

user: she's in madrid 👀👀

judebellingham: if you need a tour guide just let me know 😉

yourusername: maybe i'll have to take you up on that offer sometime

user: HELLO? THEIR COMMENTS

user: omg it's happening

user: JUDE AND Y/N JUDE AND Y/N

judebellingham: hi

judebellingham: since you're in madrid i was wondering if you wanted to come to one of my games? i can sort you tickets

yourusername: you're very full of yourself sometimes bellingham

judebellingham: sorry i didn't mean it like that. i just thought you might want to because you like football

yourusername: i'm joking

yourusername: i'd love to jude

judebellingham: really??

yourusername: yes 🫶🏾

yourusername added to their story

twitter:

user: Y/N IS AT A MADRID GAME THIS IS NOT A DRILL ‼️

user: OMG

user: i can't believe he actually pulled her

judebellingham

liked by yourusername, jobebellingham and 9,815,784 others

CHAMPIONS OF EUROPE

view all 2,619,583 comments

yourusername: well done 🤍

judebellingham: thank you 🫶🏾

jobebellingham: some guy

user: Y/N AND JUDE ‼️

user: y/n and jude are endgame

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 4,896,752 others

lately 🌻🌷🪻

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judebellingham: i like those flowers

yourusername: thanks

user: did jude buy her those flowers??

user: she's so beautiful

judebellingham liked this comment

judebellingham

liked by yourusername,trentarnold66 and 8,715,968 others

everybody's wearing skims

view all 2,375,981 comments

yourusername: 🤤🤤

judebellingham: you can see me like this whenever you want

user: Y/N'S COMMENT

user: AND JUDE'S REPLY

user: they're the it couple

judebellingham liked this comment

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 6,106 984 others

summer lovin

view all 3,206,498 comments

user: OMGOMGOMG

jobebellingham: love youse

user: what

user: i can't believe he managed to pull her

judebellingham: neither can i

user: parents

judebellingham added to their story

[brailsthesmolgurl]

LOSE YOU TO LOVE YOU

Preview: You had to lose your lover to protect them against harm but what happens when someday, fate connects the two of you again? Warnings: Angsty but yes to fluff too, slightly-slightly suggestive towards the end! this is gonna be a bit of a lengthy read as always

P.S: This is an extremely detailed request by one of you guys, its a bit challenging for me to write it hence I decided to take it upon my own twist for the story. Or else, I might actually get so demotivated to write this piece and I do not wish for that. Overall plot would still be half-preserved but I had decided not to use any names just for the overall inclusivity for other readers. Great ideas should be shared and I think my readers would like to be included too in this wonderful plot :)

"What...what have you put into this y/n?" Rafayel stumbled, the mug slipped out of his hand when his legs started buckling beneath him. He was in disbelief as he watched the mug broke upon impact against the hard tiled floor. It was like time had slowed down for him and he could only blame the orange juice he had drank. "Y/N!" He calls out to you again, hands now clasping onto his slender neck when he slowly crumpled to the ground. Yet, his calls for you fell upon deaf ears, four walls on each side of the room watched him suffer.

You peeked over the heavy door leading to his room and your eyes watered at the sight of your fiance lying motionless on the ground. Knocking him out is the only way you can think of the moment you were threatened by an elite group of assassins. They are the reason behind his bounty value--that had exceeded by two million-- and they presented the only option for you to 'save him' is by leaving him.

They cornered you on one of the days when you were out dealing with Wanderers. Although you are fairly combative, one woman against a dozen of elite assassins would not grant you a survival route. Hence, you were practically forced to listen to their proposal. Not much details were disclosed to you about why they were willing to retract the bounty for your fiance but you figured if he could live a better and safer life without a bounty hung on his head then why not? Even if you were to be at their disposal.

"Leave him and he shall walk like a free man he once was." You remembered the grim voice of a man as he relayed the terms and conditions to you. "We do not seek a confrontation here as you are with child."

Flashing back to the present, you lightly rubbed your belly, still wondering how they know of your pregnancy when it was not even announced to Rafayel. This further tells that those assassins are not to be messed with. "I am sorry." You knelt down beside your lover, studying his peaceful features as he was snoozing. "I am sorry I have to do this to you. I promise you that I will be back for you when the time is right." Pushing yourself off of the floor, you left without turning your head back. Each step taken ripped your heart out of your chest even more.

Years had gone by, with you disappearing off of the grid and went into hiding. During then, you had been living under a pseudonym, revamping your whole image and identity to go full on undercover. You did this because you did not want Rafayel, nor anyone from your past to track you down. However, peacefulness does not last long when news of Rafayel’s bounty is on the rise again and it got you wondered what he could have done to piss them off. You did some digging yourself. With the help of your new identity, you can slip in and out of the clubs without a worry. Eavesdropping just enough to get the information you need to propagate further in tracking down the same man who once threatened you to leave Rafayel.

The trail has led you back to Linkon City and you stood at the balcony of the unit you had rented, overlooking the scenic view of the concrete jungle below. The city has changed a lot since the last you had been here and that is probably years ago. “Mummy.” A child-like voice snapped you out of your reminisce and you looked down, watching the toddler walking up to you. A perfect photocopy of your ex-lover; with dark purple locks smooth to one’s touch and eyes the same as his hair. He is like a doughy-faced version of Rafayel. The child that you bear while you left Rafayel now stood in front of you, eyes full of hope before another similar face joins him. Yes, you gave birth to twins. The other is yet another photocopied version of Rafayel, but adorns the eyes as deep as the blue sea. That is how you manage to tell them apart from one another.

“Mummy you okay?” The blue-eyed toddler followed up with the question. Although only been in this world for three years, the both of them had grown so much, not only in terms of height but also knowledge and other aspects that would commonly be found within a toddler’s growing age. They inherited Rafayel’s artistic talent; always doting on painting to pass time whenever you are home with them. Whereas from you, they certainly are highly adaptable and smart. “We go for walk mummy?”

“Yes, let’s go for a walk.” You stood upon and went over to the front door to grab your coat, handing the twins their coats as well. “Put them on alright, the night is going to be chilly and I do not want you guys to be sick.” Out of habit, you slotted your baseball cap right over your head. It is a good strategy to not stand out from the crowd when you get to shield parts of your face at certain angles. You grabbed your wallet and phone and proceeded to walk out with the twins.

Nights in cities are never boring; with bustling traffic and chatters hailing from crowds. This was what you had missed out on for the past years. Staying by the countryside does have its perks but still, you missed the noises of a city that is alive. Dank pathways were sprawled out at the park as you walked with your toddlers by your side. The rain had just subsided and it smelled of dew and silt. But, something seemed off. There were hints of metallic smell in the air, a smell closely resembled to fresh blood. You stopped in your steps and started scanning the area, your ears perked up to maximise picking up even the slightest of gales. “I’m scared mummy.” Your toddler had seemed to pick up on the shift of aura as well.

A twig snapped and you too, snapped yourself towards the source of the sound, shielding your kids by pushing them behind you and hands dug deep into your coat, ready to draw out your weapon if danger ensues. Your eyes were narrowed into slits, relying on dimly lit street lamps to highlight the bushes in front of you. “You know what you should do right?” You looked down, watching your toddlers nod towards you. They were already trained from young to flee should there be any situation that requires them to. Both of them have a watch equipped with a navigation system that will lead them directly to the nearest police station or anywhere that is a confirmed safe house for them. With that, you ushered them and watched as your kids held hands with one another and started to tread lightly out of the park, the watch illuminating their way.

You pulled out your gun the moment an amorphous figure emerged from the bushes and before it could reach you, it burst into flames, screams of agony like a banshee on a killing spree tore through the empty park. Luckily, your children had already fled and a beep on your watch notified you that your kids are safe, and they are currently back to the unit that you had rented. You lowered your gun and stared at the tallowing figure in front of you, the blazoning red tinge of flames looked familiar, it was as if you had seen it—“Y/n?” You blinked, looking up to find another figure emerging from the same path taken by the man who had now disintegrated into ashes and blended into the night skies. “Is that you?”

“Rafayel?” Your jaw dropped, watching him emerged from the bushes. It must be because you missed him so dearly that your mind decided to deploy a mirage of him amidst danger right? It’s like those final wish scenes and you could not help but feel goosebumps slowly drawn to the surface of your arms. “You’re not real.”

The man in black clomped over and you stumbled backwards, gasps fleeting out of your lips as you thought you just saw a ghost. “Careful.” The grip on your arm gravitated you back to reality. You are now staring right into the eyes of your ex-lover, the same guy you thought was killed because there were no news of him anymore. The same man that you were forced to leave in order to protect his safety. The love of your life, the father to your twins. “You are back.” He enveloped you into his arms, his breath disheveled, his tone of voice ebullient. You were expecting a frustrated Rafayel, not forgiving you for leaving him, not acknowledging your existence because you had left him so suddenly without a reason.

Yet, you could not seem to fathom his current state as he held you tightly in his arms. Rafayel had been nothing but the bearer of a deft husk of a ‘widow’. Ever since he woke up to an empty home, he became relentless. Thomas too, was greatly affected by his melange of emotions. Everyone else who worked around him were forced to be more obsequious than ever, showcasing utmost sycophancy in fear of getting panned by the artist. For he had went through a change of heart, thirsting only for revenge upon the group of people that took away his lover. Succour was indeed offered by Thomas, to seek out information regarding your whereabouts. Rafayel agreed and thanked him, providing him all of the money needed to seek you out but deep inside, he knew that finding you would not be a simple matter and his worry haunted him further.

The walk back to your place was awkward, one-sidedly perhaps. Rafayel had not stopped talking, telling you about his journeys of tracking down every single one of the members of the elite group and threatening them to spill their guts about your whereabouts. Given that you left him on your own will, none of the men knew where you had migrated to and that literally got their guts spilled afterwards. He then went on, telling you about how he had handled the truth of you leaving him, that, when it came to a certain point in his life, he was the one that caused you the suffering instead. His words did travelled into your ears, but it was not being processed properly as you were too occupied on thinking about how does one tell their long time lover that they had became a father without their knowing?

The both of you stood at the front of your door now, you praying quietly to yourself, hoping Rafayel would not freak out if he were to meet both of your twins upon stepping into the entrance. You imprinted your thumbprint on the scanner and the door unlocked with a crisp click. Two sets of footsteps were heard clomping towards where you stood and you looked over to Rafayel immediately to analyse his reactions towards your twins. “Mummy— who’s this?” The both of your twins immediately froze, being only a couple of steps away and their eyebrows were strewn together in confusion. The father of the twins stood frozen too, eyes darting in between the two toddlers, noticing the familiar and yet uncanny features of theirs.

When Rafayel got to the leader of the elite group, he was foretold that you were pregnant when you left but he supposed that he was unable to take a grasp of time after you had left. Both of the boys are a bit taller than kids of their age, both rocking the same purple locks as his, pallid and flabby cheeks that Rafayel was certain to own when he was younger back in the days and not to mention, the both of them got your lips. Every lip motion is a total reflection of you. “You were pregnant with them when you left me right?” You took the note that Rafayel does probably know of the existence of you having a child but maybe, he is still in shock, not expecting twins at all. You nodded in response to his question.

Rafayel got onto his knees and smiled, tears started jerking around in his eye sockets, tainting his purplish-pink eyes a glassy tint. “I am your father.” He opened his arms to the twins but your kids cautiously looked over to you, awaiting for the confirmation as they had never seen their father before. Upon noticing your nod and smile, the twins squealed in surprise and hurtled themselves into his arms. Just like that, a family reunion happened.

“You already got them to bed?” Couple of hours later, Rafayel had placed the two reluctant twins of his to bed. Given both of the kids had been longing to have a father figure in their life, a few hours of interaction with Rafayel are definitely not enough for them. However, bed time at 9pm came to be an obstacle for the twins. Yawns started replacing laughs and Rafayel knew it was time to call off play time and switch to story time. You would usually read them to bed and Rafayel thought it is a great idea to put the kids at ease by telling his story, portraying himself to be the main protagonist set out on a journey to save a princess and to rescue her minions as well. The princess being you and yes the minions are the twins.

“Yeah, they could barely listen to my story for five minutes.” Rafayel plopped down next to you on the couch and extended his arm across your back, an invitation for you to lean against his shoulder and you did just that. “I might have went a little hard on them for the tag game.” That explains the heavy stomps and patters of footsteps coming from the room and hallways just now as you were taking a rest. You settled your longing gaze on your fiancé, realising that years had done no harm to him. The same hairstyle that he wears without much styling, the same siren like eyes that only holds you as the apple of his eyes, the same moles that were dotted across his face and the same warm smile he could ever emblazoned onto his features when it comes to being around you. He never changed.

As your insecurity started to settle upon you, particularly towards your own looks. Where time and stress has taken a toll on you, imprinting its effects with fine lines and wrinkles on your face, painting dark circles under your eyes and causing you to constantly wear a fatigued smile. “Do I look different to you even after all of those years Rafayel?” You peered up to him.

“My love.” Rafayel’s warm hand came up to caress your pinched cheeks, you had indeed became much more thinner than he last seen you, before you left him. He knew you must have not suffered any lesser when you had to constantly be on the run while having to bring up both of the kids by yourself as well. But, part of him was grateful that you no longer had to run, for he had eliminated every single member of the damned association. “You still look the same as how you always were.” His eyes wandered, down your cheeks and to your lips and back up again, lust wriggling its way through his gaze. “I missed you dearly my wife. I promise you that no matter what happens ever again, I will not let anyone convince you to leave me anymore. For I, will take full responsibility for the safety of our family.”

Your eyes reflected like glass under the dim lighting, words of affirmation coming from your lover after such a long time seized all of the rumination in your head. You did not notice the streaks of tears till you felt the pads of his thumbs swiped across both sides of your cheeks, his hand now fully cupping your small face. “Now, may I take the responsibility to care for my wife and to make love to you all night to prove my love to you?” The words he spoke were laced heavily with romance and lust that he had held back for years and little did you know, he is going to give you another child and make up for all of the lost times with you and his children.

A request from @cherriejoyponce, fulfilled with my own twist. Hope you like it!

[hwanchaesong]

Of glasses and performances

a/n: writing this realquick for my pookie @yzzyhee really just a drabble buT IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS. kind of inspired by this post lmao ✌🏼💀 also hee looks so fucking good in specs tffff literally writing this before i sleep so yeah, pls ignore any mistakes

warnings & genre: idolbf!hee, afab!reader, smut smut smut, public sex, p in v raw etc etc lmao minors dni!!! not proofread ‼️(hee fucking u into oblivion backstage after seeing u in the crowd at his group's concert)

---------------------------------------------------

You saw it. You fucking saw it.

Fighting for the front stage section of their concert is one thing. Obtaining the sexiest outfit to wear is the second thing. But seeing your oh so charming boyfriend up on the platform, performing his heart out and suddenly making eye-contact with him is just... doing things to you.

The blinding lights are not a hindrance for you to truly witness how majestic Lee Heeseung is.

Him in that black outfit, styled hair and that glasses is so fucking flawless. Then you watch him squat near the edge of the stage, his hazel orbs scanning the crowd and he makes eye-contact with you.

Time seemed to have stopped when you noticed a certain glint in his eyes, dark irises scanning your figure and you saw how he tried to hide his smirk, masking it as an expression befitting of their performance.

But you know that once you're hidden from the public, chaos will ensue.

And your instincts are always right.

Once the concert was over, you headed backstage but you were blocked by Heeseung, no words were needed as he dragged you near an empty hallway, making sure that no one is around before he does what he wants.

Pinning your wrists above your head with only one hand, he leans down and lets his breath fan all over your face as his other free hand settles itself on your hips, dangerously creeping inside your scanty dress, "Didn't think you'd wear an outfit that exposes too much skin, baby."

You examine his poorly wiped face, still sweaty probably because he hurried his way out to meet you in the middle instead of making himself more presentable, keen on keeping you alone for himself.

No worries though, he's attractive and gorgeous just the same. The messiness of his appearance just adds to the tingling that you're currently feeling.

"Well," you inclined your head to match the level of his lips, "can't blame me for wanting to look pretty for my very hardworking boyfriend."

That was the end of your short conversation with him, which you believe is the foreplay as you have now found yourself in a rather mind and body bending situation in public.

Hoisted and back flattened against the cemented, cold wall and your lovely dress is bunched up your waist. Panties ripped off and is now currently stashed in your boyfriend's pocket, which you assume he'll use in the future to relieve some frustrations when he's not with you.

Your moans reverberate across the abandoned hallway, music in Heeseung's ears as it triggers him to do more.

Faster, harder, and harsher.

The loud squelching of where the two of you are connected should have been embarrassing for you, but no fucks are given since Heeseung is already giving you all the fucking that you desire.

His thrusts are wild, relentless and undoubtedly, heavenly. The sole reason for each plunge is to send you into utopia.

You can feel his thick cock dragging on your insides, striking your cervix every time he goes in deep, the pulsating vein on the side of his length scratches your drench walls quite wonderfully, causing you to get wetter, probably creating a huge disarray down there.

One particular languid stroke had your back arching on the wall, legs wrapping securely around Heeseung's hips as he hit a delicate, spongy spot inside you.

Jackpot, he thinks, as your insides cling tighter to him like you do at the moment.

A string of curses left him when your nails rake at his nape, gently playing with his hair, eliciting a groan from him as the sensation is feathery yet sensual, a weakness of him that only you can bring out.

"Fuck baby," he rasps, concentrating at the sounds that you're making while he continuously rams into you, "you feel so fucking good. All for me yeah?"

You mewled his name desperately, the knot in your lower belly is getting ready to be snapped, "Yes Hee. I'm yours, all yours f-fuck, you own all of me."

Ah, the things you do to him. If you tried sitting in his brain then you'd be shocked by the images and thoughts that are filled with you, you, and you.

Some are fluffy but most are nasty though you are sure to love it. Of course you will, you're down bad for him just as he is for you.

He wasn't giving you any time to catch your breath as he wasted no time in kissing you, searing and hot, shoving his tongue down your throat that you couldn't help but to submit to him without much of a fight.

His tongue clashes with yours before exploring your mouth, the rhythm of the make-out session matches his pace perfectly, only detaching from you when the need for oxygen arises, leaving you gasping and flushed when a string of saliva

His bruising grip on your thighs loosened a bit as he used his left hand to slide the top of your dress, revealing your tits to him. He watches it bounce along with his thrusts for a solid minute before leaning down to capture a nipple.

Tongue flatting and hardening around your bud, circling and sucking while teasing a bit of nibbles, further adding onto the pleasure that you're receiving.

"A-ah! Heeseung, I-I'm-!" closing your eyes in rapture, tilting your head to the side to give access to your lover when he scoots his face in the crook of your neck, embellishing you with purple and blue spots.

"Close?" he whispers, licking the newly painted marks in his canvas called your skin. His peppery smooches snakes up, reaching your ears as he delicately bites your lobe, "Come for me then, baby. Don't hold back."

You moan loudly, one more. One more push and you're gone.

His palm traces the goosebumps on your thigh, and there it is, his deft fingers playing with your clit is all it took for you to gush all over him. A satisfied smirk on his kissable lips shows itself, then it turns into a sly one when he didn't slow down despite your pleading.

Begging him to take it easier since your high took a toll on your sensitivity, thus the overwhelming rapture that had you shaking in his arms.

He laughs menacingly at your futile requests, giving you a sham apology sealed with a kiss. He then murmurs against your lips, "Didn't you tell me that you're mine?"

You nod your head weakly, and that might be a mistake but at the end of this night, you'll realize that mistakes are options that you just haven't chosen. And not all mistakes are bad.

"Then take what I give you, baby. I haven't cum yet, square up until I'm done with you."

[leydenkilgore]

about balancing shifting and your original reality as someone that spends most of their time in their dr

I’ve spent much more time there than I ever have here. So I just feel like I belong there and it’s not really about one specific place or life. I keep coming back here not because I even want to but because it’s just familiar. I don’t use a safe word or anything, and I scripted I forgot I even shifted there to be more authentic. Because I personally always would feel like I was playing a role. Something in the back of my mind tells me I need to go back and I just go back. You can’t get stuck there or need a safe word. Just think you want to go back and you’re back. I think once you outlive your original life by a couple times you start to become naturally less detached to things in your original reality. At least that’s how it was for me. I just feel like there’s not much else I want from this experience. Shifting becomes so much easier the more you succeed and do it. The more apathetic about it, the less your life depends on it. I think for some people that they become too obsessed and reliant on it as an imaginary coping mechanism. There’s nothing wrong with use shifting as a coping mechanism or escapism is that subconsciously you just like the feeling the idea shifting gives you. Not what actively shifting will do for you. And you’re just seeking comfort in the dream of it. It that makes since. And the way to get out of that is to think of it as your life not an imaginary dream world. People that haven’t shifted for more than a few days don’t understand that it’s not just another daydream you fleshed out. It’s your life. Your desired reality will be your life. You’ll wake up there every morning, go to bed there, and experience everything. It’s a universe that has its own physics, its own laws and its real. And there’s differences in each reality people shift to because they want different things and characters there might not behave the same as they do in others.

You shouldn’t have an unhealthy attachment to it where you’re basically an addict. But there’s nothing wrong with treating it like a well loved hobby or favorite comfort. As long as you decided whether you want to live another life or escape to a daydream. Once you decide which one. Just shift. If you want a method find a method decide you shift that way each time or just pick a daydream to comfort yourself with it. That’s it nothing else. About living multiple lives. Sometimes they do run together here but I manifested a pretty low effort life for myself. So I have time to do what I want to do with everything taken care of. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that really take out too much energy so I’m lost in my memories most of the time. For some people that’s a big problem. If that’s a problem for you don’t shift as I often I do. I miss being there but for some reason I don’t want to leave there yet. Even though there’s nothing I want here anymore. I don’t mean that in a depressed way. Literally I just can’t imagine myself even remaining the rest of this year here. And I feel like I’m almost ready to leave here permanently but I don’t know yet.

I can still watch media and things from places I shift to because I’m amused by their behavior, it makes me feel like home I’ve never shifted to the canon world of Attack on Titan. Because I just think it’d be unpleasant. First of all Titans in my drs smell. You can smell them before you see them type of thing. Here’s a rant about something I never get a chance to talk about. Also the Yeager brothers lack in hygiene for some reason. I blame there father. Literally it’s atrocious. They were both clean as like teenagers and looked normal. Eren has very beautiful hair even when it was short. Grischa has very nice hair too. But they both are musty looking. They don’t look clean ever. It’s the strangest thing. And then there’s Zeke. See he can look clean. Eren and Grischa can’t. They just have a musty look about them. Zeke lacks in hygiene by choice. First of all he’s hairy everywhere which makes him scratchy. And he doesn’t know physical boundaries either. I think he knows if actually, I just don’t think it cares. And it’s so weird because in my dr, Grischa only divorced Dina. And she smells like expensive lotion but looks really clean and healthy. I just don’t know. And they’re both very good looking so I think they both get so much attention from the looks that they don’t care anymore. Which frustrates me to no end…But…That’s at least how they are in my drs.

I just finished the end of Ergo Proxy. And I’m so confused but I know when I shift there I’m going to eat so bad. And I’ve been seeing vulture circling around my home which I intended to him when I was close to respawning. But at the same time like what are you trying to tell me. Go shift and thanks for 500 followers!

[kyracooneyx23]

I loved you Leah Williamson fic! I was wondering if you could do a Lucy Bronze x matildas reader where reader and lucy both player for barca and then they verse each other in the world cup semi final

Don't Be Sorry - Lucy Bronze

Lucy bronze x matildas!reader

summary - the Matildas lose to England in the semi final of the womens world cup and you take the blame.

warnings - death threats and hate comments

90+ minutes of you playing your heart out, the hope of a World Cup final promised if your team could get the result you desperately wanted slipped through your fingers as the dreaded sound of the full-time whistle rang through your mind. You collapse to the floor, face buried in your hands as you feel your tears wet the floor around you. The salty taste burned your already parched throat as you sobbed into your hand.

You were never an emotional person over football, but you had the weight of an entire country resting on your shoulders and you had let them down.

This was the moment you had spent your life working towards, ever since you were 4 years old, when you first watched a game of women's football you had made it your goal to one day be like the women you had seen on your screen. You promised yourself that one day you would represent your country in a World Cup, and now that dream had become reality you had stuffed everything up.

The haunting images of the ball flying past you and into the net still haunts you. You had the chance to stop the ball from going in but stuck your leg out too far and the ball went right past.

Not only did you feel like you had let down your fans, you had let down your teammates as well. It was your job as the team's main center-back to stop the goals and you failed. It was a stupid mistake for Tony to pick you to start, even more stupid that he'd kept you on the full game.

You felt the England player's hands patting you softly on the back, but you didn't bother getting up to congratulate them on their success not feeling up to facing other people.

'Hey, it's going to be ok y/n/n.' You hear the soft, comforting whisper of your captain, whose voice makes you sob even harder. You roll over onto your back so you can see her properly, out of everyone on this pitch you knew you owed her a proper apology.

'I'm so sorry Sam.' Your voice is hoarse and it pains you to see her tear-stained cheeks 'I let the whole team down, I know how much this meant to you. I'm sorry for ruining it, you deserved the win.' You burst into tears again as your captain pulled you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back to try and calm you down.

'This is not your fault.' She says, her voice is stern but you know she's not using the tone in a mean way, 'You played your heart out. I'm not allowing you or anyone to take the blame for the result. Every single person who has pulled on the green and gold jersey this tournament needs to be proud of everything they have done. We've made history this World Cup and that can't be forgotten because of one game. We still have the bronze medal match, we need to dust ourselves off and focus on winning that.' Your breathing slows down, knowing you were overreacting and that Sam was right. You needed to concentrate on the third-place game, there was still a chance to bring home some silverware for your country.

As you rose from the ground, extending congratulations to several of the Lionesses for their victory, you found yourself mid-conversation with Kyra and Mini. Suddenly, you felt the gentle embrace of two arms encircling your waist and a head nestling into the curve of your neck.

You turn around, enveloping your girlfriend in an embrace, the silent language of your intertwined bodies speaks more than any words could in the moment. It was a relief to be in the arms that felt more like home than anywhere else, her presence was all you needed to feel slightly better. Tears trickle down your cheeks again, a release from the flood of emotions that have become too overwhelming.

After a while the silence is broken 'I'm so sorry,' Lucy whispers into your ear 'I know how much this meant to you baby, I wish it didn't have to end this way.' You shake your head at her words, not wanting to ruin the special moment that she had also worked so hard for.

'Luc, don't be sorry. I'm not hearing it. Go and make the most of this moment. You deserve it.' You say pulling out of the hug, not wanting your disappointment to ruin her occasion, you knew better than anyone how much effort Lucy put into getting here in her career.

Lucy looks at you with sincerity in her eyes, you can see how excited she is to have made it to a World Cup final, but she still stays with you instead of celebrating with her team. You know you would've done the same thing if the roles were reversed but you still feel bad for keeping her away. 'Babe, go celebrate, I know you want to.' You tell her, your tone almost demanding.

But she doesn't leave your side and for the next 15 minutes she's constantly peppering your face with kisses and expressing words of admiration and respect, acknowledging the relentless dedication you had put into getting here. You keep trying to push her away but she refuses to leave, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and keeping you tucked as close to her as she possibly could not letting you free anytime soon.

Whilst you walk around the pitch together the fact that you two are rivals dissolves, no one would know that one of you had just lost to the other in a World Cup semi-final if it wasn't for the two different jerseys the two of you were wearing.

You gaze at her, and you know that you look like the biggest simp for her as you send her a loving look. The fan's edits after this match would be crazy.

The two of you were a popular couple that the fans adored even though you two had never properly gone public with your relationship, you just weren't the best at keeping it much of a secret.

Neither of you minded though, you found both the tiktoks quite funny.

After a little more walking around with Lucy, you know you can't let her stay with you any longer. 'You've poured your heart into every match, every training session,' you murmur, your voice barely a whisper against the loud atmosphere. 'You deserve this win more than anyone. This victory is yours, you've earned it through all your determination and hard work. Now please go and celebrate, I know that you'll be greatly missed in the changing rooms. I refuse to keep you to myself anymore, we'll have so much time just the two of us back in Barca. I love you, now enjoy your win' You tell her managing to wriggle free from her tight grip and place a light kiss on her lips, which she tries to deepen before you pull away laughing lightly at her clinginess.

'I love you sunshine.' She tells you blowing you a kiss before running over to her teammates who all bring her in for a large group hug. You smile at her almost forgetting how you'd felt only a short time ago.

Seeing Lucy happy made you happy.

'Hello, Miss Bronze.' Caitlin says standing beside you and you can hear the smirk in her voice. 'Care to join your team anytime soon or are you going to keep staring at your girl like a freak for the rest of the night?' She laughs and you shove her slightly.

'I'm coming, you can piss off now.' You tell the brunette, following her towards the team huddle not too far away from where you were. Steph and Kyra wrap their arms around you as you squeeze into the team circle.

The circle is quieter than your previous huddles, the energy gone from the disappointing loss and everyone exhausted from the game you'd just played.

Tony speaks to everyone, telling us it's not over yet and we can't stop working. The talk is coming to an end when he begins to talk about how we should all be very proud of ourselves 'You girls should all be extremely proud of what you have done,' he waves his hand across the sea of fans in green and gold, still screaming and cheering despite the loss. 'Every single one of you has won the hearts of a nation, you have inspired generations to come, and have changed the future of women's football in Australia. That is an incredible achievement.' A small round of applause echoes throughout the group and Tony finishes up the talk letting everyone head off.

All the girls do one more lap of the field, thanking the fans for their support before quickly getting changed and heading back to the hotel, everyone wanting a good nights rest after the long day.

The next day, the bright sun and Kyra's snoring wakes you up. You chuck a pillow at her, laughing at her annoyed grunts and swearing before getting out of bed, showering, and getting changed. You're quick, not wanting to be late for Lucy as the two of you had planned to go out for coffee this morning. You were excited to see how hungover she would be, you'd be surprised if she even managed to get out of bed this morning.

You weren't meant to be meeting Lucy until 10 and it was only 9:15 when you got out of the shower, so you took the extra time to scroll on your phone.

You had hardly thought about the game last night, knowing it would only affect your upcoming game if you worried about that too much. But as you open your phone, which you hadn't been on since before the game, your stomach twists and you feel like you're going to be sick.

A million notifications pop up on your screen. DM's of people telling you to kill yourself and posts that tagged you showing the two goals you couldn't stop yesterday. You tried not to read them but there were too many and you couldn't stop yourself.

Y/N L/N can go fucking throw herself off the Sydney Harbor Bridge for all I care. What a fucking joke this is, I knew women's football would suck. You're telling me that a 'professional' fullback can't stop the easiest goals. hope she fucking dies, let down a whole country.

Morning Y/N, hope you slept terribly last night. Let down a whole country with your shit performance. I'm sure many people would appreciate it if you took a break from football and found a job you're good at. I don't want to see you step foot on a pitch ever again and if you do I'll make sure you're sorry for it.

L/N just proves that female athletes are all just sluts, lost her team a world cup semi-final and all she did after the game was eye fuck Lucy Bronze, what happened to being a team player?

Hi Y/N, thanks to you my daughter cried herself to sleep last night, what happened to inspiring all the young girls, get a fucking life and get back into the kitchen. women like you don't belong on a football pitch. Never touch a football again thanks.

There were so many, all saying the same kind of things that it all just blurred together. Your thoughts from yesterday returned and all you could think about was about how all these people were right. You let down your country and you were a joke.

You were so caught up in everything that you hardly noticed the time slowly tick past 10:15 and all the notifications from Lucy asking where you were. You just sat on your bed, not quite sure what to do. You'd never felt more like a failure in your life, tears poured down your face they were practically choking you but you didn't mind.

You had let down your country and thousands of people agreed with you.

When you didn't answer Lucy's fifth call she got seriously worried. You always had your phone on you and you never ignored Lucy's calls. She called you one more time and when you didn't answer, she took matters into her own hands.

As soon as the Uber arrived outside your hotel, Lucy sprinted up to your room. Until security stopped her at the front desk, demanding that she prove that she was staying at the hotel before they let her in.

She was begging them for a good five minutes until it got to the point when she was offering money for them to let her in. Fortunately, Alanna spotted Lucy at the desk and after seeing her desperate expression she decided to go over and see what was happening.

'Is everything all right?' She asked both the receptionist and Lucy.

'She's not letting me see y/n/n' Lucy snapped shooting the desk lady a dirty glare.

'I need proof, I can't just let anyone in.' She says matter-of-factly causing Lucy to roll her eyes. Alanna ignores the lady giving Lucy all her attention.

'I thought she was going out to see you?' Alanna asked confused 'That's what Kyra told everyone.'

'She was meant to, but she didn't show up and hasn't been answering my calls, I need to know if she's ok.' Lucy's forehead creased with worry, her girlfriend was never late and always picked up the phone.

'I'm sure she'll be fine, I'll take you to go and check her room and see if she's there.' Alanna tells the brunette before turning around having a quick word with the receptionist who mumbles something under her breath before turning to Lucy and allowing her to go up, apologising for the trouble.

Her words aren't heard by the English footballer who is already speed-walking up the hallway despite having no clue where she is going. Alanna jogs lightly to catch up to her grabbing her wrist to stop her from walking. At first, Lucy tries to pull her wrist away but stops when Alanna drops it.

'Her rooms the other way.' Alanna says softly, causing Lucy to turn around and start power walking in the opposite direction. Alanna laughs lightly at her. 'Slow down, you're just going to get lost. I'll take you to her.'

You're curled up under the blankets in your bed. You'd been lying there for almost an hour. Your phone was on silent so you hadn't seen all the missed calls from Lucy, you felt guilty for not showing up but surely she wouldn't care too much. No one in their right mind would want to be seen with a mess like you, especially not the Lucy Bronze.

You lay in silence for a while longer, nobody disrupting you as the do not disturb sign was up and all the girls were out for the off day. You were almost too caught up in your thoughts to hear the knocking on the door and Alanna's voice calling out your name.

'Y/N, are you in there?' She asked again 'Y/N?' You groaned pulling the blankets up so they were almost covering your head.

'Go away Lani.' You mumble only just loud enough for her to hear. You are shocked when she agrees and you hear her footsteps getting further away.

You roll further into your bed, groaning when you hear another knock on the door. 'Baby, are you alright?' Your girlfriend asks, your stomach flips with guilt.

'I don't want to talk right now Luce.' You tell her even though you know that's not going to stop her from coming to see you.

'I need to know that my girlfriends ok.' She tells you and you hear the doorknob twist, the bright light that fills your room makes your head pound and you bury your face into the pillow.

When Lucy sees you lying in the darkness she immediately rushes to your side and places a hand on your forehead, probably checking to see if you had a temperature.

'What's wrong my love?' She asks sitting next to you on the bed and stroking your back. 'Are you sick? Do you need me to get anything for you?' The brunette asks the worry evident in her tone. You turn around to face her, only seeing her concerned face makes you burst out crying.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you poured your heart out to your girlfriend, the weight of disappointment and guilt heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't not tell her about what was going on.

The two of you told each other everything.

In the quiet of the hotel room, you confessed her insecurities, voice choking with emotion. 'I'm a failure,' you whispered, hands trembling as you recounted the mistakes that haunted you from the semi-finals and all the awful messages you'd received after the game. With each word, Lucy listened intently, offering comforting words of reassurance. 'You're not a failure,' she whispered back, gently wiping away your tears. 'You're brave for putting yourself out there, for giving it your all. Football doesn't define you; your resilience does. You are the best player I know, you didn't win Player of the Year for nothing. All the girls were talking about how well you played last night, just because the result didn't go your way it doesn't mean you're a failure.' She places light kisses over your face 'The people hating are all just dickheads, I can't imagine them doing even half of what you've achieved. Don't let them get to you.' She tells you, midway through your conversation she had laid down beside you, wrapping you in her arms. You had your head lying on her chest, the beat of her heart helping calm you down.

You don't know how you got a girlfriend like Lucy. But you were undeniably grateful for her no matter what. She'd been there for you through the worst and best parts of your life.

'I'm sorry Lucy.' You whisper to her.

'Don't be sorry.' She tells you placing a light kiss on your forehead 'You've done nothing wrong.'

'You're meant to be enjoying making it to the final, but instead you're stuck looking after me.'

'Yeah, but being stuck with my favorite person in the world is my kind of heaven.' She tells you softly causing a small smile to break out on your face 'I love you y/n/n.'

'Love you more.' You say back to her.

'That's impossible baby.' A small smirk appears on her face 'I'll always love you the most.'

[spirkbitch]

what kind of life was Gillian Taylor leading that she didn’t even need to consider it a little bit before just hopping on the spaceship to go to the future with her whales?

[bloodywankers]

tw. yandere, forced pregnancy, mentions of nudity, toxic relationships, implied murder, not proofread (pls tell me if you see any typos), 1.4k words

You knew your husband wasn’t normal. You weren’t a fool, the avoiding gazes of people around you, the nervous stutter of every waiter and service person that approached you, the hesitance of new aquintaces when they had to shake hands with you, all of it under his watchful gaze. It was hard to ignore.

If you had to put a finger on when it started, you’d blame that one time years ago, when you were both still young, much younger than you are now at least. When you complained about that one classmate that always got too handsy, about his annoying jokes and obnoxious personality, all under the guise of “a joke” as tasteless as it might have been. You knew he wasn’t fully okay in the head, even back then. It was by no mistake that you found yourself complaining to him of all people, sure he was a bit more reserved than now, a bit more hesitant at the thought of potentially committing a crime but all it took was a fluttering your eyes at him a few times and he offered himself up for you, he had never been the smartest of the buch after all.

When you heard news that the classmate had apparently dropped out and been seen with injuries beyond what any sane person would inflict, you knew who to blame. But you wouldn’t, maybe your underdeveloped prefrontal lobe couldn’t grasp the concept morality back then. But a guard dog that shows such loyalty couldn’t possibly deserve punishment. It was then when you cemented future by his side. He wasn’t all too bad, you thought, if you could avoid any and all contact with the opposite gender, even with women you could never make him feel unwanted. He was needy and big and scary but extremely gullible, at least when it came to you– as long as nothing sparked his jealousy, he was beyond reasoning if that were to happen.

There were times where you cursed at yourself for your past decisions, namely when you found small splatters of blood on his clothes that you assume were too small for him to notice, or when another person you had been unhappy with (but never voiced this in front of your husband) disappeared entiorely from your life. A dog that goes and bites all those that approach its master is no good at all.

Selfish and evil as you may have been, you were still human and the thought that your mere presence could ruin someones life took a toll on you so you started to retreat into your shell, to avoid going out as much as possible, much to your husbands pleasure who started coming home on time and didn’t drift off somewhere in the middle of the might anymore. Your relationship almost started showing a semblance of normalcy.

You had started feeling exhausted as of late, too tired despite your schedule full of nothing. It was strange, you started losing appetite and under a constant spell of lethargy, too tired to do anything beyond maybe brave the journey to the bathroom when necessary or to the kitchen if your husband wasn’t home to do it for you. Then started the cravings, so strange that you doubted even a pregnant woman would have them.

That’s what you thought, until night you managed to wake up just in time to see your husband rummahging through your drawer, the small sheet of what you could only make out to be your contraceptive pills in you hand and another one that looked eerily similar (that one wasn’t yours, you were sure of this since you were down to your last sheet).

You instinctively closed your eyes again before he could turn to you, waiting until morning when he was gone to work to check your drawing, only to find one sheet. It was then when things started to click, your period had been a few weeks late, you hadn’t been particularly alarmed since it happened sometimes but now you felt fear sink in as you rushed out in your car to the nearest pharmacy. The drive felt eons long when combined with the ever increasing feelings of dread that you were experiencing but you almost wished you could go back to that time as your clothes were tossed to one side and the bathroom door left slightly ajar, you were too rushed to have cared about those details as you stared at the two lines on the test.

‘No no no no no no no no no.’ You couldn’t think clear, you werent ready to be a mother, you didnt want children, there wasn’t a single motherly bone in your body.

You took back what you had said earlier, you were most definitely a fool. Why did you think he’d never do something like this when hes probably already done enough to secure his place in the 8th circle of hell just for you.

“Darling, I was looking for you-” Your husband said gleefully, pausing as he fully opened the bathroom door, finding you sat with a pregnancy test in hand, a few other ones already tossed around you, the unmistakeable positive already visible on them. And yet, as if he had no hand in this, he feiged ignorance, acted worried as he approached you.

“What’s happened here, what’re you doing, dear? Are you alright?” He kept asking these questions as he slowly neared you.

“Get away from me, don’t touch me!” You screamed, you were crying at this point and he was left at an arms length. That was when his entire demeanor changed, the almost idiotic smile of his nowhere to be seen as he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. If anything I’m surprised it took you this long, you’re quite the slow one aren’t you, love?” You probably would’ve launched the nearest object his way in any other situation but you couldn’t tell heads from tails in your current predicament.

“Why would you do this? Was what we had not enough for you?” You couldn’t help but ask in a moment of clarity.

“How coy, I wonder where this side of you was when you asked me to do all those terrible, terrible things.” His smile felt cruel, especially so when you realised that you were the dog if anything, he had always been the one to hold your leash, not the other way around.

“You dug your own grave, we couldn’ve had what most normal people have but you chose not to, you used me until your heart was fulfilled and in the process, you dug yourself deeper and deeper. The fact that you didn’t realise any sooner says more about you than me.” He finished, before hoisting you up, ignoring your cries as he removed what little you had on and placed you inside the bath. It had become a routine ever since you started feeling sick but today you couldn’t help but feel disgusted by his touch, alternating between sobs and protests as he cleaned, his grasp much harsher than usual, you weren’t sure if it was because he no longer had to uphold the persona he had you believing in up until today or because of your protests.

“Aren’t you curious, what you’ve been eating in place of your birth control lately?” He asked in the midst of washing your hair, the glint of excitement in his eyes only adding to the psychotic expression of his.

You couldn’t bear to ask, looking away in hoped that he would at least grant you this much. “Aww, I was hoping you’d want to, I’ll tell you ayway. It’s a sedative of sorts, I started with low dosages so you wouldn’t get alarmed. Don’t worry, it’s nothing strong enough to harm the baby.” The mention of the baby had your stomach twisting again. You felt exhausted from crying, letting him dress you, moving you around almost like a ragdoll until he plopped you on the bed, joining you soon after he showered and changed himself. Engulfing your smaller figure into a hug as he went on and on about the baby.

“I’ll get some books on parenting for you, we need to make sure our baby doesn’t turn out twisted and skewed like their mommy. Don’t you agree?”

[erindrinkstea]

🔴 Please Please Please

Poly! Dark! 141 x Reader

TW: Dark Themes, Spicy Themes, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Non-Con, Violence, Blood, Death.

Description, Part 1, Part 2

Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

You would think that a bunch of grown men in the military would be mature. Said military men from the 141 task force nonetheless.

But no- these soldiers were just as petty as any motherfucker, if not even more.

It was clear to anybody that you weren't welcome in the task force despite being their lieutenant as well, much like Ghost. Well, unlike Ghost, they didn't respect you at all.

It could be felt from how Price refused to touch you at all- always patting the others but made sure to keep the contact with you minimum.

It could be heard from how formal Soap talked with you despite being so comedic and casual with the others, his warm tone quickly turning cold as soon as a conversation tried to be initiated.

It could be seen with how Gaz was so affectionate and comfortable with others but turns stiff and awkward as soon as you walk into the room.

Now, Ghost... He showed his dislike for you through everything. You could see it, hear it, feel it and fucking sense it. His stern glare, his strict tone, his rough hold and how oppressive he feels near you.

His chocolate eyes which you first admired melted into fear as they resembled more like the dirt he would bury you 6ft deep in.

The 141 hated you.

It was crystal fucking clear.

You don't blame their hatred. You understood why they hated you, but you do blame their pettiness.

The way you joined was different from others. Price didn't choose you, you were assigned to the 141 by Laswell.

She said that your talents were essential to the 141 and could be put to good use. I mean, you did almost unalive Soap as proof to your skills.

You were the lieutenant of another task force to start it off. The 141's mission clashed with your team's mission which led to certain misunderstandings.

It was too late when the misunderstanding was cleared- you had already landed a shot through Soap's throat and poor lad was choking on his own blood.

If it weren't for your team's combat medic, the sargeant would have died of suffocation from a shot to the throat.

A couple months passed since that mission and sad to say, your team didn't last. Unrelated to the 141, due to a mission gone bad- your captain as well as one of your sargeants died. The team was unable to perform due to the loss and caused your other lieutenant and two sargeants to retire.

You, on the other hand, wanted to resume your duties as lieutenant despite the loss. You wanted to push forward- not because you were strong. But to punish yourself for their deaths.

You would be a waste to assign to any other team that wouldn't allow you to showcase your skills and talents. This caused Laswell to make the decision to assign you to the 141. Even if they complained.

Now, you understood why the 141 was so against your addition to the team. You didn't exactly have the best history together. But you tried to make it up for your mistakes. You really tried to mend things, find common ground, initiatiate a truce for almost a fucking year.

You felt desperate, pathetic almost.

"That would be all. You're excused, Lieutenant." Price waved you off from his office, you sighed as you shut the door behind you.

You made your way to the kitchen- hoping that at least, they took a bite of your efforts.

You stopped in your steps, a few feet from the kitchen counter, you stared at the unmoved and probably cold by now food left there.

They didn't touch it at all.

You felt frustrated. "Seriously?"

You went closer to the plates left alone by your team. Not a single thing was touched.

You really put your effort on this one. You took note of their favorite food even! You made them after a really tiring mission, you knew that the team would probably be starving.

You even heard Soap complaining about how his stomach was killing him.

"I fucking give up." You mumbled, angry and exhausted. One year and three months was enough.

"If they're gonna be petty then fucking fine. But my patience isn't forever and I'm done." You rambled on to yourself. You took the plates and dumped the food into seperate plastic containers.

You weren't a waste. You'd probably give the food to Riley, save the other containers for the following days. The K9 at least had more manners than the rest of the humans in this compound.

"I'm done trying to be the bigger person." You angrily muttered as you crouched down to place the container in front of the dog.

Riley tilted his head at you. Curious at your rambling and sensing your irritation.

One last mission. You promised.

Just one last mission with the 141 and you would demand a transfer from Laswell. If that won't be allowed- all might as well go to hell and you'd join Kortac.

Roze always tried to persuade you to join and Konig wasn't afraid to joke of your addition to the team. You were pretty sure it wasn't a joke as Horangi handed you official documents of transfer.

You gave Riley one last pat before heading back to your personal room. Being in the 141 had it's benefits at least with the special treatment.

It was nice to have your own room to yourself. You'd die of tension if you'd share a room with the rest of the team.

You passed Gaz in the halls, he stiffened at the sight of you and you internally rolled your eyes at that. You ignored him and headed straight to your room.

Gaz almost stuttered in his steps when you passed by him, not even sparing a single glance at him.

He looked back at you as you entered your room and shut the door. It was weird not being greeted by you for once. He brushed the encounter off nonetheless.

You just didn't notice him, he guesses.

But that didn't sit well in his gut either.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Thunder Thighs — Kimi Raikkonen x reader

Fluff

Word count 607

Slightly suggestive

A/n — ok I kept this pretty vague this is mostly for my Plus size/Mid size and my girlies who have thick thighs. This is also WOC friendly.

If there was one thing you could change about yourself, it would be your thighs. Dealing with thick thighs, or 'thunder thighs' as you sometimes called them, was tough. The constant chafing and the wear and tear on every pair of pants you owned made you dislike them. It was a constant struggle and you hated dealing with it.

Kimi on the other hand loved your thighs. He loved everything about them, your thighs were his favorite part of your body he was obsessed with them. He loved it when the two of you lay on the couch together with Kimi lying on his side between them. He loved how warm and soft they were and how easy it was to fall asleep. Kimi loved cuddling up with you, surrounded by the comfort and warmth of your thighs. It was his favorite place to be, and he would often find himself resting against them, his head comfortably nestled between them.

Kimi was almost entranced by your thighs. Whenever he saw them, he couldn't help but notice them. They were plump, smooth, supple; everything he could ever desire. He loved the way they felt against his body, the way they felt against his bare skin. He would often find himself staring at them when you were dressed or in your underwear. He wanted nothing more than to be in between them, to feel their warm embrace. One day, as the two of you were sitting on the couch together, he felt particularly drawn to them. Without even thinking, he slowly reached out and placed his hands on your thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Mmm, and I love your thighs," he murmured in his thick Finnish accent. You couldn't help but notice the way his hands slid over your thighs, his large fingers tracing your skin. His touch sent shivers down your spine.

"You like them that much?" you asked, your voice a little breathless. "Mmm," Kimi hummed in agreement, his hands still exploring the curves of your thighs. "You have no idea. They're perfect."

He began to slowly massage your thighs, his strong hands kneading the flesh. You gasped softly, unable to resist the pleasure of his touch. His fingers were strong and sure, rubbing and squeezing in all the right places. It was all you could do to remain sitting still.

"They're just thighs," you protested weakly, feeling your face heat up under his intense gaze. "No, they're not just thighs. They're your thighs," Kimi corrected you, his voice dropping even lower. "And they're perfect."

His hands continued to work magic on your thighs, his fingers leaving a trail of fire everywhere they went. He gently pushed your legs open wider to give himself more access. You couldn't keep the soft moan that escaped from your lips. His touch was driving you crazy, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You could feel your heart racing, your breath quickening.

"Kimi..." you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. Kimi chuckled softly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. "Shhh, I know," he murmured, his hands moving lower, skimming over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I could spend hours between your thighs, just like this," he whispered, his fingers gently tracing tiny circles on your skin.

“You're obsessed you know that?” You ask. Kimi chuckled again, his hands not stopping their exploration of your thighs.

"I know. But can you blame me? Look at these." He gave a firm squeeze of your outer thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"They're perfect.Absolutely Perfect."

Tagged — @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @anedpev @67-angelofthelordme-67 @alwayzbeenale @biancathecool @bblouifford @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life @badassturtle13 @charlesf1leclerc @clowngirlsstuff @crashingwavesofeuphoria @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @entr4p3 @formulas-bitch @formulaal @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @ironcowboycopnickel @jvpiterzs @jeffs77 @kimiracing07 @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @mrs-liebgott @danielshouseofwhores @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @starkwlkr @sweate-r-weathe-r @swifth0lic @strugglingyetvibing @tallrock35 @the-ghost-lovwr @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @vivwritesfics

[crownmemes]

Caring & Reassuring Sentences, Vol. 5

(Sentences from various sources for muses that care for each other. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"There's no point in fighting battles you can't win."

"Maybe you should tell me what's bothering you?"

"Relax. You can't see everything coming."

"Not every choice will be like this one."

"Are you really okay?"

"I've always thought of you as one of the good ones."

"It's okay to get angry once in a while."

"You look like you could use some company?"

"I don't tell you stuff because you don't want to know, but I'm there for you. I have always been there for you."

"I'm going to fix you."

"Guilt does a lot of damage."

"I miss her too, you know."

"You can't save everyone."

"Relax. This is a matter of inconvenient timing, that's all."

"I think you have been afraid all your life."

"I know you're screwed up - I know you are always gonna be screwed up - but you're the most incredible man I've ever known."

"Do you need a hug?"

"You don't have to check to see if I'm judging you. I'm not."

"People make a lot of bad choices when they're confused."

"You're too hard on yourself. You always have been."

"You must not blame yourself for anything that happened in this house."

"I mean, everybody panics. Everybody. Things get tense, you panic. It's human nature."

"You don't need to fake anything. You're better than that."

"Have you any idea how much I've missed you?"

"I could help. Whatever this is, it's eating away at you. We could get past it together."

"This must be a lot for you to process."

"We all make mistakes, and we all pay a price."

"You're a good man. Anybody can see that."

"Sometimes things go wrong, no matter what we promise. There are things in this world that we can't control, but we do our best, hm?"

"How are you really in the grand scheme of things?"

"Look, everybody knows there's something wrong with them. They just don't know what it is."

"Will you hold me? Just for a moment."

"Life never turns out the way you think it will."

"We all want to be saved. Sometimes, it's just from ourselves."

"I know you better than you know yourself."

"All change is bad? It's not true, you know."

"You’re not in any trouble. There is nothing to fear."

"If you don't want to talk about it, why don't you write about it instead?"

"I always understood, you know, and I have forgiven you. You just need to forgive yourself."

"If emotions made you act rationally, then they wouldn’t be called emotions, would they?"

"Why do you think that people would treat you worse if they knew the truth?"

[tvmkavlitzbby]

"All for me"

TW: nsfw, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, switch reader, switch Bill p in v, unprotected sex, blowjob, rough sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, hickeys, alcohol, aftercare, reader is in the band

Word count: 1.4k

synopsis: You and Bill had always been best friends, the fear of ruining your relationship always making you deny your feelings for each other, but seeing him dance with a girl at a party made you want to get him jealous.

You and Bill had been best friends since forever, you two meet at kindergarten and since then you've been inseparable.

You were there every time he argued with his brother, You were there when he participated in the music show and comforted him when he didn't win, you were there when he asked you to join "Black Question Mark", which then became "Devilish" to finally become "Tokio Hotel", he was firm on his decision, telling you how important you were in the band and how it wasn’t complete without your singing.

You two had always been a crucial part of each other's life, and you couldn't imagine being apart.

And maybe that's what caused you two to completely shut down every little romantic feeling you had for the other, afraid it would put at risk your relationship.

Tonight you had a big party after the concert, it was the last date of your tour and a lot of people were invited, mostly friends and some lucky fans, the place was surely overcrowded with drunk people who danced all over each other, and it wasn't any different for you, you didn't even remember how many drinks you had, and you were just happily dancing with Georg until your eyes laid on Bill, who was now dancing with a girl who was throwing herself all over him.

As much as you wanted to shake away the feeling, you couldn't help but feel a wave of anger and jealousy wash all over you as you saw his hands on her hips.

"Georg, come here!" you shouted over the music, pulling the boy close to you, putting your hands on his chest and continuing dancing, ignoring his confused look that then became a playful one as he noticed who you were looking at.

"Trying to get him jealous y/n?" he asked, pointing to Bill.

"No! Why would I?" you asked with a bit of uncertainty, not resisting the urge to look at Bill, who was now looking at you two.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever you say" Georg responded while he kept dancing with you.

Just some seconds had passed until you felt someone grab you by your shoulder and pulling you away, recognizing Bill.

"Y/n we have to go, someone wants to… uhm... talk to us… yeah" 

I ignored the way Georg lifted his eyebrow, nodding at Bill.

"Guess you have to go then, have fun and use protection" Georg screamed, to which I responded with a middle finger while being dragged away by my wrist by Bill.

"Bill, where are we going? Who wants to talk to-"

You stopped talking as you felt lips on yours as soon as you two got out from the building, widening your eyes as you realized that Bill was kissing you.

You couldn't really process what was happening, but you felt the need to kiss him too, so after the initial shock, you started to kiss him, convincing yourself to blame it on the alcohol.

The kiss soon became heated, Bill placed his hands on your waist, and you put yours between his spiky hair, while your tongues danced together.

When Bill detached from the kiss, he started to kiss your neck slowly, pressing his body against yours.

"Fuck… y/n..." he whispered

"Bill, we're in public..." you whispered, head thrown to the side to let him kiss you.

You heard him sigh and grab your wrist again, dragging you to his car.

Once you two were in he reclined the passenger seat, positioning himself in it and patted his thigh gently.

As soon as you climbed on top of him, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing it and biting it, leaving marks behind.

It was a strange sensation being on his lap like this, you've always been best friends, and you never thought something like this would happen, but now the desire was too strong to stop.

"You were trying to make me jealous with Georg, uh?" he whispered in your ear.

What a nerve you thought.

"Me? You had that girl all over you" you then a hand through his hair, tugging them a bit to make him look at you.

You kissed him passionately, your intentions to keep your relationship as friends long forgotten, because deep down you knew that that's what you always wanted, to know what his lips felt like, to have him all for yourself.

You felt his hand travel to your back, unzipping your dress, that he impatiently slipped down and removed completely, leaving you in only your underwear.

"Look at you... not even wearing a bra" he whispered, lips pressing on your left breast while he cupped the right one with his hand, massaging it slightly.

You soon grew tired of the teasing, needing more from him, so you slipped from his grasp, crawling in the space in front of the seat, between his legs, and started to undo his belt.

Once the pants and the boxer were off, you grabbed his cock with your hand to then give kitten lips to the tip, watching how Bill closed his eyes to savor the moment.

"Look at me, bill" you said firmly, waiting for him to open his eyes to continue.

Once he did, you took his length in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head on it, helping yourself with your hand to the part you couldn't reach and tracing the veins with your tongue, never breaking eye contact.

"Fuck..." he moaned slightly, his whispers making you fasten your pace.

"I want to fuck you, y/n, right now... please..." he whispered, almost as a plea, how could you not give it to him when he sounded so damn desperate?

He took off his shirt, and you positioned yourself back on his lap, after taking off your panties, you then positioned his cock to your entrance and slowly lowered yourself on it, both of you moaning loudly.

"Fuck Billy, you're so big..." you leaned closer to his ear, biting it slightly while you started to move on top of him.

You began to ride him slowly to tease him, ignoring his pleas to go faster, to give him more.

The last thing you expected was for Bill to grab your hips firmly, and starting to pound in you fiercely, making you grip his shoulders for support.

"I'm tired of your teasing" he said with his teeth closed, listening to you moaning his name.

"Bill, fuck... right there!" you almost screamed as he hit your cervix, your nails scratching his back.

You didn't know if someone could see you, but you didn't care, too lost in the feeling, too lost in his touch.

You felt your orgasm close, clenching around him, which made him moan and place a finger on your clit, massaging it.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby? Cum on your best friends' dick?" he continued to push in you, without slowing the pace, you nodded and managed to talk between your moans.

"Yes, yes I'm going to cum on your-oh fuck" but you couldn't finish the phrase because a wave of pleasure washed all over your body, making you cum and tremble.

It wasn’t long before Bill also came in you with a long moan, while you tried to come back from your orgasm.

"Y/n, are you ok?" you heard, his hand brushing your hair out of your face softly, as you nodded tiredly.

"Yes... fuck Billy..." you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close to you and placing your head on his shoulder.

"That was... amazing" he replied, leaving a sweet kiss on your head.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

You just nodded at his question and let him help you to clean up and dress back up, just enough to get home.

Once you were home, he brought you inside and you two decided to take a bath together.

"Wait here, I'll get everything ready" after that he disappeared in the bathroom, returning a while later, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom in which you stripped and got in the bathtub with him, placing yourself between his legs, chest to back.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you enjoyed the warm water and each other touch.

It was interrupted a while later, when Bill whispered in your ear.

"Be mine y/n, please" you couldn't help but smile, turning to face him and placing your hands on his cheeks.

"I'm already yours Bill, I've always had"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Leader of the Pack 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: it’s hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar. 

"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it." 

"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink." 

"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.  

The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other. 

You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes. 

"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks. 

"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..." 

You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks. 

"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser." 

"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?" 

You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun. 

"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts. 

You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss. 

"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim. 

"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?" 

"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other. 

The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table. 

"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?" 

"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot. 

"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?" 

"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug. 

She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.  

"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..." 

You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms. 

They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together. 

The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears. 

"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn." 

She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap." 

"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..." 

"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up." 

He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick. 

"Thank you," you squeak. 

Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip. 

Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you. 

You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back. 

"You wanna break?" You ask. 

"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table. 

You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference. 

She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks. 

You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper. 

She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind. 

She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes... 

She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement. 

You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.  

"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?" 

"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?" 

You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either. 

"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?" 

"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--" 

"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies." 

"Martyna," your friend rolls out. 

You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you. 

"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?" 

"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room. 

"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures. 

"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.  

You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin. 

"I'll break," Sy insists. 

"Of course, loser's first," James quips. 

He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus. 

Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you. 

“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.” 

You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual. 

That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it. 

You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole. 

It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating. 

“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.” 

He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner. 

Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends. 

“You’ve got another go,” James says. 

You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away. 

Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense. 

You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.

This can’t be real.