#but never got round to it well WAIT NO LONGER @ me for me here it is

[nosfelixculpa]

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON (2010) HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON: THE HIDDEN WORLD (2019)

[screampied]

getting edged by jjk men. thats it thats the request.

❛ BUT THAT D!CK WAS A 10/10! ❜ ⠀

༊࿐۫ ᩿ㅤㅤㅤ feat. nanami, gojo, toji, geto, choso

warnings. fem! reader, overstim/edging, praise kink, heavy dirty talk, implied multiple rounds, őrgasm denial, squirt kink, unprotected sex, size difference, cunnilingus, cockdrunk, mdni.

an. well yes.

⟢ SUGURU GETO.

“…sugu,” you’d whine, shifting your hips back and forth against his face. he’d be laid underneath you, two rough hands of his gripped onto the very back parts of your ass. his tongue gingerly swipes against your folds, a long trail of your slick covering his entire chin. he looked so pretty, eyes half lidded with a smug grin pulling against his lips. he noticed based from your hips—you could just about feel the tenseness of your legs just about giving out. “really gonna c-cum again, suguru.”

“but princess,” he whispers against your cunt, you shudder from the warmth of his breath wafting against your entrance. he had a few strands of hair that ran down the sides of his face, sliding a finger between your folds before planting a went kiss near your pulsating nub. “i know, i know. but ‘m still hungry. wait a liiiiittle longer, just a little.”

your legs quavered, the brief sting of overstim makes you moan — a soft whine gets snatched from your throat at the prick of geto’s nose rubbing all over your pussy. the very tip of his nose was sheeny, forever glossed with your sweetened slick. his tongue was entirely skilled, lapping over your cunt. he even gathers a wad of spit just to give your pussy an excuse to make it more shiny for him. “can never—get enough of how sweet you taste for me, fuckk.”

you’d be practically riding his face, rutting your hips against him and he’s got such a sleazy grin. geto’s got your panties lazily moved to the side, his tongue constantly breaks away, intentionally giving the crevices of your thighs soft sucks.

his lips brushed against your skin, making you quicken your hips against his mouth.

“s-suguruuuu,” you mewled, and moments later whilst his tongue drags back and forth against your clit—focusing directly on you slick folds, he starts reciting the alphabet with his tongue. “fuck, f-fuckkk. ‘m gonna cum.”

“look at me,” he purrs, bringing a thumb towards the inner part of your clit. he slowly slides his tongue up, meanwhile you watch the entire time. your breath gets caught in your throat, hands grabbing onto his hair before he flashes a smile.

“thaaaat’s it, eyes down here,” and his voice went low, such softness to it — but a faint rasp could be heard from behind it. he made you throb, solely from his words, the warmness of his breath that wafted right against your sensitive entrance had your knees buckling.

trapped in your own lewd thoughts, you felt your entire body heat up, the feeling of coming to a halt, being edged. your lip trembled, various sweetened whines escaping before you moan at his next words.

“you wanna cum, don’t you—?”

“y-yes,” you huffed, your chest heaved and it feels so good, you’re right there. geto slides his tongue between your slit, and he gives it a long suck to make you hold make a moan. he was so sloppy, his entire chin was smothered with your sheeny slick. yet he never minded, he’d happily kiss you afterwards to clean it off. “please, please.”

“please…what, princess,” he raises a brow, and you whimper once his tongue softly glides against your clitoral hood. he was so tender — he knew the exact spots to lick, to suck. “i taught you how to speak to me. so use those words. don’t be shy.”

your glossed lips form into a cute saddened pout. geto circles his tongue alongside your folds before you give in and whine in a needy, “suguru, please. pretty please—pretty please… can i cum now. i deserve to c-cum.”

“oh…you deserve?” he teases.

“i—i think i deserve it,” you correct yourself, entirely nothing but a whiney mess. “just wanna cum, suguru…please.”

“good girl,” he hushes, and you shudder once he starts to rub and caress circles on your swollen clit. you felt thousands of nerves pulse all throughout your body, you moaned once he tells you the go ahead.

after what seemed like forever… you finally came. your legs shook vigorously as you rode against his face. your moans grew high, and you’re speechless — a tiny squeak leaves your mouth as he’s still got a firm grip on your hips. “now that wasn’t so bad, mhm…? pft. my drama queen.”

⟢ NANAMI KENTO.

mid-thrust, nanami’s panting, bulky toned strong arms held near the sides of you. you’re stuffed full of his cock and your legs just dangle with him having you in a sweet mating press. “k-kento,” you’d moan, feeling his hips sharply smack against you each time.

you felt forevermore warm.

the more you stared at nanami, the more you felt yourself throb. he was glistening with sweat, blond hair of his was slightly ruffled because of his repetitive moments. needless to say—it was effortlessly attractive.

his rhythm, his pace…

it was so perfect. a sweet mixture of rough and tenderness. his cock, it was so hefty. the was his girth stretched and stretched—it left your maw hanging open to where he had to kiss your candied whines always.

“i know. my baby’s getting close, huh?” he whispers between kisses, and his soft lips press all over your face. a plethora of kisses.

nanami’s so gentle with you, peppering your chin, your nose, your lips…

he even playfully runs his tongue against the corner part of your mouth, soft pants of his own collide against your skin before he lets off a grunt. “god, i’m close too,” and he swallow thickly — he notices you’re starting to cover your hands from embarrassment so he grabs them with a joshing grin. “oh, my love don’t do that. i wanna see those eyes, good girl just look at me. look at your husband makin’ you feel good.”

your head was rested against a soft padded pillow, as he’s drilling into you—you grab onto his hand, and he ‘awwws’ before intertwining his fingers. “kento…c-cum.”

he found it cute how you could barely properly make out any words—you were being filled with thick inches of his cock. nanami’s pace couldn’t be more perfect. his angle he had on you, a free hand of his presses down lightly on your tummy. you moaned, feeling the cold band of his wedding ring skim against your belly, tracing all over your soft skin.

“patience… wait for me, sweetheart,” he’d hoarse, and oh how hes just mindlessly buried to the hilt.

you’re dizzy. you can feel him reach so deep, he’s feeling you clench around him and it makes his jaw tighten. “hey,” he murmurs, gingerly swiping his thumbs on your cheeks. the moment he brings his hands up towards your face. nanami cups yours face before leaning in to give your nose a kiss. “wait a little, can you do that?”

“okay,” you pant, feeling such heat ignite in you. just as you were about to come undone, you stop yourself—a soft pout forming against your lips, gnawing on your lip. “sensitive, kento. f-fuckkk.”

“such a colorful mouth for a pretty girl,” he tsks, and he’s starting to slowly grind his hips. your nails claw into his back. his back muscles sexily tense up, and your head goes way back. “should teach you some more manners, sweetheart.”

“s-sorry.” you whined, watching the corners of his lips tug into a simper.

nanami hums, “don’t be sorry,” and then as he speaks — his voice grows a rich pitched low. it makes you pulse, the bass in it never failed to make your entire body heat up. “truth be told, hearing you with such a filthy little mouth turns me on,” and he watches as your eyes briefly light up. your back starts to arch, you’re writhing in pleasure before he places a hand on your hip. “go ahead ‘n cum, princess. i don’t wanna be mean ‘n make you wait too long,” and then a soft chuckle departs from his lips, bringing your hand towards his mouth to kiss it tenderly. “would never want my gorgeous wife to get mad at me.”

once you came, shockwaves coursed all throughout your body. in response, you shuddered beneath nanami — and shortly afterwards, he came too. although, he pulls out just in time to pain a thin rope of his cum all over your tummy. he notices the saddened frown on your face, and he chuckles before sneaking a kiss on your lips. “don’t be so disappointed. i can always,” he huffs, out of breath, “…can always give you a baby later, my love. how’s that sound?”

⟢ GOJO SATORU

he loves edging you.

it’s his favorite thing in the world. gojo’s always been fond of a little humility with you—you’d be propped up against his back, basically cockwarming him. before, you were riding him in reverse but he grabs onto your hips and tells you to wait.

you start to babble and whine, because you were just about to come to a sweet powerful release.

“give me a sec, angel,” is all he says, and you’re taken by surprise once he brings a hand to reach down between your legs. he pries them open, and as you lie your head back against his chest—you start to feel his fingers ghost against your pussy. a gasp gets elicited from your throat, and a playful chuckle leaves from gojo.

“ooh. you’re so wet down here,” and he’s still buried deep deep inside you. he gracefully maneuvers circles with the tips of his fingers against your entrance, and you hear the squelches of excitement your cunt made. “fuck. so nasty. just listen to how she speaks to us, baby.”

as your body was pressed right up against his bare chest. you softly let off a whine, feeling the hardness of his flexed pecs and abs rub against your skin.

his warmth…

you could smell gojo despite facing the opposite way, just leaning back against him. he was always so good with his fingers, the thrill of your sudden orgasm coming to an abrupt stop. you whined, feeling your thighs continuously clench together.

“sato—ruuu,” you spoke in broken dialogue, and by this point you’re just trying to create some sort of movement. he leans in, kissing against your neck at your cute attempt to start up your hips again. yet — he’s still got a hand holding your left hip down, he’s whispering in your ear, another hand occupied between your legs. “i- i wanna cum, ‘m so close.”

“don’t care what you want,” he sings in a melodic tune, his teeth softly press into the inner part of your neck and you moan. it’s not too hard, but it’s just enough to earn a whine out of you. you felt your head spinning, the stimulation was almost too much to bare. you already felt a viscous mess start to slick between your legs. “besides, when you whine my name like that it’s so cute. say it again for me.”

whilst he was deeply buried inside your pussy, your eyes became half-lidded…having a useless chase with your breath, panting and panting.

his fingers felt so good, all he had to do was ghost the tips of them against your folds and you’re feeling yourself start to twitch profusely now.

“satoru, ‘toruuu,” you gasped, a sudden pulse and not even a moment later—you gush. “oh my god,” you breathed, immediately knowing you were soaked. it was an intense feeling, your teeth shattered and your breathing become more and more erratic.

“woaaah. did you just…squirt on me?” gojo snickers, after a long expanded pause. he takes absolutely nothing serious.

you could hear the smirk, envisioning it stretch across his face before he bounces his thigh purposely. his dick still inside—it’s just going in and out, you moan once you start to gradually move a bit before you nod against his chest. “well fuck, that…was kinda hot. just couldn’t hold it, couldn’t you?”

you let off a sweet moan as response and gojo hums, trailing a free hand down your waist. he pulls you closer towards him, and your legs were just dumbly sprawled open still.

you had no words, shock overtook you before you grab onto his wrist. he raises his brows before you drag his hand towards your slick entrance, whining out a pathetic. “can…can you do that one more time, ‘toru?”

“sure,” he replied cheekily, thinking you’d never ask. although—you don’t expect gojo to lightly remove you from his lap, only to make you lie flat on your back. you’re panting, staring at him with a look of straight puzzlement before he cheeses. “whaaaat? don’t gimme that look. i told you, whenever my girl makes a mess, i gotta clean it,” and with a quickness, he spreads your legs again. “so, just let me do that with my tongue, baby.”

⟢ CHOSO KAMO

poor choso. once he edges you, he ends up edging himself by accident.

twice the pleasure though—you’re the one to ask him to edge you. he’s got the cutest dumbfounded expression, tilting his head before murmuring with a shy stutter of, “…edging? you want me to—what’s edging?”

albeit, the second he experiences it, he doesn’t want to stop. hours had probably passed, and he’s panting, sweaty and all. choso’s staring deeply into your eyes as you’re riding him. he can’t stop the slutty whines that leave his mouth, strands of his own hair irritated him from the way it brushed against his forehead.

“f-fuckk, your hips..” he’d hiccup, and he bites down on his lip — choso whines, feeling the ridges of his cock hit and meet every edge. your gummy walls were clinging onto him with such force that it’s sloppy. it makes his head spin, and he just couldn’t shut up.

not that you ever cared, choso’s voice was always adorable—despite it being a soft hoarse, husky and a tad bit deep. you leave him with kisses all across his face the moment he warns you that he’s about to reach yet another teeth-shattering orgasm.

“hold my hand, choso.” you’d whisper, stroking his cheek with a thumb. youre trying to distract him from his ecstasy-filled nerves, dark eyes flicker towards you and not for one second does he hesitate.

a big hand grabs onto yours, and he squeezes it. choso swallows, feeling your hips grind and grind back against him.

he doesn’t finish his words before you clench around him, choso’s breathing picks up time and time again before his head throws itself back. you start to moan with him too, completely in sync. giving his hand a squeeze before right when the two of you were about to give in to the shockwaves of pleasure…

faster and faster.

he’s so close to you that he uses another hand to pull you into a hug—you giggle once choso starts moaning right into your ear. “baby, i-i wanna cum with you, but you asked if i could…”

you both come to a sudden respite.

choso’s eyes were half open, and he’s just breathing. “s-shit,” is the first thing that slips out of his mouth as he looks at you. dilated pupils of his that forever got lost in yours.

you smile, heaving yourself before pressing a wet kiss against his lips. it was rare to hear choso curse. hearing the words roll off his tongue, you just wanted to kiss him all over. “think ‘m startin' to see why you—you wanted to be edged so much,” and his voice was pitched a lot lower, you’re still softly moving against him and he lets off a low sigh. “feels so good. different..”

“are you tired already, baby?” you huff out, planting a kiss near the very edge of his mouth.

he grows flustered at your touch, he blinks twice before cutely shaking his head, only for his voice to crack. “w-what? no, ‘m not tired. i was just,” and he pauses, avoiding eye contact and you lean in for a sweet kiss. that always shut him up. choso’s tongue collides against yours, and once he feels your hips start to rock back and forth against his. a moan goes out of him, and you let off a noise yourself once he gives your ass a soft spank. he squeezes it shortly afterward, and it’s not even seconds later before he cums inside.

once he pulls away, strands and strands of spit departing—choso shudders, licking his lips before breathing out a, “…i made such a mess inside,” and you’re taken aback once he grabs your wrist, making your fingers wrap around his neck—a cute plead with his eyes that he wants you to choke him a little. “i want more, please baby. ride me all night, please. jus’ wanna be good for you.”

⟢ FUSHIGURO TOJI

“the nerve you have, girl,” toji grunts. you’re an entire mess, laid all on the bed and he’s got a toy of yours that’s making your legs feel like complete mush. “sending pictures to me while ‘m at work. spamming my phone like that, ‘n to do it in my clothes too?”

“i said s-sorry,” you’d moan, and you tried suppressing your moans but it was little to no use. the wand rubbed against your clit, and it felt so good—you were approaching yet another orgasm that you could practically taste it on the very tip of your tongue. “toji. tojiiii.”

he’s got the toy turned up a few notches, a high level and you’re just idly hitting the back of your head against the pillow. dark irises of toji’s remain on yours to where it makes you not only nervous, but ten times horny.

he scoffs, a free hand reaching towards your right breast to lightly pinch against your nipples. “hard just for me, baby?”

“…i want you not the toy,” you whined, fully ignoring his words. he rolls his eyes, ghosting the rubber head of the toy even more over your soaked pussy. you were so wet, it felt good but you wanted the real thing. toji’s dick, inside of you, stretching you at your very mercy. “i’ll be good, promise.”

“little girl,” he grouses with the most sassiest tone imaginable. his voice was a sexy low, it made you throb.

your orgasm was just screaming for its release that you couldn’t help but start to shift and grind your hips against the toy, oh how pathetically…. “so ungrateful, ‘n i was just about to let you cum.”

“t-toji,” you pouted, raising your neck up just a bit to meet eye contact with him. he snickers, a rough hand of his prying your legs open just a bit more, another still occupied with your tits, his thumb grazes against your perky nipple and you moaned. “it’s boring, i want you toji.”

toji jeers, sliding the toy up and down your folds before staring directly at you. “…boring?” he matches your whiney tone.

“but y’er already so soaked for this stupid fuckin’ toy. ‘sides, don’t even think you deserve to be fucked. that shit’s only for girls who listen.”

“fuck y-you, i— i am listening,” you huff out, your eyebrows curling together and he chuckles at your sudden attitude.

“oh reaaaally? with a tone like that, might as well finish yourself off.”

toji sneers, and you let off a cute frown. he leans up close to you.

you think he’s gonna kiss you but right before he presses his lips against yours, he leaves you looking down with your own lips twitching. “hm,” he utters, moving back before you hear the toy flicker off.

you’re still just sat there, moaning because you wanted to cum—yet toji’s already getting up, and you whimper out a, “t-toji. you said i could cum..”

“y’er a big girl. do it yourself,” he mumbles, burying his hands into his pockets. “have fun with those weak fingers of yours, heh.”

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, sex for favors, oral sex (f + m receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating, fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, joel being a disgustingly nice gentleman, porn with absolutely no plot A/N: I saw this gif float across my pinterest and had a terribly fun idea... so here it is. Enjoy a lil fun ;)

PART 2 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

“S’all fixed up now,” Joel said, walking into the waiting room.

You had been waiting a few hours to have your alignment fixed and tires replaced, and now you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You were on your way through the small town headed east towards Tallahassee when both of your back tires blew out on the highway. You were lucky not to cause a crash and thankfully found a local mechanic shop only half a mile off the road. 

“Thank you so much,” you exhaled as you stood up and stretched your legs.

Joel rounded the counter to the register, typing up the work order to charge you out. Wallet in hand, you waited for the cost, praying it wouldn’t make a dent in your bank account. You only budgeted so much for the road trip, and this definitely wasn’t in the budget.

“Alright, ma’am, lookin’ like it’s gonna be around $500 for everything. Shaved some off just for the hassle you been through,” Joel smiled.

Shit.

“Uh, okay. Great.”

You reluctantly handed over your card, praying it would be enough. Joel swiped it on his machine followed by a loud beep that clearly meant DECLINED. You let out a shaky breath, fishing through your wallet for another card.

“Shit, try this one,” you said.

Joel nodded, his brows furrowing a bit when it also beeped in the same tone. He slid your card across the table, cocking a brow as if to ask, ‘Got another one?’

“Fuck,” you laughed nervously. “Okay, how ‘bout this one?”

Another card. Another decline. How the fuck were you going to get out of town now?

“Sorry, ma’am,” Joel sighed. “No payment means no car ‘m afraid.”

You ran your hand through your hair in frustration, trying to come up with something. Glancing up at him, you took in his broad frame covered by a simple black t-shirt that seemed to hug the planes of his chest perfectly. You hadn’t even noticed the patchy beard or kind grin that he donned so well earlier. Maybe…

“Look, I gotta get out of here tonight,” you pleaded. “Is there anything I can do to just get my car?”

Joel crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps looking much bigger in that position. With a frown turning down his lips, he shook his head.

“Afraid not, ma’am.”

“Anything? Please, I'm begging you.”

He considered you a moment, his eyes raking over your figure. You felt your cheeks warm at that look, knowing what he might be insinuating. If that’s what it took to get your car and get the fuck out of this town, then why not?

“Anything?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty fucking desperate right now.”

Joel came around the corner of the counter, crowding you until your neck craned up to meet his eyes. Your heart thrummed in your ears, warmth blossoming in your stomach the longer he stared at you. 

“Desperate lil’ thing, huh?” He teased.

Backing away from you, Joel walked to the shop entrance and slowly turned the lock. He looked back at you as he flipped the sign to CLOSED as if testing your judgment. You gave him a meek nod, never letting your eyes off him as he stalked toward you again. His finger ran up your forearm, catching on the sleeve of your top and tugging it lightly.

“Follow me, darlin’.”

That sentiment, followed by the twang of his accent, was enough to make your knees buckle, and you followed him like a dog in heat. Joel led you back into the heart of the shop, scraps of tools and car parts littering the makeshift garage. And right in the center of it all was your car. Leaning against the hood, he patted the metal, beckoning you over. You dropped your purse on the workbench and walked toward him on shaky legs. Joel spread his legs a bit wider as you approached, his fingers wrapping around your belt loops to pull you in close.

You were a breath apart now, just the barrier of clothes separating you. Joel’s hands snaked around your waist and firmly palmed your ass through your jeans. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, kneading and massaging until your eyes drifted shut at the feeling.

“You pay off all your debts this way?” His voice dropped an octave, and you felt the bulge in his jeans prodding against your stomach as you leaned closer.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on my car taking a shit out here and definitely wasn’t budgeting for it either.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Ain’t got a boyfriend to give you some cash to help?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be out here tryna fuck you for my car,” you quipped.

A grin split across his face at your defensiveness, as if he enjoyed you being a brat. You weren���t trying to be— honest to god—but you desperately needed to leave this town, preferably with your car. 

“Y’sure are a bratty little thing,” he said, tugging you closer.

“Why don’t you stop talking so much and fuck me so I can get the hell up out of this small fucking town?” You grumbled.

Joel raised one of his hands to grip your chin, steadying your gaze on his. Sliding his thumb over your lips, he coaxed your mouth open and urged you to suck on his finger. Without breaking eye contact, you swirled your tongue over the skin of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it.

“Christ, darlin’,” he exhaled. “Might just let you suck my cock and send you on your way.”

You released it with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping from your bottom lip. Reaching down, you massaged the bulge in his pants, letting out a soft gasp. He was massive—bigger than expected. He let out a small chuckle as if reading your mind, bucking his hips against your touch.

“You’d give me my car for a little blowjob?” You questioned, squeezing his cock tighter.

“S’nothing little about me, darlin’.”

“Aren’t you just full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes.

Your fingers danced over the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down as he helped pull his cock free. You peeked down to catch a glimpse of it, your eyes growing wide. His cock was girthy and thick and definitely had no shortage of length, either. Precum leaked from the tip, and you wet your lips at the idea of trying to fit it all in your mouth.

“Y’gonna suck it or what? Car ain’t gonna pay for itself.”

“You gonna give me my car after?” You tossed back.

“Maybe,” he grinned. “Those tires might cost you extra.”

“We’ll see about that,” you smirked.

Sinking to your knees, you pulled down his jeans and underwear until he adjusted himself at the tip of your lips. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing softly as you guided it into your mouth. Stretching your lips wider, you swirled your tongue around the tip, basking in Joel's groan as you did so.

“S’fucking perfect, darlin’. That mouth feels fucking amazing.”

 You took him deeper, moving your mouth in a rhythmic motion until you felt his hand come down to grip your hair. He held you steady as he snapped his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further down your throat. Sputtering around him, you dug your nails into his thighs as leverage while he continued fucking your throat.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped. “C’mon now, take this fuckin’ cock down your throat.”

Opening your throat wider, you swallowed every thrust as tears streamed down your cheeks. Joel was relentless with his thrusts, your nose brushing against the curls at the base every time you took him deeper. You could sense he was close to the edge, so you dragged your tongue against the base of his cock with each stroke, spurring him on further. It elicited a primal growl deep within his chest, and within seconds you could feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat. His cock twitched inside your mouth as he came down from his high, and you hummed as you swallowed every last drop.

Using the grip on your hair to pull you off, you sat back on your heels, coughing and heaving to try and catch your breath. Joel looked down on you with heavy lidded eyes and a smug grin as if to taunt you. Cupping your cheek, he slid his thumb against your skin and brushed away the rolling tears.

“Open,” he ordered. “Show me.”

You quirked a playful smile, leaning your head back as you stuck your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all. Slapping your face softly, Joel let out a soft chuckle.

“Atta girl.”

You brushed the remainder of your tears away, wiping the makeup from your eyes, and you stood on wobbly legs. Smoothing down your shirt and jeans, you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a brow.

“I think I earned my car back,” you insisted, your voice hoarse from how hard he fucked you.

“Hmmm, y’think so?” Joel questioned. “I think I deserve a taste of that pussy.”

You shoved at him playfully, rolling your eyes. 

“In your dreams, cowboy,” you laughed. 

With his pants still hanging down, Joel spun you until your ass was pressed against the hood of your car. Working at the button and zipper of your jeans, he shoved them down and pulled your legs free until your bare ass was pinned to the cool metal. Joel gave you a lopsided grin and shoved you further onto the hood.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t return the favor, darlin’.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Oh, but I want to,” he argued. “Gotta see how sweet you taste.”

Sliding down, Joel situated himself between your thighs, tugging your calves up to rest on his broad shoulders. He gave you a teasing kiss on your inner thighs before delving in, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud. You careened back against the hood, your back arching as his mouth suctioned around your clit. Crying out, you carded your hand through the brown curls of his hair, anchoring his face against your wet cunt as it pulsed against his mouth. Joel plunged his tongue inside you, forcing another whine from your lips.

“Fuck!” You cried. “Right there! Oh my god, yes!”

He hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers into the mix as he opened you up, curling them against that sweet spot inside you. Keeping his mouth on your clit he worked in tandem with his fingers until that coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. With one more curl of his fingers, your orgasm surged through your body, forcing a gush of liquid to stream out of your wet cunt. Joel sat back in awe, staring at your glistening folds as your body trembled from the release, your juices covering his beard and mustache. 

“Fuck babydoll,” he grinned. “You a squirter, too?”

You laughed awkwardly and watched as he removed his two fingers and brought them to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Joel groaned as he tasted the remnants of your orgasm. You knew you could squirt—it was your own dirty little secret—but something about seeing him covered in your juices made you want more. Tugging him softly with your calves on his shoulders, you urged him back to your soaked entrance, silently begging for another round. 

“Gonna cover me in your juices again, darlin’?” Joel smirked. 

“Mhmm,” you whined. 

“Drench me babydoll, let’s see it.”

Joel’s mouth was on you again, lapping up the juices leaking out of you until you were crying out for him. He didn’t let up as he sucked your aching clit between his teeth, his tongue working at the bud in earnest. He pushed his fingers back into you, your cunt pulsing violently each time he curled them. Slipping a third finger in, he stretched you wider and moaned against your clit as your body tensed with another orgasm. Another rush of liquid made it past his fingers, soaking his mouth and chin. You could feel it trickle down the seam of your cunt, drenching the hood of your car as you thrashed against it.

“Christ, Joel,” you mumbled, your head lolling to the side. 

He rose to his feet, wiping a hand over the hair covering his chin as he smiled at you. You sat up slightly, positioning yourself on your forearms as you watched him slide his jeans further down his legs. You were already in this deep; you might as well keep going. Spreading your legs a bit wider, you raised a finger to beckon him closer. 

“C’mon cowboy,” you teased. 

“Y’really need that car, huh?” He smiled, lining his cock up to your entrance. 

“I really do,” you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously. 

Joel eased himself inside you, inch by fucking inch, until he was fully seated at the base of his cock. You both groaned in unison, his cock sliding in and out of you easily from all the juice leaking from you. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you pushed him deeper, mewling at the sensation of the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You could feel that stinging stretch of your cunt as he picked up his thrusts, your ass sliding up the car each time. 

“Shit, babydoll,” he growled. “S’fucking tight around my cock.”

“You feel so good, Joel,” you hummed. “Please, I need it harder.”

Listening to your pleas, Joel planted his hands on either side of your face, pistoning into you with brute force. He bent down, sucking and biting the skin of your neck until you were crying out from the pain mixing with the pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, your cunt fluttering against his cock each time. That blinding orgasm was on the horizon as your muscles tensed up for its release. Running your hands up under his shirt, you dug your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down his tanned skin. Joel groaned into your ear, his hips snapping against yours harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “I–I’m gonna fucking cum, Joel!”

“Yeah, babydoll? Fuckin’ soak me with it.”

He pulled out at the last moment, a heavy stream of liquid pouring from your cunt and coating your inner thighs and Joel’s cock. Without wasting a second, he drove back into you, picking up the pace despite your body still shaking and dripping from your orgasm. You could feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face, that warmth still coursing inside you. Joel’s thrusts grew erratic and off-rhythm, and you sensed his orgasm was pushing him to the edge. 

“Y’gonna let me fill that pussy, darlin’?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his voice sent shivers up your spine.

“God, please,” you cried.

With one…two…three final strokes, Joel was grunting and painting your insides with thick bursts of his cum. You both lay there limp and fucked out for several moments, catching your breath and chuckling as reality settled back in. He slipped out of you and drew his pants back up his legs, his eyes roaming over your sweaty body. With one hand, he tugged up the zipper of his jeans, using the other to push the cum leaking out of you back into your wet cunt. 

“Gotta send you off with some sort of parting gift,” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, adjusting yourself and sliding off the hood. Joel bent down to ease your pants back over your thighs and hips, helping with your own zipper as you stood awkwardly in front of him. Joel leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the corkboard hanging from the wall. Retrieving your keys from one of the hooks, he offered them to you with a kind smile.

“I’m free to go?” You asked, reaching for them. 

He pulled them away, shaking his head with a teasing grin. You pouted sarcastically, opening your hand and waiting.

“One kiss, and we call it even, babydoll.”

You grabbed either side of his face, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. You coaxed his mouth open, teasing your tongue over his, tasting your arousal still lingering on his tongue. Joel deepened the kiss, tangling his free hand in your hair to anchor you closer. Pressed up against him, you found yourself thirsting for more but knew you had no obligation to stay. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you pulled away reluctantly and snatched the keys from his hand. 

“Thanks for the new tires, cowboy,” you grinned. 

Joel dazzled you with another gorgeous smile, the lines around his eyes creasing as he gave you one final nod. You squeezed your way out of his embrace, making your way to the driver's side door. He followed you over, opening it like the gentleman he was, waiting till you were situated inside. Leaning in for one more kiss, he lingered a moment too long before breaking away.

“Safe travels, darlin’. If you ever need some work done, y’know where to find me.”

You dug your keys into the ignition, letting the car rumble awake. Joel shut the car door with one final smile and watched you reverse out of the mechanic shop. Giving him a small wave, you turned onto the street and back toward the highway with a soreness creeping up your thighs.

[reiderwriter]

♡ Forever Only ♡

Week 3 of my Playlist series

Summary: You thought you wouldn't see him again, at least for a while, but Spencer Reid finds you, and he has questions.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni. Penetrative sex, voyeurism, fingering, multiple orgasms, semi-protected sex, creampie, almost breeding kink, like if you squint, slight angst, dom!Spencer Reid.

A/N: First smut of the series! This one is based on one of my top songs of 2023, everyone say thank you, Jaehyun, for releasing the closest K-pop is ever going to get to 00s R&B. I hope you all enjoy it 🥰

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Of all the places you'd been where you thought of Spencer Reid and your paths crossing again, you never expected it to actually happen here.

The club was lit so low, so you didn't really expect it to be him, your ex-something, not quite boyfriend, far from nothing, situationship maybe? But there he was.

Not just him, but all of them. The BAU, minus their bosses, were all dancing and drinking at various points around the club, having fun but still being vigilant.

You're surprised you notice him before he notices you, but you're not surprised that it doesn't take him much longer.

You're not exactly here to blend in with the crowd.

The low-cut dress with the lower-cut bust line is already getting as much attention as you'd expected it would, and that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer as he finally drags his eyes over to the commotion you've made in the corner.

“I don't know you,” you tried to politely explain to the creep who'd blocked you in with one arm. “I'm just waiting for my friend, please leave me alone.”

“Let's have some fun, baby, you, me, that body you're hiding under those scraps of fabric. I'll make you scream, I promise.”

You'd scoffed the first few times he'd made similar remarks, but he was tenacious, and he didn't understand the word “no,” and was vaguely unfamiliar with “leave,” “me,” and “alone” too.

You'd scanned the room for a friendly face and had locked eyes with the man you'd been waiting six months to meet again. Perfect timing.

Of course, he'd picked up on your discomfort and walked your way, and of course, he'd bought back-up.

“Y/N, you should've sent me a text when you got here!” Emily Prentiss expertly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a hug, as the man was forced to let you move.

“Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked,” you mumbled, still feeling the weight of the creeps gaze on you despite your newly inherited guard dogs.

“Come on over to the table, baby girl, we got bottle service. I'm going big tonight.” You tried to thank Morgan as well, but the smile you sent him didn't reach your eyes as you consciously avoided Spencer's gaze.

“You know these people, babe?” The stranger from behind you put a hand on your waist as he pulled you back a step, leaving you stumbling wide eyed until your back was to his chest, shoulders unconsciously rounding into a protective stance as you tried to shrug hum off.

“For the last time, let go of me. I don't know you, and I don't want to know you. This is your last warning.” You rounded on the man, turned your back to the other three agents, and tried to calm your thoughts to see his next reaction.

“Stuck-up bitch, I said you're coming home with me tonight.”

You made sure his last attempt to grab you was his last attempt to grab any woman as you flipped him onto his back, your fellow agents behind you pulling their guns and handcuffs to helpfully lead him out of his hunting grounds.

You'd hadn't wanted to see Spencer Reid again so soon, and you certainly hadn't wanted to enlist the entire teams help on a serial rape case, but it wasn't your final decision to make.

And honestly, you'd been glad for the help in the take down, with your office so understaffed.

After reading the creep his rights, seizing the date rape drug he'd planned to slip into your drink later that night, and the knives and rope in his card that he was planning to also use on you, you were just thankful that you had all the help you could get.

Now that you were back at the station at 4am, with nothing but aching muscles from handing the nearly 200 lbs man his ass to him on a platters and aching feet from doing it in heels, you wanted nothing else than for the last week to erase itself.

Six months absence from the BAU wasn't long enough to fall out of love with Spencer Reid, and you never thought it would be.

A year was all the time it had taken to fall head over heels for the man, and you'd assumed you could reverse that in the same time, so you'd left.

It wasn't a leave of absence but a strategic departure to a task force in Rapid City, where rape numbers were spiking. You were still doing your job, that was the important part.

You changed into your comfortable clothes in the locker room and grabbed your bag, ready to head out for the night, picking up your keys to head home. You only got two steps out of the room when you ran into him.

“Early start?” He joked, looking at you again with that hesitant half-smile he'd worn the entire week he'd been here.

“Late night.” You replied. It had been a joke you'd developed after so many unusual shifts, so many 3am run-ins where neither of you could find the effort to make actual polite conversation so you'd said the two sentences and sat in amicable silence, often rested against each other as you let exhaustion carry you through the night.

“Can we talk? We're leaving in the morning, and I…” he struggled to find the words, jaw clenching and releasing the way it always did when he couldn't put his emotions into words just yet.

“Sure. But not here. My apartment is a five minute drive.” He nodded and followed you out of the building as you primed your heart to shatter into pieces again.

The drive home was quiet and peaceful, too late for natural traffic, and too early for the morning commute to begin. You made it home in record time and led him inside the apartment you'd chosen.

You flipped the light switch and kept you back to him while you completed your daily routine, trying your best to ignore that he was standing in your doorway. You tried not to be curious about what he could tell about you from the doorway, what the lack of decoration meant, how different it was from that cosy box room three blocks from his apartment, how cold it seemed instead.

So you kept your eyes off him to not have to answer the questions he'd likely have.

“So what did you want to talk about, Spence?” You almost cursed yourself for how easily the nickname slipped from your tongue. You'd heard JJ call him that a few times your first week in the office and assumed it was something everyone used for him. The way he flushed red when you said it the first time was engraved in your head, those first heavy beats of your heart alerting you to oncoming danger.

You grabbed two bottles of water from your fridge and walked back to your living room, where he was still stood taking things in.

“Spencer?” You asked again, holding out the bottle.

He took it with a small smile of thanks, and you led him over to the sofa, urging him to talk again.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“You… you didn't say goodbye.”

You knew this was coming, but you hoped he wouldn't have the courage to ask you the questions you knew were about to arrive at your door.

“I'm coming back in six months, Spencer. I didn't say goodbye because it wasn't going to be goodbye.” You'd turned this excuse over in your brain enough to know it was a weak argument, but you hoped your friendly smile would reassure him.

“You didn't tell anyone you were leaving until you were gone. That hurt a lot.”

“I didn't want to hurt you. Everything was just so fast. I had to take the offer immediately, or they would've moved onto someone else. You understand, right, Spencer?” He sat back, resigned, and nodded again slightly.

But a silence built up as he stared at you, and your hands got all sweaty the way they always did when he paid attention to you. You couldn't just stare everywhere else until he broke the silence again.

“How is Rachel? I haven't heard from her in a while.” You blurted the words under the weight of his gaze.

And you knew you'd said too much in those two sentences.

You'd first introduced Spencer to your college roommate after you realised you were in love with him. You'd spent a year at the BAU, and you thought he felt the same way, too.

You hadn't said anything, but you ate together at his apartment weekly, and you went on outings - dates, you'd thought they were dates - to museums and movies. He'd slept over at your house once, and you'd never felt happier than waking up with his arms wrapped around you.

So, of course, you'd taken him along to a party your friend from college was throwing. You'd nearly introduced him as your boyfriend, and looking back, you were glad Rachel had cut you off before you could.

“Is this the famous Spencer Reid? You're cuter than I thought you'd be.” You saw the flirtatious spark in her eyes, heard her tone, and felt uncomfortable.

You felt even worse when she took his hand and led him off to introduce him to more of your friends without a glance back at you.

For the first hour, you were worried about him, knowing that he never did great in social settings. You contented yourself by catching up with old friends, nursing a glass of wine, and trying not to follow him around the room with your eyes.

You'd given up and sat miserably in the corner for the next hour before you'd decided you wanted to leave. This time you'd had to track him down.

It wasn't that you'd found him in any compromising situation. He was just sat on the couch, smiling and talking to her. But when you said you wanted to go home, and he'd agreed to drive you back, she'd grabbed his hand.

“So Tuesday, 8 pm, right? It's a date." He nodded and said his goodbyes, and you wiped all of the emotion off your face so you didn't break down right there.

He talked to you as he drove back, but you could only nod and hum in response.

You shrugged off his concern as you walked into your apartment alone and let your heart break.

You were in Rapid City the next week.

“Your friend from college? I'm….I'm not sure.” He looked genuinely confused down at you as your lungs capsized in on themselves.

“Oh, right.” You nodded again and forced out a yawn, desperate to get rid of him before he could climb back into your heart again and roost there.

“You didn't keep in touch with her after you moved?”

“We had… a disagreement.” It was a kind way to put what had happened. You'd sent her one text asking her what all of that was at her party, and she'd sent you a paragraph back the day of her date with Spencer calling you pathetic and lonely and jealous. And then she'd blocked your number.

“That sucks. She seemed nice.” You couldn't help but scoff at his words, completely forgetting your plan to ask him to leave. Of course, he thought Rachel was nice. He'd been half in love with her by the end of that party.

“What was that for?” He asked, the words spilling out quickly as his eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing. It's late, Spencer.”

“I don't think it was nothing. Why are you asking me about your friend? Why would I know?” He was on the edge of his seat now, and you needed desperately to put some space between you. You stood up and stretched, moving to clean up a pile of papers you'd left on your coffee table that morning.

“You certainly seemed interested six months ago, Spence. I just assumed there was a second date after that first one. My bad.”

You moved to your kitchen, bit he followed you.

“What do you mean? Y/N?” You weren't listening though, instead organising and cleaning things at a quick pace so your brain didn't have to focus on his question.

“Y/N, look at me. Please.” He stepped closer his chest nearly against your back as his hand found your wrist.

It was involuntary, but you relaxed into his familiar grip, your body finally content, and now it was back in his arms.

“Or don't look at me and just listen to me. I don't know what you're talking about, but I never went on any date with Rachel. I wasn't interested in her like that, I was interested in-” He stopped short, frustration ebbing his voice off as the silent words hung between the two of you.

You finally turned around to look at him, and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

He whispered his question again.

“Why didn't you say goodbye?”

“Because my heart was broken, Spencer. Because I took you to meet my friends and I thought I was going to introduce you as my boyfriend, but instead I got ignored the whole night and then you arranged to meet with her and she called it a date. I loved you, I love you and I couldn't say goodbye because then I'd have to hear about it. About how you were happy without me, when I was lonely and broken without you.”

You didn't know you were crying until the tears his your lips. He wiped then away, but they still tasted salty as you licked your lips.

“I didn't come to work for a month,” he confessed. “After you left, I tried to give Hotch my resignation letter. He wouldn't tell me where you went. I came back but it wasn't the same without you.” His forehead rested against yours, noses touching as his words came out barely above a whisper.

“I can't come back, Spencer. Not until I don't feel this way anymore.”

He didn't miss a beat before pressing his lips against yours.

“Don't.” He said between kisses, pinning you against your kitchen counter as he gripped your waist in one hand. You didn't pull away, even as you felt your hot tears flow freely.

“Don't stop loving me. Please.” His voice broke as he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms tight around your back, pinning your hands to his chest as sobs wracked through your body.

You'd held onto this pain for a year and it was all spilling out now.

He looked at you again and started kissing each tear away, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and he was as close you you as he could possibly be.

“Love me forever. Please.”

You pulled his head away to look at him again, searching for reassurance again that this wasn't going to be one-sided.

“What about you? If I love you forever, which I don't think I have a choice in, how-”

“I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, I will always love you. I don't know how it wasn't clear when I followed you around every second of the day.” He kissed you with each confession, looking angry at himself that he'd never said the words before.

“I asked your friend how I should ask you to be my girlfriend. She had a lot of ideas and said we should meet up and talk about it. I didn't know…” He cursed, not quite as quietly as he'd attempted to. The strangeness of it shocked a laugh out of you, the rumble of it vibrating through your chest. He still held you tightly, but he looked at you again, getting out of his head.

“What's funny?”

“You tried to quit your job to look for me.”

“You moved to South Dakota instead of asking what we were.”

“You kissed me before you told me how you felt.”

“You kissed me back and then you laughed at me.”

“You swore!” You laughed again, and you were sure that he was going to have to put you down this time. You were laughing so much.

Instead he pulled you tighter into his arms and walked out of the kitchen.

“Is this the bedroom?” He asked nodding towards the closed door.

Your laugh quieted at the charged question, until your eyes found his lips as you nodded.

“Good.”

You let him lay you down on the bed before you pulled him in for another kiss, this one more fiery than any you'd shared in the kitchen as he hovered over you on the bed.

“Spencer!” You gasped as his hands trailed under your shirt. You regretted changing out of that small dress now, regretting the amount of fabric between you and him as his hands glided up to your breasts, mouth pressing kiss after kiss into your neck and collarbone.

He nestled his knee between yours and climbed fully over you, pushing your legs open as he showed you where you were going next. You moaned as your back arched into his touch, rubbing yourself against him but still needing him closer.

“I love every sound you make.’ He whispered as his other hand worked its way under the sweatpants you'd thrown on earlier, silently pushing them down your legs as you lifted your hips to help him once again.

His mouth connected with yours again after he got them to your knees, hand pressing flat against your stomach as you finished off the job.

He laid next to you, pulling his lips off your own as you trailed after him. But his eyes weren't on you anymore. You followed his gaze to his hand and watched him slip his fingers under your panties as he began to tease your sensitive parts.

You whimpered slightly as the contact, as he gathered some of your wetness and ran his fingers up and down your sensitive parts.

His lips found your ears. “Just like that. I want to hear you just like that. Whimper for me, Y/N. Beg for me. Let me know how much you want this.”

You gasped as he started rubbing slow even circles around your clit, his body still rolled to the side so he could watch intently the pleasure on your face.

It was near voyeuristic, his eyes focused on your face, the pants of air escaping your lips, the way your nipples had hardened, and had become visible through your shirt.

You hadn't been able to wear a bra with your dress earlier, you wanted to explain, but you couldn't find the words.

“Look at your body reacting to me. You need me to make you feel like this.” He whispered, lowering his head to press a chaste kiss over your clothed nipple. “Right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes Spencer. I need you.”

“Here. Can you feel how much I need you, too?” He grabbed your hand in his free one and pulled it over his erection, instructing you silently on how to hold it and rub it.

“I can feel it, Spencer. Please, please fuck me.” Your voice felt alien to yourself. You'd never had that high of a sex drive before, so you'd never thought you'd ever have to beg for it. But there was something in the tender touch of Spencer's fingers that has you desperate to feel him inside you.

“Do you have condoms?”

“No.”

“Birth control?”

“Yes, yes, please, Spencer. Please, I don't care.” His pace had picked up, his fingers moving slightly rougher than before, but you knew you were close as he kept massaging your sensitive clit.

You knew you were going to cum before you felt him inside you, you knew you'd want to cum again. You were going to be forever insatiable because of this man.

He kissed his way across your skin as he peeled your shirt and his clothes off, leaving your panties for last as he watched you grind your cunt into his fingers.

“I love you,” he whispered In your ear as he stroked his cock, watching your body convulse as you came just at his touch.

He kept his lips close to your ear as he entered you during the throes of your first orgasm, whispering again when he had slid his entire length into you. “And you're mine.”

You were intoxicated by his touch, cum drunk as he began thrusting and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He nipped and sucked at your neck, listening to you moan and whimper as he pulled out and entered you again and again, head thrown back into the sheets of the bed you'd been too eager to climb underneath.

A few minutes of thrusting and he gripped your waist and sat you up on his cock, moving his hands to your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he bounced you steadily on his cock.

“Shit, Spencer, you're…so…deep,” you pulled him in closer, burying your head in his neck as you deafened as embarrassing squeal.

You came again on his cock as he used you like a flashlight, his own pants and groans soundtracking your breathless orgasm.

“That's it, good job, Y/N,” he cooed at you, lowering you back onto your back and thrusting shallowly through your convulsions. When you'd recovered slightly again, he gently pushed your legs up, stretching you so your knees were as far back as they could go, splayed open so they were almost touching the bed.

His forehead rested against yours again as he held you in place, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he snapped his hips into you with long, quick thrusts that had you gasping again for the breath he was forcing out of your lungs.

“I love you. And you are mine.” He said. “I love you, and you are mine.” The words were a mantra to him as he worked himself to the edge.

“Yes, yes, I'm yours. I love you, I'm yours, Spencer.” He came with a whimper, releasing inside of you and collapsing gently into your arms as you readied yourself to hold one another for the rest of eternity.

[reminiscingtonight]

Pretending (Pt. 2)

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Word Count: 986

Part One

[WOSO Masterlist]

“Do you want to get married?”

You’re soaking in the sun, a welcome change from the cloudy skies of Manchester when Aitana pops the question.

You crack open an eye. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

She says it with the most serious face that you start questioning if you’re the crazy one here.

“Are you asking me what my thoughts are about marriage in general or marriage between us?”

Aitana doesn’t have to say anything, she only gives you a look. 

You sigh, propping yourself up on an arm so you can face Aitana when having this conversation. “We’re not even dating.”

Aitana shrugs. “If it matters that much to you we can give it a day.”

It’s such a ridiculous proposition that you can’t do anything but laugh. “So what? We can tell our children we dated for a day before we got married?”

This time she grins, finger drifting to hook around your own. “Time doesn’t matter. We both know whatever this is, whatever we are, it’s been going on far longer than a day.”

You’ve been back in Barcelona for close to a year now. The two of you picked up right where you left off, spending almost all of your waking moments with one another. Even when night comes round, it’s rare to find you sleeping apart. 

Ona calls you both codependent idiots, Ingrid calls it something sweet, all you know is that it works for the two of you and although you’re not dating, it’s a life you can find yourself getting used to.

When the break came around and Ona announced she was going somewhere tropical with Lucy, Aitana was quick to make some plans for just the two of you. 

You didn’t question it much, happy to just spend time with the girl you’ve been pining after for years. 

At first everything was normal. Sure, Aitana’s been a bit more sentimental than usual, opting to reminisce about your childhood adventures or bring up the unofficial first dates of yours from all those years ago. But you don’t think too much about it, choosing instead to focus on not ogling all of the skin on display as Aitana’s primary activity these past couple days have consisted of nothing but sunbathing.

It’s not like you haven’t caught Aitana eyeing you up and down a couple of times too, but it’s different between the two of you. You’re still patiently waiting for Aitana to drop the pretense that you’re anything more than just friends, hence the respect you’ve been giving (though if she continues wearing two-pieces and hanging off your arm all day every day you might have to catch an early flight home before you combust). Aitana on the other hand… well you’re not really sure what she’s doing.

Though you can probably conclude that she’s not pretending anything anymore if she’s asking for your hand in marriage.

“I love you.”

Though her words fill you with warmth, you can’t help but frown at her sudden change in demeanor. Just three days ago when you were still surrounded by your teammates in Barcelona, Aitana cracked a joke about loving you when hell froze over --- though you probably deserved that comment after you let Mapi convince you to dunk her socks in the ice bucket. Although she’s affectionate with you, she’s never this affectionate.

“Aita, what’s going on?” you sit up, taking care to scoop Aitana’s hand into yours.

The smile slips off her face as her eyes drop, fingers nervously tapping by her side.

It’s automatic, the way your free hand rises, rubbing at the furrow between her brows.

Aitana melts into your touch, face leaning forward until your hand has no choice but to cup her cheek.

“It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of,” you murmur, trying to prompt Aitana to speak her mind.

Aitana looks lost in thought for a moment. She bites at her lip before letting out the longest sigh known to man. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired waiting for me?”

You’re not able to stop the laugh that bubbles past your lips. “If that’s what you’re afraid of, you have nothing to worry about. I’m in this for the long run, even if that means waiting for you until we’re gray and old. I’m happy with what we are right now as long as you’re happy too.”

“But what if I’m ready now?” 

You blink, not expecting the sureness behind her voice. There’s a slight fire in Aitana’s eyes, the midfielder looking like she’d move mountains just for you to understand how serious she is. 

“I know I’ve always put football first but you have always been the one thing I’ve wanted to commit to. You’ve been so patient with me, loving me when I never gave you a reason to. You bring me up when I’m sad, give me reasons to smile when I just want to cry, you’re what I love falling asleep to every night, and seeing your face when I wake up just fills me up with joy.”

Your eyes flutter shut when she leans forward to press her head against yours. You can feel her breath running hot against your lips and it takes everything in you to not bridge the gap. 

“I love the way you know me and I love the way you’re you.”

When your lips finally meet there’s no other way to describe the kiss than perfect. It’s short and sweet but it’s everything you’ve been waiting for. 

“I love you. So much.”

Aitana’s giving you a teary grin when you open your eyes, and you can’t do anything but smile right back at her. 

“So will you marry me?”

---

Ona’s eyes nearly fall out of her head when she sees the matching bands on your fingers when you stroll into the locker room a week later.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Call Up

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You get called up

Your first senior call up happens when you're seventeen (nearly eighteen) and still playing at Arsenal.

You've got a day off before the derby against Chelsea so your mothers have flown out to support you and, somehow, you've ended up at Millie Bright's house.

You're surrounded by your Momma and Morsa's old teammates (and a few of the Arsenal girls who were on the team when you were very little). There aren't enough seats for everyone but you're happy to sit on the floor in front of Momma and let her slowly card her fingers through your hair.

It's one of the things you've missed about being in England. You miss the little things about Momma and Morsa like this. You know they miss you too because there's never a day where they rearrange your daily video calls or don't send Leah around to your apartment when they think you're feeling especially sad on the call.

You miss them. They miss you. But you all know that it's best for you to be here, in England. You're still the second choice keeper but you know that if you keep working hard then by your eighteenth birthday, you'll have managed to clinch the number one spot.

After the derby, it's international break and you know that, while the senior teams are calling everyone up this week, you need to wait a few more days until the Denmark youth team sends for you again.

You've settled in well in the under-nineteen squad and you know that there's a round of friendlies coming up soon that you're excited to be apart of.

"The third choice keeper broke her arm," You can hear Morsa complain about the Swedish team," It was such a freak accident. It was gory to even watch. I almost threw up."

You don't pay much attention though, leaning back easily into Momma's hands. You're not paying attention to anything actually because you almost miss the vibrating of your phone on your leg.

You don't recognise the number but you pick it up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Is this y/n?" A professional-sounding voice asks," The Arsenal keeper?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Excellent. I'm calling up on behalf of the Swedish Senior team. I'm sure you know by now but our usual third keeper has been injured. We're offering you the call up in her place."

"W-What?"

You must sound especially panicked because everyone in the room has turned to look at you in confusion.

"I understand that you usually play for Denmark's youth teams but we've had our eye on you for a while. We've got a round of three friendlies coming up, one for each keeper, and would love to have you with us."

You feel frozen in place, capable of nothing but blinking.

"I..."

"Sorry," The person says," I'm getting ahead of myself. I understand completely if you wish to stay with Denmark. You're such a talent. Forgive me for wanting to have it on my team. I understand if you need to discuss this with your mothers as well. Do you need some time to think about it?"

"No!" You say quickly.

You've never really thought about a senior team call up. You just kind of assumed that Denmark would be the obvious choice. You've spent so much time in a Denmark shirt that you just assumed Sweden didn't want you anymore.

"You've already come to a decision?"

Your feelings on this call up must have already been decided. It must have been decided for years in some deep, hidden away part of your brain because there's no need to even think about it. There's no need to even discuss it with Momma and Morsa.

Somehow, you think you've always known the decision you would come to.

"I'd love to join you for the friendlies."

You can hear the person's smile through the phone. "Excellent," They say," The details will be sent to your email as well as your agent's, who I'm sure will forward it to your mothers. Just in advance, what would you like on your jersey? Your name or Eriksson-Harder, like your Denmark jersey?"

You make eye contact with Momma, who looks increasingly worried the longer you stay on the phone. "Harder-Eriksson," You say," Please."

"You've got it. I'll see you very soon, y/n."

"Yeah, you too."

The call ends and you stare at your phone for several seconds.

"It's a bit early for the youth team call up," Morsa teases," You're changing your name? Does Eriksson-Harder not cut it anymore for Denmark?"

You blink. "More like Harder-Eriksson suits Sweden better."

"Sweden called you up?" Momma asks," That's strange. You've never had any problem rejecting their call if it came before Denmark's before."

You shake your head. "No, it wasn't the youth team. It was the senior team."

The room's quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Morsa's voice goes hoarse. "What?"

You look at her. "I got called up for Sweden's senior team."

Someone else in the room, Leah, you think, says," Holy shit."

Momma pulls you into a hug. "Harder-Eriksson?" She asks, eyes glistening with tears.

You manage to shrug. "Morsa got Eriksson-Harder when I played for Denmark. You get Harder-Eriksson when I play for Sweden."

Morsa is still frozen in shock, looking much like how you feel. Her hands are shaking a little as she crushes you in her embrace. When she pulls away, she's crying too.

"Magda," Momma says," Why don't you call Frido? I'm sure she'd want to know."

Morsa nods robotically. "Right. Yes. Frido. Would want to know. Yes."

"And you," Momma says fondly, cupping your face and kissing your forehead," I think you should call a certain retired keeper, shouldn't you?"

You've already got Zećira's contact lined up on your phone.

[kkencess]

downtown baby, chapter one.

i. professor suguru, the hot asshole. 𖤐

summary; you’re a pretty nerd in college. unfortunately, with the word nerd attached to your name, there’s usually one thing that comes to mind first. bullies. well, maybe you are being picked on a bit, just not by your classmates… but wait, your hot professors?

˚ ༘ ♡ ·˚ ༘ you never thought you’d go from nerd, to hot nerd— but a lot of things seemed to change the second you made it to college. who knew guys were so obsessed with a pretty girl in glasses? heck, surely not you. but, you couldn’t say you hated it all that much. you got a few benefits from it, and you weren’t being bullied.

you were on the school’s volleyball team, and you were a great player. you had a nice body, a little fame, and you were somehow able to balance your studies, on top of sports. you liked your college experience so far, and it was enjoyable— needless to say.

the only problem you had were unfortunately your professors.

your grades were up to par, you came to class on time most days, and you even did extra credit assignments when offered. you were starting to think you were being treated a little unfairly by your teachers, but there wasn’t any way to prove it. why did it seem like your grades were slowly, but surely dropping— despite how outstanding your work was?

so, here you were— thinking about your professor named; suguru. a rather handsome man who you had grown to despise. a bunch of the students had a crush on him, hell— even men. that gorgeous hair of his was usually tied up into a bun, though strands of hair that were too short usually slipped out, and resided against his forehead.

he had pretty slender eyes, a great athletic form— heck, he even smelled great and had good hygiene, and skin as far as you knew… still, you freaking hated him. you were starting to think he picked on you specifically, because you seemed to be the only one with this academic issue.

“you’re exaggerating, cutie. i’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” a male associate of yours said, who you hadn’t even remembered the name of. he had a hand pressed against the small of your back, that he rubbed thoroughly…

“i know he hates me. look at this!” you tell him, before grabbing a piece of paper from your bag. it showed your grade, and you scored an eighty-nine percent. “i was supposed to get a perfect score, yet that asshole keeps nitpicking my work. he didn’t even bother rounding my grade up to an a.”

the guy looks briefly at you, before licking at his lips. he had a lazy smile on his lips, and it was clear he wasn’t paying you any mind. “you’re so fuckin’ cute…” he mutters, before his eyes fell shut.

you sigh, getting up from your spot, and grabbing your things. that guy had paid for your lunch, but after that— your appetite was far gone. you decided it was time you took matters into your own hands. instead of hiding like you always did, you’d have to confront professor suguru yourself.

so, you head over to his classroom. you let your emotions get the best of you; and you ended up banging harshly against his classroom’s door. of course you’d regret it after, wincing in pain as you looked down at your acrylic’s. good thing you always got a short set, but shit they still hurt like hell.

shortly after all your knocking, the classroom door did in fact open. the pain from your hands suddenly seemed to fade away, and you’d quickly get your shit together as you looked up at the tall man; who towered over you with ease. maybe you should look into buying platform shoes, your low top converse weren’t doing you much good in height competitions.

professor suguru looked down at you; those eyes of his seeming to watch you intensely. there was something so… off about him. his gaze almost seemed predatory. you unknowingly trembled, the longer he stared— and for a second, you forgot why you were here.

“can i help you?” he’d ask, eyes unblinking as he watched you. that was right, you were here to complain about his horrible grading skills, and uncalled for pestering. how could you forget?

“u-um, yeah.” you stutter, quickly clearing your throat before you began to voice your complaints. “i’ve noticed my grades have been dropping, and i know i’m doing the work perfectly.” you start, hoping you hadn’t come off as cocky. well, you were being truthful. you were doing the work without flaws.

“is that so?” he’d ask, back pressed against the metal door behind him. he seemed to think for a second, before his lips curled up; just a bit. you almost didn’t notice it. did he find humor in this? “oh, i see. so you think i’m grading your work incorrectly?”

“i know you are.” you say, your voice stern, and harsh. it wasn’t a mistake, you fully intended to be rude. serves him right…

he seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst. he’d scoff shortly, eyes swishing down your frame. his gaze was cunning, and direct— he knew what he was doing. he was trying to intimidate you, and it was working.

“you have no idea what you’re talking about, little girl. maybe simmer down on the cockiness, and start double checking your work. maybe then you’ll see a positive change in your grades.” he’d insult, his fingers grasping roughly at your face. you’d squirm in his hold, though your attempts to slip away were rather futile.

“sir— let go of me!” your efforts to shout seemed useless, and his grip was firm. you hadn’t expected him to put his hands on you of all things. was this even allowed? what a rule-breaking asshole, you knew there was something up with him.

he’d soon release you, which was on such short notice. you’d stumble back, falling against the ground. this is so embarrassing. you thought, as you quickly gathered your spilled files, and folders.

professor suguru seemed humored by this, and he’d sort of kneel down to match your height, his warm breath fanning against your ear. he’d press a hand against your lower back, fingers slowly grazing the anatomy. unbeknownst to you, his eyes did sweep down your thighs, that were exposed because of how your skirt folded when you were bent.

he’d grab your cheeks once more; forcing your attention on him this time. he was so harsh, to the point where you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. if it wasn’t already obvious, he was inflicting a concerning amount of pain. “watch yourself. next time, i won’t let you off so easily.” he’d whisper, his face so close you could feel his breath fanning across your lips.

and then, he’d get up, and leave; the sound of his classroom door shutting quickly snapping you out of your thoughts. you’d sit up, bum pressed against your backpack that was also on the ground. you’d quickly wipe at your eyes beneath your lenses, not giving the tears time to drop.

“what an asshole…!” you’d curse, back pressed against the wall behind you.

chapter two link.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Binary Star

Part I

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

____________

He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.

If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.

Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.

"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.

What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?

It got him so fired up he actually started studying.

"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."

"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"

"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."

To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.

Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.

But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.

The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!

When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.

If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.

It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.

But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.

Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?

He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?

How could she just... vanish?

He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.

Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?

In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.

"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."

Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?

"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."

Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.

__________

He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.

Part II

Tags: @minshookie29

[toomuchracket]

if you're too shy, part 3 (office nerd!matty x reader smut/fluff)

oh nooooooooo, you and your hot sort-of boyf colleague are left alone in the office together, whatever are you to do? teehee! part 1 here, part 2 here. enjoy <3

matty looks so good right now.

the golden hour light streams through the office windows, totally illuminating him in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. leaning round the side of your laptop, you watch as he pulls his jumper over his head, messing up his curls endearingly and revealing those tattooed arms you've spent a lot of time in over the past two weeks, since that fateful night in camden; thinking back to a few nights ago, when one of those arms was tight around your waist and another was braced between your legs, diligently following your instructions, heat starts to pool in your lower stomach, travelling lower and lower until you're forced to clamp your thighs together just to stay sane.

your sigh echoes around the empty-aside-from-both-of-you office, the noise slightly louder than you'd intended. matty looks up, a sweet smile on his gorgeous face. “i know, darling,” he says softly. “just a little bit longer, yeah?”

the phrasing would be infuriating if you weren't totally sure he meant it in earnest. you nod, smiling back at him. “okay. you look amazing right now, by the way.”

“oh, stop it,” matty's cheeks redden quite beautifully. “come and sit with me, beautiful girl - need motivation to finish this conclusion.”

no need to ask you twice.

you put your laptop away and wander over, preening at the way matty looks at you with blatant desire. the lust in his eyes gives you an idea, sending another burst of heat to your core; once you snuggle onto matty's lap and give him a kiss, you speak. “so, you need motivation?”

“desperately,” he sighs, burying his head into your neck and lightly kissing the juncture of your jaw and throat. “i've only got a hundred or so words to go, but it's impossible. help me, angel, please?”

“alright, then,” you kiss his neck in return, smiling into the skin when he hums happily, and press little pecks up his cheek so you can whisper, sultry, in his ear. “as soon as you finish the article, i'll have sex with you.”

matty lets out a noise that can be best described as a squeak, turning to look at you, wide-eyed - if not for the obvious hardening in his trousers beneath you, you'd assume he was horrified. “are you serious? like, you mean,” he wildly gestures to the desk with his free hand. “we could do it here?”

“seems sturdy enough, yeah,” you quip, raking a hand through his hair. “you've never thought about bending me over the desk here? i have. a lot.”

“no, i, um, i've thought about that,” comes the sheepish reply. matty looks at you properly. “but don’t you want our first time to be, like, in a bed? somewhere comfier?”

bless him. you kiss him again. “honestly, matty, i'm less concerned about where than i am when. feel,” you take his free hand and slide it up your dress, across the seam of the lacy underwear you've all but soaked through; he swears quietly, looking down at you in wonder. “and that's only from thinking about you inside me.”

“christ,” matty groans into your neck. “well… wait, aren’t there cameras in here? won't we get caught?”

“none in range of the desks, just the - oh, fuck - just the corridors,” you reply as best you can while matty sucks a bruise into your skin, spurred on by the knowledge you can fuck without interruption. “but even if there were, i know how to localise the cameras and reset and edit the footage without anyone realising it's been changed.”

“i have literally never found you sexier.”

“you're an idiot,” you giggle, pulling matty in for a surprisingly sweet kiss - it soon gets dirty, though, as you move to properly grind down onto him and pull the neckline of your dress down. “how about now?”

in spite of the fact that he’s seen them a few times now, matty whines at the sight of your tits. like, actually whines. the noise goes straight to your panties, and you can feel matty get even harder as you grind deeper onto him to try and relieve your discomfort; he buries his face between your tits, moaning into the skin before trying to take one wholly into his mouth. he’s frantic, actually, hand coming up to clutch the other while his hips begin to jerk up into yours, syncopated and desperate.

oh, you’re going to have so much fun ruining him.

“matty, sweetheart,” you say, in a singsongy voice that morphs into a moan when his teeth scrape against the soft skin on the side of your tit. “fuck, matty, babe, don't get too excited just yet - you've got work to finish, yeah?”

“i'll do it later,” his reply is muffled by your chest.

you pull his hair sharply - not enough to be agonising, but enough to make him look up at you; he looks fucked, cheeks rosy and eyes wild, and you're obsessed with it. but still, you can't let him get away with not listening to you. “but that wasn't the deal, was it, angel?”

matty sighs. “no. m'sorry.”

“good boy,” you kiss his forehead, smiling into him as he whimpers in response to the praise, and readjust yourself so you're sitting on his lap rather than straddling it. when you snuggle into him, pulling your dress back up, he kisses the side of your head, and your heart flutters. “i'll still sit with you while you finish writing, though.”

“thanks, angel.”

your motivational idea seems to work - it only takes matty ten more minutes to finish the article, fingers flying across the keys and pretty lips mouthing the words as he types them. you love watching him work, always have; the intensity in his eyes is magnetic, and flitting your own between his face and lips and hands is only continuing to turn you on. you could have grinded on him again, worked yourself up to tease him, but no. you'll wait, and you'll get off together.

what a delicious thought.

“there. done,” matty hits ctrl-s and exhales, nuzzling into you. “was you proofing part of the deal, or…?”

“nah,” you kiss his head, turning it gently so you can kiss him properly. “i'll just look at it when we get home.”

he smiles dreamily, which is also how you feel about the thought of domesticity together. “i like the sound of that.”

“so do i,” you move to straddle him again, kissing him deeply and grinding down onto him even more so. “you know what else i like the sound of?”

“what’s that?”

you grin. “you fucking me.”

“shit,” matty kisses you hungrily, deeply, sloppily; a trail of spit connects your mouths even as he pulls away, manic. “how do you want me?”

“oh, in so many ways,” you aren’t lying. “but right now… i want to look at you, while you fuck me on this desk. how does that sound?”

he closes his eyes, gulping as he nods enthusiastically. fuck, he’s so pretty. “that- yeah, that sounds good. great! it sounds great. really.”

“yeah?” god, you’re such a bitch for teasing him.

he doesn’t notice, though. “yeah,” matty smiles shyly. “thank you, darling. i really like making you feel good.”

your heart flutters, and all you can do is pull him in by the collar of his shirt and crash your lips onto his. desire practically seeps out of you both, but it’s accompanied by something tender, affectionate - you’re not sure what, exactly, but you like it.

actually, you’re not really sure of anything at the moment, except how badly you need him. you tell matty as much, murmur it into his mouth like it’s gospel, and he practically faints. “alright, sweetheart, alright,” he shakily exhales into your mouth. “let me get you ready.”

before you can snarkily rip him for getting you ready when he’s all but on the edge of climax already, matty’s lifting you up, kissing you as he gently - goosebump-inducing gently - lays you on your back on the desk. the wood is cold against your skin, despite the heat, but it’s nice; what’s even nicer, though, is the way matty fumbles for his discarded jumper and lays it under your head. he looks at you carefully, big beautiful eyes travelling all over your face (surely blushing, looking up at him all gormless and lovesick) to determine how you’re feeling. “is this okay?”

you nod, slightly too overwhelmed to speak. shit. you’re supposed to be the one doing the flustering.

(secretly, you don’t mind the way he’s treating you. not one bit.)

“good,” matty beams. a split-second later, his cheeks are rosy again. “can i, um, can i… look at your boobs again, please?”

“if you unbutton your shirt, yeah - s’only fair, isn’t it?”

he obliges immediately, fingers shaky as he reveals his bare skin. your eyes follow the undoing of the buttons, core pulsing with every new tattoo or muscle group or section of happy trail revealed, and your own fingers work to slide the cap sleeves of your dress down your arms and push the neckline almost to your stomach. the sun-soaked room isn’t cold, but your nipples harden as soon as they're freed from fabric, out of nothing more than sheer arousal. 

matty moans when he looks at you, big hands immediately brushing over your chest so he can lean over and kiss you - as he does, you wrap your legs around him and do the best you can to grind onto the rock-hard bulge in his trousers. he whines into your mouth, sliding his hands back down your body to clutch at your hips and do some grinding of his own. one particular movement hits your clothed clit, and he groans into you in response to your whimper. “please, please can i fuck you now? need it, my girl, need you so fucking badly.”

“yes,” you whisper, just as desperately. lifting your hips slightly, you move matty's hands to rest on them on the fabric of your underwear. thankfully, he catches on quickly, and pulls them off you, laying them carefully on the chair; you would think the action was endearing if you could think about anything except the way the cool air hits your soaked cunt, reminds you how turned on you are. “come on, matty,” you spread yourself even further open for him, loving his expression of wanton desire. “need you inside me, sweet boy”.

“yeah,” without taking his eyes off you, matty undoes his trousers, pulling them and his boxers down slightly to free his dick. saliva pools in your mouth as you watch him pump it, memories of being both joyfully surprised at the sheer size of it and determined to take it all down your throat last week flooding back - they're completely overridden by the present, though, specifically matty holding himself with one hand and gliding the other down your slit. “jesus christ. can i, you know…?”

you smirk. “can you what? need you to use your words, be a good boy.”

his face goes scarlet. “can i…” he trails off again, breathing shakily.

“matty.”

“fuck, m'sorry, darling, m'sorry - just keep getting distracted by how gorgeous you are,” coming from anyone else, that line would make you scoff, but earnestness practically drips from matty's words. he smiles as you stroke his face, sighing. “right. can i- can i get inside you?”

for the briefest of seconds, you allow your controlled façade to drop, pleading just so he knows how much you want him. “please, angel. need you to fill me up.”

after leaning down for a soft kiss, matty does just that, slowly pushing into you to a soundtrack of quiet gasps from both your lips and his. you're thankful of the slow pace he moves at, probably to keep himself calm - he's so big that you're practically breathless from the time he's half-in, your body rearranging itself just to take him in the most deliciously painful way.

once he's bottomed out, matty stops moving completely, in favour of putting his hands over his face and breathing heavily. you blink, concerned, doing your best to sit up on your elbows without moving too much. “matty, sweetheart,” you coo. “are you alright?”

“mhmm,” comes the muffled response. he drags his hands down his face, smiling shyly at you when you become visible to each other. “just give me a second - s'been a minute since i did this.”

“of course. i like how this feels, anyway,” you reach up to stroke his face, beaming when he nuzzles into you. “and, if i'm honest, i'm kinda upset that you have actually done it before,” you giggle, only half-joking. “wish it was only me, and you were all mine.”

matty smiles. “well, that's kinda true - you're the only person i've ever done it with that's actually mattered.”

your heart flutters again. “sweet boy. how are you feeling?”

“good. i, um, i think i'm ready.”

music to your ears. “okay. fuck me, then, matty.”

“alright. thank you.”

the tenderness of the whispered reply makes you smile, cheeks almost sore from how wide you beam; as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, they widen in another direction, jaw dropping at the feeling. “shit, matty, just like that.”

“yeah?” matty repeats the motion, over and over and over, eyes rolling back in his head as you clench around them. his jaw is slack, curls beginning to stick to his forehead as he fucks you slowly, cheeks pink. you don't know if you've ever seen anything more beautiful - before you can tell him, though, he speaks. “is this good enough for you? what else do you need me to do?”

what a sweetheart he is.

“you're perfect, angel,” you stroke his smiling face, heart leaping when he turns to kiss your palm. “if you want to, you can speed up, yeah? do what makes you feel good. been so sweet of you to learn what i like, i wanna return the favour now.”

he nods, eyes closing as he takes your advice with a throaty groan. whether it's the noise or the faster pace he's fucking you at, you don't quite know, but you whine in response, sliding a hand into his hair and tugging. matty moans again, blinking dazedly at you. “i like that.”

“when it hurts a little bit?”

“mhmm.”

“alright,” you move your other hand under his shirt to clutch at his back, digging your nails lightly into the soft skin and dragging them downwards. “that?”

“fuck,” he whimpers, hips speeding up yet again. you gasp at the feeling, another gush of pleasure starting between your legs; in response, you clench, and matty swears again. “god, you're so wet.”

“all for you, matty,” you lean up to kiss him, a sloppy meeting of lips and tongues interspersed with moans; pulling back to breathe, you whisper into him. “tell me what else you like.”

he kisses you again, still pounding into you - somewhere deep in the recesses of your pleasure-addled brain, you thank all that's holy for the editors’ interior design decision to buy extremely sturdy desks and not have them against any walls. “i like you.”

“yeah?” you smile, moaning at a particularly good thrust. “you like - fuck - you like the way it feels inside me, inside this pretty pussy?”

“yeah.”

“i like it, too, feeling you inside me,” you kiss his neck, licking up over his jaw and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear. “does it feel good, fucking my tight little cunt? never had anyone as big as you, sweetheart, fucking love it. you've got me fucking dripping.”

“feels so good, so fucking good,” comes the breathy reply. “perfect girl, perfect pussy. wanna - shit, oh my god - stay inside you forever.”

matty's hips are faltering ever so slightly, the rhythm dropping a sign that he's reaching the finish line. you decide to help him get there, gently sucking a mark into his neck and murmuring into the sweaty skin. “you can cum there, if you like.”

the whine he lets out is almost enough to make you cum. “is that alright with you?”

“of course,” you press a little kiss to his cheek. “want you to fill me up, angel. been such a good boy for me, you deserve it.”

“thank you,” matty leans round to kiss you properly. “please can i get you off, too?” wanna touch you, make you feel good.”

“you remember what i showed you?”

he nods, shifting weight onto one arm and waving his thumb at you. giggling, you take it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the pad before releasing it with a pop and speaking. “fast, but not too firm, alright?”

“yeah,” watching you intently, matty leans back to look down intently between your legs, bringing his thumb to the juncture between them. it takes him a couple of swipes to find what he's looking for, but your body jerks so obviously when he touches your clit that it's obvious he's made his discovery. still fucking you a bit haphazardly - in a good way, mind you - he rubs tight little circles onto the bundle of nerves, just the way you like it. “that good for you, darling?”

the pleasure from the double stimulation is so overwhelming you can barely speak, clouding your brain and tightening both your vocal chords and your cunt; it's matty's whine at the latter that triggers a response from you, a matching wanton moan that by some miracle forms itself into a phrase. “yes, god, don't stop.”

“m‘kay,” matty's eyelids are drooping above you, but he smiles enthusiastically. “feel like i'm dreaming.”

“oh, my sweet boy,” you pull him down for a kiss, grinning against him at the whimper that escapes him when you bite his lower lip. “see? this is real.”

he giggles, gently kissing you in a way that's at total odds with how intensely he's fucking you. “i'm getting close, sweetheart. are you…?”

“yeah,” you aren't lying, either - pleasure is really starting to fizz up in your stomach, making your legs shake as they're wrapped around matty. “keep doing what you're doing, angel, keep being my good boy.”

the praise spurs matty on, keeps him fucking into you determinedly even as he crumbles completely above you. “oh, fuck,” he moans, skin slapping against yours as he chases release for both of you. his thumb stays circling your clit, bubbles of ecstasy rushing through your body every time he does - you're definitely getting close, pleasure building up to breaking point in your stomach more and more by the millisecond, and your heavy eyes and shaking body make that obvious to the perfect man above you. he kisses your nose. “you're close, too, aren't you?”

“mhmm,” you clutch him even tighter, desperate to keep him like this, keep him making you both feel good. “you gonna make me cum?”

“fuck, yes.”

and he does. how he staves off his own orgasm, you have no idea, but matty's dead-set on getting you off before he can; he fucks you through shaking legs, working your clit as well as if he'd been doing it for years and not days, forehead pressed to yours in such an intimate way that you could cry if you thought about it for too long. he looks fucked above you, but so fucking beautiful - when the pleasure inside you cracks and surges out into the rest of your body, sending wails of his name out of your lips, you're not quite sure if it's just because of the sex, or if there's another emotion or two behind it adding to how good you feel.

but you don't have time to dwell on that, though, before matty's whimpering about his own climax against your lips. “m'gonna cum, oh my god, shit, sweetheart, m'gonna cum, please, please let me cum.”

“good boy, my perfect boy,” you're still spacey after cumming yourself, but the hand still in matty's hair is tethering you somewhat. “cum for me, matty. fill me up.”

with perhaps the single sexiest noise you've ever heard, matty does just that, burying his head in the crook of your neck while he finishes, hot and deep, inside you. “oh, thank you,” he whispers into your skin, panting bodies still clinging together as you come down from your high. “jesus christ.”

“did you like that?”

matty laughs, leaning back to look at you. “that's an understatement, darling. it was perfect,” he strokes your sticky cheek, looking tenderly at you. “you're perfect.”

“back at you, sweet boy,” you kiss his nose, then his lips - a sweet kiss, nothing like the sloppy mid-sex makeouts you just had. “thank you for being so keen to make me feel good.”

matty shrugs, bashful. “i like that bit most of all.”

“oh, he’s cute!”

“i try,” he giggles. with a final kiss to your nose, he leans back. “am i alright to, like, pull out now?”

“of course,” you sit up on your elbows as he does, wincing at the sensation (and lowkey mourning the loss of him inside you). matty crouches to look at his cum dripping out of you, face so awestruck you can't help but giggle. “good view?”

he blushes, smiling shyly up at you. “the best,” carefully, he brings two fingers to your core, gathering up most of the white liquid and looking at it in wonder; his gaze then shifts to you, cheeky. “i mean, you're kinda clean now.”

you roll your eyes, but smile. “c'mere,” when he obliges, you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking the cum from them and swallowing with a satisfied hum. “look at that - both clean!”

“oh, that was underhanded,” matty kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth before he pulls back. “but you're so beautiful that i'll let you get away with it.”

you swing your legs happily, pulling your dress back up over your chest. “thanks, angel.”

“m'serious, by the way,” matty reaches for the tissue box on the opposite desk and then your discarded underwear, crouching again to wipe you clean and slide the fabric up your legs. “most beautiful girl in the world.”

“your girl.”

he hums happily, cleaning himself off and tucking himself back into his boxers, leaning down to kiss you while he zips up his trousers. “mine, all mine. now, let me just,” he lifts you up and sets you on another desk, wiping the one you just vacated as best he can with a dry tissue. you bite your lip to keep from laughing at how endearing he is, and smile sweetly at him when he turns back around; that soon turns into a shriek when he scoops you up bridal-style. “right. let's go home.”

***

“are you sure i didn't leak onto the seat there?” you walk backwards up the hall towards your flat, looking at matty. “i was so panicked the whole drive.”

he rolls his eyes. “sweetheart, for the millionth time, there's no cum on the passenger seat. not that i'd have minded if you ruined my car like that, though. s'kinda hot.”

“you kinky little bitch,” you snort, unlocking the door and stepping inside; the scrambling of tiny paws across wooden floors becomes audible as soon as you do. “and speaking of little bitches…”

“don't call her that!”

“oh, stop it, i'm being literal - hi, maggie!” you crouch as your border collie puppy comes into view, bounding towards you excitedly - annoyingly, she passes you without so much as a lick hello, and goes straight to matty. “oh, for god's sake.”

he laughs, letting her lick all over his face before scooping her up like a baby and cooing at her. “maggie-moo! did you miss me? yeah, course you did. more than you missed your mum?”

“matthew.”

“sorry, darling,” he wanders over to kiss your head, kicking the door shut behind him. “i still can't believe you waited until we started dating to tell me you had the cutest puppy of all time. imperative information, that.”

“still pulled you without her, didn't i?” you quip, wandering down the hall to dump your and matty's bags on your bed, the two Ms in tow. “and you only think she's the cutest because she's sweet to you. she's a total terror, otherwise,” you pet maggie's little head. “i think she might've inherited that from me.”

matty giggles. “well, i'll take you both being sweet to me. yes, mags, i will!” he scratches her under the chin, and her little eyes close as she stretches; within seconds, she’s fast asleep, and he awws. “i'll put her down in the living room.”

“thank you, angel,” you kiss maggie's head, then matty's, and wander into your bedroom to get changed.

matty follows behind a minute later. “i can take her out later before we go to bed… oh my god, darling, i'm so sorry for bursting in on you like that,” he goes bright red when he sees you're only in your panties. “i can wait a second, let me just-”

you cut him off with a giggle, walking to him and kissing his nose. “you literally creampied me not even an hour ago, and you're flustered by walking in on me changing? god, you're so cute.”

“oh, shush,” matty hides his face in your hair, wrapping his arms around you. “i've forgotten what i was going to say now.”

“sorry, angel,” you stroke his hair. “while you think, do you want to have a shower with me? and then we can order some food?”

“really?” his voice is full of wonder. “yeah, i’d like that. thank you.”

your heart glows. you take his hand and lead him next door to the bathroom, turning the shower on and adjusting the temperature as you speak. “no need to thank me, matty. just doing my girlfriend duties, you know.”

there’s silence for a second. then you realise what you said, and panic sets in - your blood runs ice-cold, and you turn to an undressing matty with a horrified gasp. “i am so sorry, matty, i don’t know why i-”

“darling, it’s alright,” matty steps out of his trousers and kisses your head. “i’d quite like to refer to you with that title too, if i'm honest. and, you know,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “if you want to call me your boyfriend… i'd be very honoured.”

he's so adorable that you have to genuinely hold back a scream. so you merely beam at him, and kiss his hand. “follow me. we can start your designated boyfriend role of washing my back for me right now.”

in complete contrast to the desperate, fast-paced sex of earlier, your first shower with your boyfriend (!!) is languid, romantic, saccharine-sweet. well, there are several deep kisses, and both yours and matty's hands do linger on parts of each other's bodies that may be considered impolite by some, but there's no real lust behind it - none more so than usual, that is - just a curiosity, a fascination, and a want to hold each other as tight as possible. that easy comfort around each other lingers the whole night, through ordering and eating pizza, curled up on the sofa watching the young ones while maggie does her utmost to get the discarded crusts for herself; through sharing a cigarette in the communal garden while the puppy does her business and runs around to tire herself out; through brushing your hair at the vanity in your bedroom before you go to sleep, matty sprawled on the bed and watching you with adoring interest while maggie sleeps on her bed under the window.

while you're putting your hair into its bedtime braids, he wanders over to the record player in your room, looking at the empty sleeve on the table next to it before lifting the lid and peering at the disc. “melodrama? i haven't heard this in ages.”

you turn in your chair, smiling. “but you know it?”

“of course.”

“good,” you walk to matty, kissing the back of his neck. “it's maybe possibly my favourite album of all time.”

“really?” he turns in your hold, resting his elbows on your shoulders. “tell me about it.”

“okay. better get comfy,” you tug him to your bed, climbing in and flicking the bedside lamp off; your boyfriend climbs in too, face illuminated by the faint moonlight peeking through the thin curtains. “you know that it's set over the course of one night, right? at a house party?”

“is it?” even in the low light, you can see matty's brow furrow. “but it's so… far-reaching, i would say, emotionally.”

“yeah, it is, the house party is just a narrative framework to focalise it, i s'pose,” you yawn. “and i don't know if she’s ever confirmed it, but i think all the fadeouts on the album have a purpose - they all seem like they're a means of marking the end of a step in the relationship cycle she's singing about. like, the one at the end of the louvre is the end of the ‘rush at the beginning’ she sings about, because then the album goes into liability and hard feelings/loveless, so the heartbreak section, and there's a fade out at the end of loveless, too. you get me?”

“i get you, darling,” the smile in his voice is audible.

“cool. all in all, there are five stages to the cycle, and it repeats between green light and sober; so, the first song on the album is chronologically last in breakup terms,” you rub your eyes. “which is kinda genius, because then the house party framework is really clear. like, you start the night by going out, but you also end your healing journey by doing the same thing, getting back out there and all that. it's so amazing. and the songs are all good,” a beat passes, then you giggle. “sorry for just rambling on about melodrama right before we go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“nah, i loved it. makes a nice change to be the one listening, for once,” matty laughs breathily, stroking stray hairs from your face. “i like listening to you talk like that - like it when you do anything, really.”

“back at you,” you lean in to kiss him softly, sliding your arms around him. “i'm really happy you're my boyfriend, by the way.”

“so am i, darling,” matty yawns, nuzzling his head into your chest. “shall we get some sleep?”

“sounds good. what are our plans for tomorrow?”

“oh, yeah, that's what i forgot i was gonna say earlier,” he tilts his head to look at you, eyes heavy with sleep. “we could maybe take maggie for a walk at the park near my house, if you like, and i could make us some dinner afterwards.”

“will you make me soup?”

matty laughs, kissing your bare skin. “of course i will. whatever you want.”

“alright,” you smile, going back in for yet another kiss. “it's a date. goodnight, angel.”

“night, sweetheart. see you in my dreams.”

[imfinereallyy]

Shared Kisses

for @steddie-week I’m behind on it but I couldn’t resist day 3, and it’s a little late because I fell asleep while writing it, that's how sleep deprived I am haha. prompt: first kiss

“Okay, okay! It's my turn now. Sir Steven, Lady Birdie, tell me, who was your first kiss?” Eddie giggles from his spot on the carpet. He smells like stale menthols and pine; Steve can’t get enough of it. He has to resist from leaning his head into Eddie and taking a breath of him.

Steve is starting to believe he needs his head checked. Again. Wanting to smell one of his friend's necks isn't normal.

Steve is also starting to realize that maybe that is because he wants to be more than friends. God, he is such a loser sometimes.

“Oh, this is unfair! You know the rules state that we can’t ask it back now. Boooo.” Robin chants from her place on the couch, where she hangs upside down. Steve is for once glad they aren’t playing a drinking game; he is sure Robin would have vomited by now otherwise.

“I still think this a weird game to be playing.” Steve dodges the question and nudges Eddie with his knee.

“C’mon Harrington, questions is an absolute solid getting-to-know-you game.” Eddie nudged his knee back.

“Dude we’ve been friends for six months.”

“Yes but there are so many layers I have yet to peel.”

Robin grunts from her upside-down position, Steve can tell all the blood has finally rushed to her head, and she tumbles onto the ground next to them. “Gotta agree with Metal Man here, Steve-o. I’ve known you even longer, and I still don’t know everything. And we are practically connected.

Steve blows air from his lips, “So this is just a ploy to expose all my secrets.”

Steve can tell that Robin, who might as well share a soul with him at this point, can sense how uncomfortable he is beginning to feel. Her teasing softens for a moment. “What if I went first, yeah?”

Steve pauses, “Yeah okay.”

“You got to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Of course, Robs.”

“I make no such promises.” Eddie interrupts but ultimately cuts the tension in the room. Steve kind of feels like it is on purpose, by the way his eyes skim Steve carefully, and the way Robin lets out a loud snort.

“Wasn’t talking to you doofus. I don’t actually respect your opinion of me.”

“Hey!” Eddie protests, but they all know he isn’t really offended.

Robin chuckles lightly, but continues. “It was in middle school, at one of my first girl-boy parties; gross, right? I hate that we called it those. Anyway. They decide to play spin the bottle, and I feel pressure because my only friend at the time is Barb, and she didn’t come and Colleen Walsh is doing it, and she—well, she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in school at the time and I’d be an idiot not to follow along. So we’re playing Spin the Bottle, right? And rounds go by, and it doesn’t land on me, and I’m grateful but Colleen notices. She goads me on to do it, take a spin since it isn’t fair I haven’t kissed anyone. So, wanting to get over being the center of attention, I reach over and spin it, and it lands on—“

“Wait.” Steve stops Robin, realizing she is about to out herself to Eddie on Steve’s behalf. He doesn’t want her to do that but on anything but her own terms. “Are you sure about this, Robs?”

Robin throws her head back and laughs, “Yea, I’m sure dingus. No need to worry. Anyway, you’ll never believe who it lands on.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, “C’mon buck don’t leave us hanging.”

“Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie and Steve both start choking on air while Steve screams, “What!?!”

Eddie collapses on the ground with a dramatic groan, covering his face with his hands and mumbling, “why cruel world?” Robin giggles at his antics.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t….?” Steve trails off, hoping Robin gets the hint.

“That it wasn’t a girl? No dingus, just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean all my experiences are with women. Besides, I was 12; I didn’t realize staring at Colleen’s boobs wasn’t jealousy.”

“Oh, thank god, you know; I thought I was going to have to break the news to you that your gayer than the men’s locker room after a winning game,” Eddie mumbles behind his hands still on the ground.

“Only you would make a sports reference in relation to gayness, Eds. Also, wait, you knew she was lesbian? How did you know? Why are you freaking out then?” Steve rapid fires questions.

Still covered with his hands, “Like seeks like, Harrington. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, “You’re gay?” He says hopefully.

Eddie finally removes his hands from his face but doesn’t sit up. “Yea, Stevie, thought you knew, honestly. Not like it’s a secret, all of Hawkins talks about it.”

“I try not to listen to the rumor mill.”

A soft smile graces Eddie’s face, “One of the many things I love about you sweetheart.”

Steve tries not to blush, but ultimately fails. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re freaking out about Tommy. Sure, he sucks, but like I reacted that way cause I was friends with him at some point. What’s you’re excuse?”

Finally Eddie sits up with a groan. “Okay, promise not to laugh or freak out?”

Robin and Steve both nod and mumble a little “yea of course”.

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, “Okay, I freaked out because even though it’s not my turn to answer and I don’t have to, well—it’s because. Okay, I’m stalling; it’s because Tommy Hagan was also my first kiss. When I was 15, under the bleachers.”

Robin and Steve are both silent, Eddie looks at them expectantly. “Are you guys going to say anything?”

Robin speaks up first, “I think this is the closest we can get to not freaking out.”

“I think I would prefer that over the freaky twin silence.”

Steve still stays quiet while Robin proceeds to react, “Oh my god Munson! This is the funniest and freakiest thing ever. And not in a freak way you like! This is magnificent, oh my god….” Robin continues to cackle and make fun of Eddie, but Steve tunes it out. He can feel all the blood rush to his ears, blocking out all the sound from the room. Tommy. Tommy. He has kissed both of his best friends, one of which he wants to kiss himself. That just seems unfair to Steve. It hurts Steve, and he doesn’t know why. Actually, he knows precisely why.

“My first kiss was when I was 13,” Steve says abruptly, not making eye contact. The both of them stop their bickering and turn to Steve. They stay silent, as if they know Steve needs it to get through it. He is thankful for them both.

“I was 13, and my parents weren’t home. It had become the usual at this point, but I was sad because it was my birthday, and this was the first birthday they didn’t even send a card. And Tommy decided to come over to cheer me up; this was back, I guess, when he still cared too. And we didn’t do much; I didn’t like to make a big fuss about my birthday even then, but it was a nice night out just before the break of summer. So we decided to stargaze on the roof. And I don’t know how it happened, but one second we’re trying to find the Little Dipper, and the next, Tommy is kissing me. It was nice, honestly. To have someone you care about show you affection. And when he pulled away, I smiled at him, but he just stared. And then—“ Steve swallows thickly before looking up at Eddie and Robin, who both look at him with rapt attention.

“Then his face turns angry, and he punches me. He punches me so hard that I almost fall off the roof. He tells me not to be a queer, and if I told anyone, who would tell everyone what I was. And it seemed unfair, right? Because he kissed me, I only smiled. I haven’t kissed a boy since.”

Suddenly there is an arm around his shoulder, “Stevie….” Eddie tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck, and Steve begins to sob.

Robin quietly gets up, “I’m going to make us some tea.” Steve knows she can sense that he needs a moment with Eddie. Steve loves her more than life.

“I’m sorry this is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Eddie rubs soft circles on his back, “It’s not stupid, honey. He hurt you in more ways than one, and traumatized you from exploring yourself. You have every right to be upset. Thank you for telling us. You didn’t—you didn’t have to. You could have lied, or told us your first kiss with a girl.—“

“Colleen Walsh.” Steve interrupts into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Of course it was. Anyway, Steve, thank you for sharing. I’m glad you feel safe with us.”

Steve’s tears are no longer. “I always feel safe with you, Eds.” And the Steve finally does the thing he’s been wanting to do all night. He takes a big sniff of Eddie. Steve doesn’t care if it’s weird because he settles a sort of calm in him.

Eddie grips his waist tight, and puts a finger under Steve’s chin, pulling his face close to his own. “Yea, I do? Does that mean you also trust me?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. He knows it’s probably not good how quickly his mood has changed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The air between them is electric, and intense. Steve can feel it make his whole body come alive. “Of course I do.”

Eddie leans even closer, “Good. Because I think it’s a damn shame a pretty boy like you hasn’t kissed another boy since.” Then Eddie presses their lips together.

Steve isn’t sure if someone were to ask what his first kiss with Eddie was like if he would be able to answer. It’s indescribable; it’s perfect. But if he is to try, it would be this, soft, slow, deep, and oh so very good. Steve can feel the heat from Eddie’s lips pulsing into his own. Eddie’s hands' grip Steve’s face, angling him deeper as he slides his tongue into his mouth. Steve pulls him closer by his t-shirt. Going crazy off the taste of salt and chocolate that now swipes his tongue.

They both pull back a little breathlessly, hands still gripping each other. They lean their foreheads together, and Steve smiles. He smiles so big his face hurts. And Eddie does the most thing in return,

He smiles back.

The moment is broken, though, when Robin enters the room again with a bowl of popcorn and a loud “Oh thank god, I was sick of the pining. From both of you.”

Eddie sputters while Steve just laughs at her. “I thought you were making tea Birdie?”

Robin sits down next to them again, “Too much work and I was snacky.”

Steve throws popcorn at her head but isn’t upset at all. He leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head.

Robin smiles fondly at them. Then her face scrunches up in pain, “Wait, all of our first kisses was Tommy Hagan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“God I do not want to give that twerp any more credit in life than I have to. Why are we all like this?”

Steve giggles while Eddie shrugs.

Robin can’t keep a straight face anymore and falls into laughter. “Wait, does this mean we are all bounded by this? I completely unrelated, non-upside down experience?”

Eddie speaks up before Steve, “I believe so, Lady Buckley. A trauma outside of other worlds binds us. We have been bound since before the slain of Vecna.”

Robin shrieks, “Awee, guys! We were always meant to meet then.”

Then Robin tackles the both of them to the ground in a bear hug. Steve’s not even mad that she’s in the middle of Eddie and him.

Because this, right here, is all the love he’ll ever need.

***

I'm behind on steddie week, but I want to throw my hat in the ring. Have a written a first kiss thing before? Yes I have. But I can’t resist. Thank for the read, love this community so much.

[minarisplaything]

The Producer: Late Night Sessions ft. Kwon Eunbi

It was late at night, far past the typical clocking out hours, when you finally shut down your computer and prepared to leave the office. It wasn’t unique to be working this late into the night, particularly in this industry, but that didn’t make it any easier. Despite your best efforts to keep things manageable you always seemed to find yourself staying longer than intended. While others were out enjoying drinks and unwinding on a Friday night; you were getting ready to head home and get some much needed sleep.  Not exactly ideal but with the debut product well underway, there was little time to rest. With a tired yawn you got up, gathered your things, and left the office, certain to shut-off the light as you did so.

Given the hour, the last thing you expected to hear was music playing as you descended the stairs. You stopped, poked your head in on the second floor and the music grew louder coming from the direction of the practice room. As you rounded the corner you could see the bright lights from the room still on, further verification that someone was still in there. 

“Huh,” you muttered to yourself. 

You knew there were more than a handful of diligent workers among the trainees but at this hour? Unable to contain your curiosity you ventured towards the practice room door. Why you felt the need to be quiet was anyone's guess. Maybe it was the sense of feeling like you were intruding on someone's personal time. Whatever the reason, you found yourself peering through the door to see who was the hardworking member this late at night. 

Through the door window was none other than Kwon Eunbi; the eldest member of the trainees. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, doning a t-shirt and sweatpants as she practiced her routine in the wall-sized mirror. Her shirt was drenched with sweat, clinging to her body and her sizeable chest in particular. You remembreed Jessica telling you that the girls had recently begun practicing a new routine. It seemed Eunbi wanted to get it down perfectly even at the cost of her sleep.

Even if a part of you wanted to chastise her about being at it this late, you couldn't help but smile when thinking about her dedication. You put your plans to leave on hold and went over to the vending machine to grab a bottle of water. Leaning against the wall, you waited until she had finished her the song to make yourself known, startling the older girl when the door suddenly opened.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to surprise you," you chuckled. "I was just on my way out and I was surprised to see you here. Care for a break?" You held up the bottle of water as an offering and apology. 

"Oh. Thank you, Producer," Eunbi gave a nod of appreciation, moving to sit in the corner where she had placed her things and you followed suit. 

Her body was still drenched in sweat, her bangs clinging to her forehead while the rest of her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. 

"You know you’ve impressed me enough as it is, you should be catching up on your sleep,” you said as you handed her the bottle of water.

It was true most, if not all of the trainees had impressed you. Among the dancers, Eunbi certainly stood out. She also had a number of intangibles you had noticed, even if she was too modest to admit it. The other girls followed her example, they listened when she spoke. You hesitated to think about assigning a leader before everything was finalized, but those qualities certainly made Eunbi a strong contender.

She gave a light chuckle as she nodded, "Thank you for saying that. But more practice never hurts. I know some of the girls have left a…strong impression." 

On it’s surface that was an innocent statement to make. But the side glance Eunbi gave you coupled with the knowledge of just exactly how some of the other girls had been making strong impressions caused your cheeks to tinge with a hint of red. Did she know about some of the things that had transpired? You had witnessed the others confide in her; had they confided that much as well?

“Even still,” you cleared your throat, averting your gaze as you did so, “I’ve seen you dance. You’re one of our best.”

"Sometimes talent isn't enough” Eunbi chuckled drylyl. This time you didn’t get the sense that she was trying to make some kind of innuendo. You glanced over at her to see that Eunbi’s gaze had grown distant and couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her mind in that moment. 

"Jessica mentioned you’re one of our longest tenured trainee..." you started, approaching the topic cautiously. "I suppose you know more than most what it takes to debut." 

Eunbi was quiet in response, merely nodding before she spoke, "I was at some other companies as a trainee before I came here. But time kept passing and there were never any plans for a debut. All the girls I came up with as a trainee were gone or made their own debuts. Eventually I thought that I'd have to give up my dream or go somewhere else too," she paused, "When Jessica-unnie offered me a place here I thought it was my final chance. But as time passed…" 

She trailed off. Her story wasn’t wholly unique and you briefly wondered how many of your other trainees had similar storise. How many viewed this as their last chance to fulfill their dream? Suddenly, and not for the first time, you felt the weight of responsibility crushing down upon you. Before you could get too lost in your own thoughts, Eunbi spoke up again.

“But then you showed up,” she turned to look at you, “And everything’s changed.”

That felt like an understatement. 

“You’re giving me too much credit.”

Eunbi shook her head, her ponytail shaking slightly. You hadn’t noticed it at first but she had shifted closer and her voice had gotten softer. You were suddenly aware of her plump lips, of the sweat still dripping down her forehead, of her large breasts pressing against your arm. 

“Eunbi…” 

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to move or react. Before you could speak another word, the dancer closed the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips against yours. It was hard to describe the kiss, a mix of passionate and desperate. Searing even as she leaned into you. Your brain malfunctioned only for a moment before you began to kiss her back.

Her tongue running over your bottom lip as she arched her body into yours. Without hesitation you opened your mouth, your tongues dancing together in an erotic kiss. This was different then your run-ins with some of the other girls. But rather than question it, you surrendered yourself completely to the embrace. 

It seemed you weren’t the only one giving yourself over to the moment. In a flash, Eunbi had shifted from her position beside you on the floor and moved to sit herself in your lap. Her large breast pressed against your chest as her arms looped around your neck. All the while, her lips remained attacked to yours. Despite the professional side of your brain telling you this was a terrible idea; your more base instincts begged you to give in further. 

Fortunately, the moment you felt Eunbi grind her hips against your lap, the decision was made for you. 

You moaned against her mouth, her own lips tugging into a grin at the sound of them. Your hands reached up, somewhat predictably, and pawed at her round mounds. Even behind a shirt her globes filled your palms and then some. As much as you’d like to say you never noticed their size before, well, that’d just be a bold faced lie.

Eunbi moaned, arching her chest into your touch as she pulled finally back from the kiss, “I knew you’d go for them first.”

“Can you blame me?” you replied, guilty as charged.

You remembered overhearing a conversation once between Chaewon, Yunjin, and Jiwon; each of the three girls commenting how their bust didn’t match up to that of the older girl. Now, as her breast spilled out of your palm, you couldn’t help but agree with them. Eunbi leaned forward, stealing another kiss as you fondled her chest, her breathing growing heavy as she continued to rock back and forth on your lap.

“No, but I think you deserve more,” Eunbi said as she pulled back.

Reaching for the hem of her shirt she pulled it over her head, revealing a grey bra barely continuing her mounds. There was a moment when you merely admired the sight before you but a moment was all it lasted. A second later your hands were on her breasts again, yanking the bra cups down to expose her erect nipples to your touch. 

”Did you think about this often?” she breathed out, her voice husky as her forehead pressed to yours. 

Your response died on your tongue, completely lost in the act of fondling Eunbi’s tits. Admiring the way they filled each hand and the sounds she would make when your finger teased over her hard nipple. You were quite literally left speechless, so you did the only thing you could think of. You leaned forward, taking her newly exposed breast into your mouth. Eagerly your tongue swirled around hardened nipple, suckling while your hand continued to tease the unattended one.

“Ah! I take that as a yes,” Eunbi moaned, her voice breathy and a grin on her features. 

Her fingers tangled in your short hair, keeping your head close as you continued your ministrations. Her hips began to rock on your lap, grinding back and forth over your growing erection. However impulsive the first kiss had been, it was clear that she had no intention of stopping what had come after. And from the way your face was buried in her tits, it was more than obvious that you weren’t either. There was a time when you had more shame. When you might head the professional warning in your head. But as more time passed, and more run-ins with the girls happened, that voice was getting quieter and quieter.

“Saerom and I had a debate whether you were an ass or tits man,” Eunbi said, chuckling, “I think I have the answer now.”

Had they discussed this? Who would get you to give in first. Which asset would be the one to make you crave? Is that why Saerom had worn those tight gym shorts today? You’d have to remember to revisit the topic of them discussing your sexual preference at a later date. For now you came off her breast with a pop, saliva trailing from your mouth, and turned to take her unattended one into your mouth. The dancer moaned, arching her chest into your mouth as her grinding hips began to move faster against you. 

“Producer! Fuck!” 

Anyone could walk in on the two of you. They could see the oldest trainee grinding on top of you as you suckled at her breast. They’d hear her moaning shamelessly, her head thrown back as she clutched your head. Yet that didn’t cause you to cease your actions, if anything  it only encouraged you more. Visions of Saerom walking in, seeing that she had lost the bet between her and Eunbi, and deciding to join the display filled your mind and caused your cock to ache. 

“Shit!”

Suddenly Eunbi cried out, her sounds of pleasure echoing in the practice room as she shuddered atop you. Her sudden orgasm rocked her body. She clutched your head close to her bosom. ,It was all you could do to keep your mouth on her breast, savoring the taste of her skin, as she rocked her hips on your lap. When she finally came down, the older girl pulled away from you with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I got a little too excited there," she sighed breathlessly. “I’ve never…from only sucking on my tits I’ve never had that happen.”

“It was my pleasure,” you replied, having finally pulled your mouth off of her.

Despite the erection in your pants, you were still in a bit of a daze. A pleasant one as opposed to feeling denied or blueballed. As much as you wanted nothing more than to free your cock and stuff it inside of the dancer in that moment, you felt like  you shouldn’t push your luck any further than you had already. 

“We should – we should probably clean up. It’s late,” you said.

Eunbi nodded, despite the fact she was still seated in your lap and had a lustful gaze in her eyes. Something told you this wouldn’t be the last run in the two of you shared. Not if she had anything to say about it.

A/N: so another one-shot into the future. i am working on the main chaptered series as well but these episodic one-shots are just good for the muse. also after waterbomb i just had to. hope you guys enjoyed!

[j0hnj4ej3n]

08:02 p.m.

note: was being so delusional after mark came onto bubble & then did an instagram live to spend mark o'clock with us, and after declaring that he misses us and wants us to know AAAAAAKKK he's so crazy for that!!!! this man has me soooo delusional. so i thought of this little something because he looks so gorgeous today and i've been really busy these few weeks due to submissions~~ hope yall enjoy <3

(not proofread, i wrote this impulsively in less than an hour)

mark: are we still meeting to study at the cafe after your lecture tmr? y/n: yes! my lecture ends at 730~ mark: alright, i’ll wait for you so we can walk to the cafe tgt?  y/n: okayy sounds good

That was the texts you had with Mark last night. And as promised, once your lecture was done, Mark was already outside your lecture hall waiting for you. 

To be very honest, the two of you haven’t been friends for very long, having only met through a writing class last semester. But two weeks ago, you bumped into Mark at this newly opened 24-hour cafe just off campus. 

It’s crunch time now that finals are around the corner so the library is always packed. And the corner seat you love so much on the third floor is always occupied by this one freshman and his group of friends. So you were hoping this cafe was new and quiet enough to be your place to study for this time of the semester. 

When you got there, you found Mark, nose deep in his lecture notes studying with his wired earphones plugged in. You decided to greet him merely out of being polite, since you haven’t seen him around recently. But Mark seemed excited to see you and even invited you to study with him.

So here you two are again, routinely studying your Tuesday (and Friday) nights away together since that fateful day two weeks ago. 

Well, at least Mark is studying. 

To be fair, you’ve always found Mark cute. Since he asked if he could share your table in class last semester, you took note of how attractive your classmate is. His round, starry eyes and high cheekbones. His sweet smile that appears oh, so often. Better yet, he has one of the cutest and most contagious laughters you’ve ever heard. But you never took it as anything too serious. Mark has always been cute, but you didn’t really know the guy outside of class. 

These two weeks however, have made you acutely aware of how wonderful Mark really is as a person. He was diligent and intelligent, yet so humble about it all, refusing to slack just because he’s already getting good grades. Mark is attentive, if he notices you struggling, he takes the initiative to ask if you need help. And doesn’t mock you or make you feel small for not understanding something. 

He’s also just really sweet. You firmly believe Mark could befriend anyone and everyone. There’s just something about him that makes those around him feel comfortable. Like, you don’t have to put up a front when you’re with Mark because he won’t judge you. Instead he embraces all of you and is genuinely interested in everything you say, even if he has differing opinions. 

Being around Mark is easy. And the longer you stare at him, the more you realise that Mark isn’t just cute. He’s gorgeous. 

And you hate to admit it to yourself, but you’re definitely falling for Mark Lee. 

“Hello? Earth to y/n…?” 

You can only bring yourself to blink back at Mark, who’s waving his hand in front of your face. Have you been staring at him all this time? 

“Oh, I’m sorry… were you saying something?” 

Mark chuckles, shaking his head. He looks down almost shyly, then lifts his head up to look at you again. 

“You’ve just been staring at me for a while, I was starting to wonder if I had something on my face.”

You want the ground to swallow you up. To be honest, you have not been getting any revision done tonight because the only real studying you’ve been doing is of Mark’s pretty face. And it’s embarrassing because he caught you. 

You can’t help but feel the embarrassment creep up on you, feeling the blood rush to your head. You cover your face with your hands and all Mark does is let out a quiet laugh. He really isn’t laughing at you though, he simply thinks you’re really endearing.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to stare.” You pause, thinking of an excuse as you lift your head, “The lecture really butchered my brain, I was just daydreaming for a bit.”

“It’s okay, you just seemed so happily deep in thought. It was kinda cute,” Mark says, so casually as he returns his attention back to his notes, you almost miss his subtle compliment at the end. Did he just call you cute?  

He looks up at you again, smiling sweetly. “We don’t have to stay too late tonight if you’re tired.”

You shake your head, “It’s fine, I’m good now.” 

You really are not, because your heart is thumping so loudly against your chest over a simple smile from Mark. And your mind doesn’t focus on anything that isn’t Mark. But if you pretend well enough, if you control your urge to just stare at Mark for way too long… maybe you’ll get to spend a few more hours alone with Mark right here in this cosy, quiet cafe.

[secretgamergirl]

It is absolutely ridiculous that I have no way to contact people I care about in 2023.

So I got up today, and saw a big announcement about a certain particularly large company in the games industry did an absolutely massive round of layoffs despite an amazingly good year. You know, as they do. As it so happens, this is a company that, last I checked, employs several people I consider to be pretty good friends, and I feel compelled to toss them a quick message asking if that affected them, ask if poke around on their behalf for freelance work or slap a project of my own real quick they can collaborate on, or whatever.

And it's suddenly sinking in to me that I can't actually do that.

Tabletop game work is writing work, and that means 90% of the networking for most of the past decade or so happened over Twitter. Someone announces they're working on a thing, you message them, e-mails get traded to formally send stuff around. I was on there until I wasn't, so normally, that'd be where I'd be doing my checking in. But that of course is off the table. And like, I don't even have read-access to the site to check if anyone's announcing anything there.

Well, we've traded e-mails, right? We absolutely have. Back when everyone I'm worried about was at this other company, which let this same pile of people I care about and then some go several years ago now. So... those e-mails are no longer valid.

Well, what else is there? Oh right, the one friend has a discord server. It's been super dead for years now since he stopped doing the big weekly social thing it was there for, but it's still - oh, no. It's actually closed out. Same with the one for this freelance artist in that same general orbit... and oh Discord redid usernames and forced everyone to pick new ones. Damn.

Well, there's tumblr here, maybe? Like, there isn't really practically any direct messaging on here but... no, no wait, none of them have posted anything on here since bad policies drove a bunch of people out years back.

There's Facebook? But no, I don't have an account, they're all real legal name focused, and for personal security reasons, I never actually use my legal name anywhere even if I could make one (see, they also insist my name "sounds fake" over at Facebook). Well surely I can just find people's personal websites and send an e-mail but... no, people just don't have personal e-mails anymore, and spam got so bad decades ago now that I can't remember the last time I saw ANYONE post a personal e-mail address anywhere visible. Used to be phonebooks, but I don't think they really adapted to everyone just having a cellphone, and even if they did, they're a local thing.

So yeah. I've got nothing here. Uh... on the off chance anyone's reading this who I'm concerned about, hey, I hope you're OK? I'm still at least periodically checking the e-mails you last used to send things to me? Feel free to reach out and let me know how things are going?

But yeah this just sucks.

[enhafilthandfiction]

enhypen hyung line reacting when you get needy while they're playing games on their computer, so you straddle on their lap (and possibly grinding on them immediately :p) ??

You getting needy when Hyung Line are gaming </3

A/N : Hello! I rly enjoyed writing this, thanku for requesting anon! Ngl, i felt horny re-reading Jake's scenario lmaoo. Happy reading!

Pairing : Bf!HyungLine X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Reader is needy/horny, tittes, kissing, making out, boners, grinding, mentions of fucking, thigh riding, fingering, cockwarming, Hoon is a little mean, degrading names, oral (m.receiving), simp rant in Jake's (which is why it is longer).

Word Count : 1,690 Words (about 425 words each)

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung « The one that's just as needy as you so he gives up on playing and just fucks you

Bored out of your mind, you go up to your boyfriend's room only to find him sadly glued to his stupid game. He barely even acknowledges you, eyes squinted as his fingers move over the joystick.

You pout and move closer to him, but he still doesn't take his eyes off the screen. You decide to take matters into your own hands, walking over to his gaming chair and sliding under his arms until you're in his lap.

He jumps when he feels you on him, your view suddenly blocking his screen. "Oh hi baby" he smiles up at you, leaning up to give you a small kiss. You kiss him back, grinding your needy hips down on him.

He notices in an instant, realising that you must be horny and he furrows his eyebrows. "Just one last game okay?" he asks you with a small smile, making you roll you eyes but nod.

You let him play another round but it takes too long, every time his hands which were around your waist squeeze you a little too much or his tongue darts out to lick his lips in concentration, you find yourself squeezing your thighs together helplessly.

"Please Hee" you beg when it gets too much, but he doesn't seem to hear you, the sound of gunshots filling his headset. As soon as his character is on cool down (?) you gently grasp one of his hands and bring it up to you chest, making him feel your braless tits. "Fuckkk" he groans at how soft your tit feels in his large palms, his cock already twitching in his pants.

You grind on his growing bulge at his groans, wanting some relief. He mutes his mic and leans up to kiss you, his hands letting go of the controller to slide under your shirt, feeling your tits. His tongue enters your mouth and with the game long forgotten, you two start making out.

He can hear his friends yell at him from the headset but he shrugs. "You know what, fuck this" he says, taking off the headset and turning off the game despite his bandmate's complains.

He wraps his hands around your waist and lifts you up, gently throwing you on his bed as he starts removing your clothes. "Gonna fuck you so well baby" he promises "That's what good girls get for being patient"

» Park Jay « The one that won't give up on his game just like that, so instead he lets you use his body to get some relief

"Jayy" you whine for the millionth time "I need you".

He's been telling you to wait for the longest time now, being too addicted to this new game. All you could do was roll around on his bed and try to not touch yourself at the sight of his skilled fingers moving smoothly along the keyboard, wishing they were inside you.

Your panties were practically soaked and you couldn't take it anymore. You got up and walked over to his chair, climbing on his lap. You slid one side of his headphones back, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. "Jay, I'm so wet for you" you practically moaned, kissing the side of his neck.

"I've promised them I'll play baby, they'll never let me live it down if I break my promise" he explains with a pout, referring to his playful bandmates who acted like children sometimes. "Here" he placed his hands on your waist, moving you so that you were partly straddling him, you core right on his firm thigh.

You got the message and started grinding against his muscular thigh, your hands on his shoulder for support. He goes back to his game but checks up on you sometimes.

"That's it baby, there we go" he grips your hips helping you move until the new game starts. You close your eyes in pleasure, letting him guide your hips harder on him.

You clench around nothing as your clothed clit brushed against his flexed thigh, the pressure of your body feeling too good. He kisses the side of your neck praising you some more until you cum in your panties. "I'll take proper care of you when I'm done, princess".

» Sim Jake « The one who's just as needy but still loves his stupid game too much so he ends up making you cock-warm him

You couldn't help but admire his side profile and wonder how perfect his nose is for grinding against it as you ride his face.

You couldn't help but watch as he bit his plush lips proudly when he won a though game, wondering how good they would feel kissing your neck or wrapped around your clit, sucking softly.

You couldn't help but observe his hands and the way he held the controller, thumbs circling the joystick just like they circle your nipples or your clit. You watch his prominent veins as he grips the controller harder, wishing his hands were griping your neck instead.

You couldn't help but listen to his little mumbles in that sexy Australian accent of his, remembering how deeper his voice gets when he's whispering all the filthy things he wants to do to you.

You squeeze your thighs together as your face heats up thinking of all these things. You're suddenly feeling very (very, very) needy and horny for him and his thick cock. So, you make your way over to his gaming chair, hopping on him and hugging him close to you.

As he continues mindlessly playing, you take a deep whiff of his expensive cologne as it fills your nostrils. Fuck, he even smelled good. "Jakeyy" you start off, voice muffled in his hoodie. "Want you" you admit shyly, hoping that he heard you.

"Hm? Is my baby feeling needy?" he teases, looking up at you softly. You nod your head, looking at the ground as your cheeks heat up. "Aww baby, you're so cute"

One of his hands slides down your body to your heat, rubbing soft circles to your clothed core as you squirm on top of him. "Take these off for me baby" he orders, referring to your panties, not quite paying attention to his game anymore.

You hastily slide them off your hips and lift one leg at a time to remove them, straddling him again once they're off. "Good girl, now spread your legs a little wider" his hands grip your inner thigh, parting your thighs a little more. "Yeah, just like that"

His rough fingers make their way to your clit again, rubbing quick circles as you moan out and squirm on his lap. He thanks god that he's not playing online with his friends, cause they would've heard you for sure.

When he notices that you're wet enough to take him, he lifts his hips up, sliding down his sweats along with his underwear to his ankles. He positions his cock at your entrance, making you whine out when he rubs his head along your clit. "Now listen to me baby, you're not going to move until I tell you to, kay?" he warns, making you pout "I still have a game to finish"

You slide down on his cock and sigh out in pleasure, gripping his shoulders. His breath hitches as he grabs the controller again and resumes his game. You bury your face in his neck and try not to clench around him too much or he won't let you cum. The longer you hold back, the more you wish his stupid game was over.

» Park Sunghoon « The one who tells you to shut up because his friends will hear you, but when you don't, he ends up shutting you up with his cock

"Hoonieee" you whine again and he lets out another sigh.

"Gosh baby, you're so needy" he says rolling his eyes. You knew he was just teasing you, loving how desperate you were for his cock. "Can you at least quiet down? You don't want my friends to hear what a desperate slut you are now, do you?" he asks with a muted mic.

Before you can say anything you see him unmute his mic, making you roll your eyes as he focuses back on the game and pretty much ignores you.

Sometimes he was difficult like this, taking his teasing a little too far. You were envious of his self control, until you realised that he had a prominent boner; he wasn't as chill as he thought he was.

You wanted revenge. If he didn't want his friends hearing you, they were going to hear him. You grinded down, purposely right on his hard on, making him let out a chocked moan as he looks at you with wide eyes, soon giving you a dark stare, warning you.

You did it again, even let your hands wander down to his crotch, gently palming and squeezing him. "That's it" you see him mute his mic again as he takes off his headset. "Get on your knees now or your punishment gets worse" he said with a stern look.

You plastered a victorious smile on your face, taking your time to get down on the floor in front of him and opening your mouth before he even told you to. His dick twitched at the sight of you knelt before him with your mouth wide open, ready for him.

He led his cock towards your mouth, placing it on your tongue like some sort of pacifier. "Yeah, just like that, suck." he ordered, shutting you up and going back to his game. You sucked on his tip, then tried to fit him all in your mouth, stroking what you couldn't fit in.

If you weren't lying, you weren't bored anymore, his precum and soft sounds being satisfying enough for you. Once he was done playing and turned off his game, he gently held your face, his hips thrusting into your mouth, fucking your face. Not long after, he came in your mouth, being already stimulated from before. Without him even telling you, you swallowed all of his release, making him smile proudly.

"Good fucking girl, you earned a reward"

Hellooo, thanks for reading to the bottom, I hope you enjoyed it! This might be the last post I'm posting for now, but i'll be back soon dw :) Have a great day/night and remember that ily <333

If you enjoyed reading this post, you can support my blog by tipping me here! Anything is really appreciated :)

[vroomvroomcircuit]

A never-ending Worry

(A/N): Ikea gave me a big anxiety attack the other day. Here we are now.

Summary: Reader discovers her own anxiety together with Max through several instances.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎 _____________________ Anxiety is a peculiar thing, especially when you suffer from it. It is for (Y/N) at least.

Ever since her first anxiety attack at the ripe age of 16 years, (Y/n) started to worry. About everything. All the damn time. Her head is running the whole time, thinking about different scenarios that could happen. Like her best friend once said:

“The possibility of a baby killing you is slim, but never zero.”

Maybe the possibilities for any of the “what ifs” really happening is low, but she will be prepared if it does happen. It’s an odd sense of safety she can find refuge in, especially in a world of unpredictability.

This is where the peculiarity comes into play. She does not have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe it all.

But (Y/N) never really talked about her constant worries coupled with a never ending feeling of nervousness. Never spoke of this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone feels like that, right?

“Hey Schatje? How many pairs of underwear have you packed for us?” Max called out for (Y/N) as he unpacked their suitcases, that his girlfriend herself packed for the two a couple of days before the trip even started.

A bit befuddled by his question, (Y/N) walks from the kitchen of the rental apartment, where she just finished putting away the groceries they got from their first run to the supermarket, to the bedroom.

“10 pairs for each of us. Do you think it won’t be enough? We can still go out and get some more tomorrow.” Max halts his movements for a second to check if her serious tone matches her face.

It does.

His girlfriend really means what she said.

“No, they will definitely suffice. You do know that we are here for only four days, right?” Max smiles at her. Maybe she just got something mixed up.

“Yes, of course. I planned our activities. It would be bad if I didn’t know about the length of our vacation.” She laughs to herself while moving to help Max unpacking. “Why are you asking?”

“Oh, nothing particular. Just checking.” Ok so. It is a thing for many women to overpack, especially regarding their underwear. “Can you explain your thoughts on the number to me? Why did you decide to pack 20 pairs of underpants in total?”

(Y/N) throws him a look. “Well, we need at least four, one for each day. Then I doubled that number, because something could have gone wrong on our car ride here or will on our way back, making us stay on vacation longer. Then eight felt like it’s not enough. Adding to the extra days, an accident could happen that makes you need an extra pair a day, right? And nine is an odd number that is not even a prime number, so I rounded up to ten. Completely logical.”

Well, it’s logical to her at least. Max was partially amazed by her train of thoughts and worries. He just let it be like that. After all, it’s just over packing and he loves how prepared she is in any given situation.

Prepared (Y/N) is. Always.

“Man, it is so hot, my fingers are sticky with sweat.” Daniel complaints. It’s a race weekend in Singapore and the Aussie is right. It is hot.

(Y/N), who walks with Daniel around the paddock while she waits for Max to get out of a meeting, starts to rummage in her backpack. The back she carries with her all the time. It’s close to iconic.

“Here is some hand disinfectant. It makes you feel a bit less sticky.”

Daniel smiles thankfully while taking the little bottle from the female’s hands. “Thank you. I just need to remember to put on some lotion, I don’t want my hands to dry out.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, she replaces the disinfectant with another small bottle. “Don’t worry, I got you girl.” She winks at the Aussie.

“Oh wow, do you have everything important with you? Can you flee the country with that backpack spontaneously?” Daniel jokes, but it goes over her head.

“Yes, pretty much. I got a small first aid kit, my laptop and all needed chargers for my electronics. Oh, and my passport and IDs of course. Ah, and some small knick-knacks and snacks. Gotta be prepared for the worst case scenario, right?” Her seriousness unsettles something in the driver. But he kind of lets it go, just nodding to her statement. She is right, at least a bit, after all.

“Do you get more nervous when you get into the car? Or is your level of nervousness on the same level?

(Y/N) and Max cuddle in bed back in the safety of their home in Monaco. While asking the question in the wariness of the night, she traces the same shapes over and over again in her partner’s skin. It gives her an odd feeling of safety, the repetition.

Max has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean?” “Well, does your level of feeling nervous rise from the usual one before or during a race?” It sounds plausible to her. But it doesn’t for him.

Max sits up, leaning his upper body against the headboard to have a better look at his girlfriend. “Yes, it does rise, because my usual level of nervousness is zero like for everyone else. Of course I feel different from that, when I get into the car that can bring me over the finish line as a winner. I don’t get the question.”

(Y/N) blinks at him with a frown. “Not- no, not everyone’s level is zero. It’s really just for you that low.” Of course Max is always cool as a cucumber. He only gets this feeling in extreme situations.

“Oh Schtaje. It’s really not. Most people don’t feel nervous often. Do you?” He pulled her close to him, enveloping her completely.

“Not always. Right now, I’m not. But that is, because I’m with you. I know that together we can solve anything.” Max senses that (Y/N) doesn’t want to continue the conversation. He lets it be another time, partially to not make her feel completely uncomfortable in a peaceful moment, partially because he wants to do some research.

Her conversation with her boyfriend sparked something inside (Y/N). Hearing that not everyone is feeling the same way she does, it’s a lot to take in. So she started to do some reading of her own.

Many people on the internet describe the same moments she has: Constant nervousness, the need of being prepared at all times or she’ll break out in a sweat, plus the endless worrying.

And the sudden bursts of intense panic. These moments, where an all consuming fear grips her whole body into a chokehold. That makes her breaths become heavier and her thoughts even faster.

Reading about similar experiences to hers, it makes (Y/N) feel less alone. But one word stood out to her.

Anxiety.

She heard of it and has seen the portrayals on TV. But those are not what she feels. Or is it?

Everything and nothing make sense at the same time.

“Do you want to drive?” Max offers as they get ready to go out for dinner at a restaurant that is a tad too far away to be considered walkable distance. He regularly lets her drive, it’s a bit of emancipation. Why shouldn’t she drive when she has a license for that?

(Y/N) shakes her head no. “I don’t like today’s thoughts. I also feel extra nervous right now, I couldn’t find the menu of the restaurant online.” Max nods, understanding what kind of thoughts she is talking about - intrusive thoughts.

He also appreciates her openness with him about those feelings. “It’s ok, Schatje. I love driving for you, it’s my favorite kind of ride. We will also find something for you, we can order some dishes and share them until you decide which one you want.” He gives her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, hoping to ease up her worries.

During the drive, she holds his hand on the control stick. “It’s good to have you back. Last night I woke up in a panic and thought something must have happened to you on your flight and that this was the reason I had this huge anxiety attack. I couldn’t sleep until you texted me this morning when you landed at the airport.”

His heart grows heavy at that confession. He hasn’t known the extent of her anxious feelings. Max didn’t know how much they overshadowed her in her daily life.

(Y/N) herself never realized how much she has been hindered in her routines by her own thoughts and worries.

“It wasn’t the first time this happened. But it was the worst it has been so far. I thought you died. I waited for my phone to ring or the police to stand at the door, getting notified that you died in a plane crash. I already planned the next steps I had to take from there in my head.” (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look at her boyfriend after this admission.

It is weird to say something out loud, that she used to bury deep inside of her. This kind of vulnerability, it makes her want to crawl back into that hole again.

Over the last couple of weeks she realized that those spiraling thoughts are not here to make her feel safe. That the need of over preparedness is not necessary. That her anxious feelings are not some signs of something bad.

These thoughts are false friends, waiting for your demise, your downfall, to be able to say “I told you so”.

But where to go from here, from the realization of something going gravely wrong, to getting a grip of the situation. To make it all go away?

Max squeezes her hand before putting a kiss on it without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m here for you. I want to hear all those thoughts. As silly as they may sound out loud. I can help you in differentiating if they are necessary, needed, thoughts or if they are the product of overthinking. I want to help you. I want you to not feel anxious all the time. I want to help you through the anxiety attacks. We can get counseling - for only you or together. Just, let me be here for you during every step you take.”

His pleading brings tears to (Y/N)’s eyes. She didn’t know how noticeable her anxiety issues were to outsiders. She doesn’t know what it feels like for Max, seeing her in her most anxious states.

“Yes”, she answers him, “I want you to be here with me. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.” “You don’t need to find out. I’ll be there, for better or for worse.”

Turns out, Max’ deadpan and brutal honesty is exactly what (Y/N) needs.

The evening, where he was away for a race and she had to stay behind, because of her own work schedule. (Y/N) called him in the middle of a not very pretty anxiety attack. “I have this doctor’s appointment. It’s a check-up for my physical health. And what if I-I’m deathly sick and we are catching onto that only now?”

“This is a dumb thought.”

The female halts in her movements. Is it a dumb thought?

“I mean, yes. I regularly go out to donate blood. But maybe they haven’t caught something important accidentally.”

“That is stupid and unlikely.”

She stops again. “You are right. I actually have nothing to worry about.”

The road to having less anxiety is a twisted one, paved by setbacks and a small gap between succeeding and failing. But with Max as a passenger princess on that path (Y/N) knows she got it.

She will be ok, eventually.

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Welcome To The World, Alex (Request)

Thank you for the request! This fic tells the story of Alex’s birth!

Words: 2,538

Warnings: mentions of angst and anxiety related to birth

You waddled into the nursery, checking in on Travis who was putting the finishing touches on Alex’s crib. You had given him a honey-do list now that you could no longer stand for more than five minutes without back pain, and he took on the domestic role so well. “You’re just cruel.” You narrowed your eyes at your husband, who was standing shirtless, wearing nothing but basketball shorts that sat low on his hips. He chuckled, pulling you into his body, careful of your large bump. He lifted your chin to place a tender kiss on your lips. “I’m ready to go whenever you are, baby.” You gestured at your bump, and incredulous look on her face. “How, Travis?” He placed his hands on your bump, rubbing gently. “I can get creative. I’m thinking we just need a new angle.” He held his hands out, sizing you up. “Very funny, not gonna happen. I’m so uncomfortable, you’re just going to have to wait the eight weeks for that.” You stepped back to admire the shelves that Travis had hung up above the changing table. “They’re crooked, baby.” “You’re lying.” Travis stood next to you, tilting his head to the side.

You winced when you felt a cramp around your pelvis, your back tightening as your knees almost buckled beneath you. Travis grabbed you before you fell to the ground, guiding you to the rocker in the corner. “Are you alright?” He bent down in front of you, rubbing circles on your thighs. You closed your eyes, trying to hold back tears, leaning your head back on the cushion. “I think so.” Your breath hitched when you responded. “Just breathe, baby.” You attempted to take a few deep breaths, but you were overcome with emotion, tears rolling down your face. Travis helped you stand up and usher you to the bedroom, making sure you were tucked in and comfortable before he sat down by your feet. “Talk to me, baby.” You looked up at him, his face riddled with worry. “I’m just scared. The closer we get to my due date, and the more you’re away, I’m just afraid you won’t be here when I need to go to the hospital.” Travis’ phone pinged in his pocket. He stood up, pulling out his phone to read the incoming text message. “What is it?” you sniffled, wiping your nose. “We’ve got a 5am call time for our flight to New Jersey tomorrow.” You felt tears coming on again at the thought of Travis being a plane ride away to get back to you if you needed him, but you held it in. Regardless of the brave face you thought you were putting on your for your husband, he saw right through you. “I’m gonna tell the team I’m not going.” Travis began dialing his coach’s number as you struggled to get up from the bed. “No, Travis. I’ll never forgive myself if you miss this game and then nothing happens.” “I don’t care about the fuckin’ game, Y/N.” You grabbed his hand, “Okay, then do it for me. I want you to go.” You were lying through your teeth, and just hoped the baby could stay snuggled in until Travis got back.

********************

You woke up to the sound of Travis rifling through the kitchen. You checked your phone to see it was only 4:00AM. Resolving that you weren’t going to go back to sleep because of your increasing belly and back pain, you headed downstairs. He was pulling some drinks from the fridge when you rounded the corner. “Hey, good morning.” You rolled your shoulders back, giving Travis a quick peck. “Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” You looked through Travis’ duffle bag on the counter, taking on your role of “school mom” to make sure he had everything he needed. Travis would forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his body. You made a mental checklist of the things that he would need for the road, walking to the pantry to grab some snacks for him to have on the plane. “Do you need another pair of socks? I don’t see your sweatshirt in here. You’re gonna want it for the hotel room. I know you always get cold at night. Travis chuckled, watching you waddle around the kitchen, stuffing his bag with different items. “Y/N, stop, baby.” You stopped in front of him, hands on your hips. “Stop, what?” “You’re nesting me.” You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of his protein bar. “What are you talking about? I’m not nesting you.” Travis stroked your cheek, “How are you feeling? I can still tell them I’m not coming.”

“I’m fine.” You turned your head so he couldn’t see you’re the pain in your face. You had gotten about two hours of sleep, and the aching in your back had only increased as the night went on. You felt very shitty, but you were determined to push through so Travis could focus on his game. You walked up to him, leaning your head on his chest. Travis drew circles on your back, as you closed your eyes, almost falling asleep in his hold. “I’ve got to go.” You whined, not letting go. It took everything in Travis not to call the team right now.

*******************

The game had a 5:00PM kickoff time, so you spent most of the day washing and folding baby clothes and catching up on the phone with your mom. “Do I need to jump on a plane?” You mom had been worried about you for weeks, and while you wanted her to be there for the birth, you had planned on her coming next week. “No, mom, I’m fine.” She grilled you with questions, “Has the baby dropped? Have you had your “bloody show”?” You grimaced at that term. “I don’t even think I know what that means, but I sure hope not. I’ve got to go, the game is about to start.” “Please let me know if anything changes. I’ve got a bag packed ready to go to the airport.” “Thanks mom, love you.” You weren’t able to press end call before Donna’s number flashed on the screen. “Hey Mama, how are you?” You layed down on the couch, turning on the TV to the game, Travis on the screen going through warmups before the game. “Let me guess, Travis called you?” Donna laughed before she responded. “He’s just worried about you. He called me about three times once he landed. Everything okay?” You knew you could trust Donna not to tell Travis anything and you really needed someone’s ear, so you didn’t go crazy. Tears immediately began to build in your lashes, but you wiped them away quickly. “I feel terrible, Donna. My back is hurting, and I have this pain in my lower pelvis that just won’t go away.” “Oh hon, I’m so sorry. I know this is no fun. Have you been in contact with your doctor?” You shook your head, pulling your blanket over your belly. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with him, telling him my symptoms. He said if my contractions are not closer than 10 minutes apart, there’s no reason for me to worry, but I definitely feel contractions, probably about ever 20-30 minutes.”

Donna noted down your timing so she could help you keep track. “Do you want me to come over, I’m only about a 30-minute drive away.” “I appreciate it Donna, but I think I’m okay. I’ve got some tea, and I’m gonna settle in and watch Travis play.” “Ok, I’ll check in with you in about 30 minutes.” You made it through the first half, happy that you made Travis go because he was killing it, the Chiefs up 21-0 going into halftime. Your eyes were beginning to droop, your lack of sleep starting to catch up with you.

*******************

You awoke suddenly to a strong contraction, this one lasting longer than any previous ones, so painful you had to grip the coffee table to steady yourself. You attempted to get up, but you stopped when you felt a wet spot on your leggings. You pulled the blanket back, gasping when you saw that the couch was soaked. Your heart started racing at the shock that your water had broken. As you grabbed your phone you heard the front door unlock. Donna rushed over to you, taking in the sight of you on the couch. “Are you okay?” “Call my mom please”, was all you could think to say in the moment. “I already did, hon. When you didn’t answer my last couple of phone calls, I was worried something was wrong.” She helped you up so you could stand. “We need to go to the hospital immediately. I’m gonna get in touch with Travis.” You shook your head fervently. “Donna, please don’t. I don’t want him to worry about me right now. I need to grab my bag. With you and my mom there, I should be fine.”

******************

Travis had been playing well all night, but his mind was somewhere else. The entire game he had been worried about you, hoping that you were alright. He was sitting on the bench during the next defensive play when Patrick sat down next to him. He took a sip of water, looking at Travis’ worried face. “She’s gonna be fine, man. Y/N is one of the toughest people I know.” Travis rubbed his thighs, wiping the sweat off his brow with a towel. “I know, I just hate that I can’t be there for her. You should have seen her this morning, she wouldn’t stop crying.” His shoulders slumped over, the guilt of leaving you killing him. “Listen man, as soon as this game is over, you’ll be right back on the way to her. I need you to focus now so we can get this win.” “You’re right let’s go”, Travis shrugged the worry off his shoulders, putting his helmet back on. As he was jogging back onto the field, the assistant coach stopped him. “It’s your mom, she’s on the phone.”

Even though Donna knew that you would be upset with her, there was no way she wasn’t going to call Travis. She knew how important you were to him, and he would want to be there for the birth of his son. She paced around the hospital waiting room while she waited to get in touch with her youngest child. “Mom, is Y/N okay?” Travis’ voice came on over the line. “She’s fine baby, but we’re at the hospital. She went into labor.” Travis was going to hang up the phone immediately, but Donna stopped him. “I’m on the way, now.” “How Travis, you’re in another state and in the middle of a game.” “I don’t care. I said I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and jogged over to the assistant coach. “Coach, I have to go. My wife is in labor.” The AC turned around suddenly, his headset falling off his head. “What do we need to do?” Travis started jogging back to the locker room, yelling over his shoulder. “I need a plane in about 30 minutes.” The coach just shook his head, getting on the phone to get the jet ready for him to fly back to KC.

*****************

You hated hospitals. Your nurse could tell you were nervous, so she made conversation to try to calm your nerves. “Are you excited for your baby?” You were babbling, your mind racing as you watched her place the IV in your arm. “Yes, it’s our first baby. We’re naming him Alexander.” The nurse gave you a genuine smile, as she clamped the heart rate monitor on your index finger. “That’s a beautiful name. Is your husband coming?” You breathed through your next contraction, gritting your teeth through the pain. “No, he’s not going to make it in time. He plays football.” You laughed, “he’s actually playing a game right now.” “Do you want me to put it on for you?” The nurse turned the tv to the game, the final minutes of the fourth quarter counting down. “The Chiefs are going to walk away with a big win tonight against the Jet, even without their star player, Number 87, on the field tonight. Travis Kelce left the game in the beginning of the third quarter due to personal reasons, but KC was able to pull it off anyway.” The announcer updated viewers as the game was ending, and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “I just got off the phone with him, he’s on the way now.” You were immediately overcome with emotion, reaching out for Donna’s hand. “Thank you”, you said in between sobs.

Once you received your epidural, you were finally able to relax, your lower half completely numb. Your doctor said you were a few hours away from pushing because you weren’t fully dilated yet, and you hoped Travis would arrive before Alex got here. You mom arrived shortly after you did, and you tried to close your eyes and get some sleep.

You stirred awake to the feeling of someone’s hand on your cheek. The florescent lights blinded you as you looked up to see Travis standing over you. “You made it”, you grumbled out, the pain medicine taking effect. “I told you I would.” He grabbed your hand as he dragged a chair up to your bed, resting his head against your belly. “Alex and I had a deal, he’s not allowed to come before I get here.” You chuckled, your belly moving up and down in sync with your laugh. “Oh really? He’s been quiet, no kicking or anything the last couple of hours. He must be resting up to meet us.” You rubbed Travis’ head, scratching the back of his neck like he loved. Due to Alex’s size, you were going to have a C-section. The doctor came in about an hour later to give you the rundown of how everything would go, prepping Travis so he knew where to stand. You both signed the necessary paperwork, and you were wheeled back to the operating room. Travis was grinning the entire time the nurses dressed him in his gown and gloves. “Excited, daddy?”, the nurse asked him as she handed him a hair net. “I can’t even explain how excited I am.”

*********************

The entire surgery was a blur, and when you headed back to your room, you fell back asleep immediately as Travis watched over you. Alex was taken back to be monitored, so you both had a moment to just be. When you woke up, Travis was holding Alex in his arms, his son about the size of a football. “Careful, baby.” Travis looked at you with a smile before turning back to Alex, who was sound asleep. He walked around the room gingerly, bouncing Alex up and down. “Go back to sleep baby, we’re good.” You took the opportunity, knowing you weren’t going to get much more sleep for the next couple of years. “Welcome to the world little man.” Alex looked up at his dad, grunting as he fell back asleep.