#just so u all know I messaged her and asked her if I was allowed to make another post about her god powers over the fandom

[rarilight]

Broke: hoping I’ll eventually get so many followers that I’ll be able to push my RariTwi shipping agenda

Woke: make sure I’m reblogging and posting during times my dearest pal @punkitt-is-here is online

[toastsnaffler]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[r3starttt]

CEO! ABBY

Ceo! Abby who one day saw you in the office and couldn't stop thinking about you, has she met you before? have you maybe worked more than once with her but she's suddenly realizing you're here?

Or Ceo! Abby who saw you in one of the many fancy places she goes and had to ask for your number to keep in contact with such gorgeous woman!!!!!

Ceo! Abby who whatever scenario she knows you from, had a hard time finding the right way and words to approach to you without looking creepy (as in, don't even look at me I bite) or awkward (as in look at me I have money!)

Ceo! Abby who spoils you ridiculously frequent, for whatever reason. You want something? Just ask!

Ceo! Abby who has the softest spot for you. Who calls you any free time she has just to hear your voice or get some comfort. Who messages you when she gets the chance or she's bored in a meeting just to remind you how much she loves you and how she can't wait for the day to end to just see you and talk and cuddle :(

Ceo! Abby who also, sometimes (a lot) calls you or messages you because she's missing you and your body and your voice and can't help but get ridiculously and humiliatingly wet at the pure thought of you l

Ceo! Abby who sends you pics of her fits in the most delicious angles! Her lap, her hands holding her morning coffee, her hands innocently displayed over her lap. Her braid all messy after a looong day, or her hair loosened if you asked her to do so because yes, this is another way of spoiling her girl.

Ceo! Abby who's all mean and tough with everyone, not allowing any mistake, having assistants for everything and always busy. All that except for you, who gets the special treatment. She's never, ever, busy (only if u ask)

Ceo! Abby who takes you everywhere she goes, pays the most expensive hotels, experiences, all for you and for your hard work of keeping her zen and accompanied even when you don't have to.

Ceo! Abby who has the most gorgeous style ever?!!!?! She always looks so good and smells so good. Not only at work but on her daily life, she's always so pretty!!!

Ceo! Abby who makes sure she isn't the only one looking hot and gorgeous and pretty. Who makes sure you wear the most expensive clothes. Who also knows she has to take advantage of it, buying you clothes she wants to see you wearing whether they are your style or no.

Ceo! Abby who loves having the most rough sex on her desk but is sooo polite and nice at home. She simply can't contain herself and who are you to deny anything she asks!

Ceo! Abby who's definitely wearing a strap under her suits.

Ceo! Abby who loves spreading your lipstick all over your face (her own too duh) your gloss too. And who loves helping you choose the color for your next lipstick precisely because of that

Ceo! Abby who makes sure to leave bruises all over your skin if there's the chance. Who loves you leaving bruises on her because who tf is gonna say anything? they're done if they dare yk?

[luveline]

Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring

thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k

cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits

Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM

Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing. 

You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask. 

"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone. 

"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut." 

"Where are you?" 

If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away. 

"I'm fine," you say into his neck. 

He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past. 

He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to." 

"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly. 

"Not at first." 

"You really won't call the police?" 

"I texted you." 

Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all." 

"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present. 

He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?" 

You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you." 

"You probably get too much business from guys like me." 

You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work." 

He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that  having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough. 

You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers. 

"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself. 

Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for." 

"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car." 

"You hate driving." 

"I'd hate someone robbing you even more." 

"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him. 

You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change. 

"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door. 

"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours." 

"That's not a problem for you?" 

"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–" 

"There are a hundred locksmiths." 

"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh. 

Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces. 

"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you. 

"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–" 

"Why aren't you at work?" 

He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency." 

You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?" 

"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?" 

"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…" 

"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.

You refuse to answer, turning your face from his. 

Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling. 

You're not right, is the thing. 

Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue. 

"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Spencer," you murmur. 

"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to." 

You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach. 

"I'm so stupid," you say. 

He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job. 

"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that." 

"The only person here, maybe." 

"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you." 

You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you." 

"Yes, you do."

Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try. 

He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.  

[alt-vera]

— text me, texas ⁀➷

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joel miller worries that the girl he’s been seeing is holding out on him on purpose. she definitely isn’t.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ text me texas - chris young ❜

warnings: pre!outbreak joel miller. outdoor oral (m!receiving). praise. fond nicknames being used. deep throating. age gap. mdni.

❝ it’s breaking my heart and i’m starting to get the message… c’mon and text me, texas ❞

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JOEL MILLER COULDN’T KEEP HIS EYES OFF OF HIS PHONE.

　Whether he was working, or making breakfast for Sarah, his flip phone was always in his peripheral vision. He didn’t even know if it was intentional anymore.

　It’d been a week since he heard from you. A week since the two of you had gone on a nearly disastrous date. A week since he’d gotten a text from you reading, “Talk 2 U L8er, cowboy”

　Texas and Cowboy. You were the one who started the nicknames, jokingly calling him cowboy when he’d come into the ER for some stitches he’d earned during work. Joel knew he shouldn’t be hitting on the resident more than a decade younger than him patching him up, but he loved the way the corners of your eyes crinkled as he cracked a ludic joke, and the way the tip of your tongue peeked out of the corner of your mouth as you honed in on your work.

　This lead to him asking for your number as you discharged him, and you saying yes for a reason Joel couldn’t figure out. Of course, your residency schedule wouldn’t allow for a date right away, something that wouldn’t happen for another two weeks after your fateful meeting, but it did allow for an abundance of phone calls between the two of you.

　Something that had become so routine for Joel that, with their current absence, had caused him a week of fitful, sleepless nights. Missing his texas that wasn’t really from Texas.

　Even now, as he and Tommy shot the shit sitting on the back of Joel’s shoddy wooden porch, beers in hand and cicadas buzzing a backtrack for their conversation, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the folded black device sitting on the table between them.

　“Maybe she’d finally come to her senses,” Tommy suggested with a shit-eating grin as he took a sip from the glass bottle in his hands. “Realized she could do better than a dirty ol’ contractor.”

　“Don’t talk as if your shit don’t stink,” Joel replied gruffly, calloused hands picking at the peeling label of his beer. “You’re in the exact same boat as i am. How is Ashley, by the way?”

　“Fuckin’ a lawyer,” Tommy replied with a roll of his eyes, a much more forceful sip being taken now. “Hey, maybe that’s why she hasn’t called you. She’s fuckin’ her doctor-supervisor whatever it’s called.”

　“Or maybe she’s been too busy patchin’ up dumbasses like yourself.”

　Your voice cut through the summer air, stunning the two men as they turned around to look at you. You leant against the sliding glass door, tank top wrinkled from being in your locker all day and jean shorts hanging low around your hips. Your hair was wild from being thrown up all day, shining in the setting sun as a six pack hung loosely in your hand.

　“Texas,” Joel said weakly, stunned to see you there.

　“Cowboy, Ranger,” You greeted respectively, smiling as you moved to stand in front of the two as you put the pack on the table. “Glad to know you two still think about me when i’m not around.”

　“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Tommy mumbled, face ruddy from being caught shit-talking. He placed his empty bottle on the table, fishing out a new one from the pack you brought. “I’ll be drinking this one at home, Doc. Thank ya.”

　You gave him a two-fingered salute as he stalked off, taking his chair and popping the cap off your beer. Joel’s mouth hung agape before he snapped to his senses, hand running over his stubbly jaw.

　“Tommy, y’know, he was just bullshittin’,” Joel mumbled, eyes trained on you, looking for any sort of indication that you were pissed. “Y’know I don’t think you’d do something like that.”

　You laughed heartily, which put Joel somewhat at ease. He melted into his chair just a bit, taking a quick swig.

　“I know, cowboy,” You teased the nickname. Your shorts rode up a bit as you shifted, and Joel fought himself not to stare. “My attending’s been up my ass this week, sticking me in the ER til i ran out of ice packs and stitchin’ thread. That’s why i’ve been so M.I.A.”

　Joel ignored your addressing of your silence, instead quirking his lips up into a teasing grin. “Meet any patients as charming as i was?”

　“Nope,” You replied, taking a swig of your own. “No one can beat the one and only Joel Miller.”

　Joel angled his body more towards yours, “Is that why you took it out of your busy schedule to come see me?”

　“Actually,” You said, wrist twirling as you stretched your soreness, “I have tomorrow off, so i thought i’d pay my dear cowboy a visit, seeing as i left him in radio silence for the past week.”

　“Yeah, darlin’, you can’t do that to an ol’ man like me,” Joel sighed, tracing the wood of his chair. He was never good at being vulnerable. “Made me think you were off, i dunno…”

　You picked up where he trailed off. “Fucking my doctor-supervisor whatever?”

　Joel shook his head, crows feet prominent as he squinted. “No, just that maybe… there was someone else.”

　“If you ever can’t call,” He continued, “You can always text me. Even though i don’t know how to text back, you can always… text me, texas.”

　“Well maybe I can make it up to you…”

　A sly smile danced on your lips as you sank from your chair and onto the balmy wood of the porch, crawling between Joel’s already spread legs. Your fingers traced the pattern on his bet buckle, doe eyes moving to stare up at him. “Sarah’s sleeping over at a friend’s house, right?”

　“Yes,” Joel’s voice came out as a broken sigh. His fingers came up to trace your jawline, rough pads leaving tingles on your smooth skin. “Y’know you don’t have to make it up to me, texas.”

　Your head cocked. “But i want to.”

　Those four simple words made Joel practically fall apart at the seams.

　You felt him relax into his chair, which you took as a signal to continue. You delicately palmed him through his tightening jeans, a groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you did so. More confident in your actions now that you knew he was enjoying himself, you unbuckled his belt and jeans, pressing kisses to his clothed member.

　Joel’s fingers danced through your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as you pulled down his boxers, cock springing up against his dark tee to meet the gentle summer breeze. You spit into your hand, stroking him before smoothly taking him into your mouth.

　Joel could stare at you all day, Texas sunset painting your skin with warm hues, your cheeks hallowed as you took him the best you could, hand stroking what you couldn’t. It took everything in him not to bust the moment you got on your knees in front of him.

　“That’s it, darlin’,” He cooed, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as you took him deeper, throat bobbing against him as you tried not to choke. “Just like that.”

　You pulled away for a breath, and he leant down and kissed you. Your palm still stroking the head of his cock as his tongue swirled with yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, the tang of precum mixed with beer.

　You pulled out from the kiss, smiling as you turned your full attention back to his cock, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth as you focused on making him cum, just as it did when you did his sutures.

　Your muscle tickled his slit as you took him once again in your mouth, wrapping around him as you continued to go down. He groaned, large hand putting gentle pressure on the back of your skull as he encouraged you to take him in farther.

　“You can do it, baby. You can take it all.”

　His encouragement spurred you further, nose coming to meet the wiry hairs at his base as he fully went down your throat. You sputtered around him, but he held you in place, hips bucking up into your mouth.

　“Fuck, darlin’, i’m cumming.”

　His warning came out broken as he moaned, hot seed travelling down your throat and leaking out the side of your mouth. You pulled off once he was milked, using your thumb to collect the fluid that escaped, licking it clean.

　You tucked him back into his boxers and laid your cheek on his jean covered thigh, smiling up at him with a lopsided grin as he fondly played with your hair, tucking it behind your ears and massaging your scalp.

　Joel couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, lips curling as he playfully rolled his eyes. “That was one hell of an apology, texas.”

[readychilledwine]

Hellos. Could do something where the reader is azriel mate and they are kidnapped. She sacrifices her wings to save his life. And mention how az is angry that it happened and whatever u think will look good. Thank you.

👀👀👀👀 I, uh, may have a thing for shattering my own heart only to pick up the pieces. So yes. Yes, I can. Hopefully, you enjoy it, and I did it justice, dearest!

Beauty in Pain

Azriel x Illyrian reader

Warnings - not over descriptive mentions of torture and dismemberment, Azriel goes feral, depression, the usual unedited by an outside source.

Word count -2030

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

You were better trained than this. 

That reminder was echoing inside your mind like a war drum, beating senselessly into your thoughts as you were dragged down the barely lit pathway under the temple. You knew no one was coming. Faebane had blocked the mating bond, blocked your ability to call Rhys or Feyre. You'd be lucky if they found you, alive or dead.

It had started a routine mission. Head to the war camps, ask the leader for reports, speak with the females, head home to your mate.

Your mate. The one you prayed had felt the bond grow cold despite the many promises to never shut each other out. The one who'd slaughter every single male involved in this when he found out where you were, who had you, and what they planned to do or will have done.

You didn't fight as they laid you face down on the concrete block in the room. They had planned this, planned how long to keep you on a specific dose of faebane, no food, and no water. Planned the beatings used to weaken you on a cycle. You felt it and flinched as two sets of hands roughly grabbed your left wing. 

You were prepared to be clipped as a form of torture for the information they wanted. You knew it was coming. But as blinding pain left you with no choice but to scream out for your mate, for your brother, for Rhysand, you knew the plan was worse than you had imagined.

But you did not yield. You bared the pain, allowing it to try and break you until the world grew cold and dark.

—-----------

Azriel was pacing Rhysand's office. He had not slept in the 7 long days you had been overdue for, at the very least, a check in, after the missive Rhys and Cassian had received.

They have not started training the females. I will be home or rewrite soon. I promise. The three Illyrian males had trusted you to handle it. They had trusted you would be safe, unharmed, respected. 

And despite every alarm ringing in his heart, mind, and soul, Azriel had not gone to you right away. 

Rhysand's eyes glazed over, his face dropping slowly as he received whatever message he was receiving. He came back to them slowly, moving without speaking as he started grabbing weapons and tossing them to Azriel and Cassian. 

The High Lord's voice was dealthy calm as he finally spoke. "A set of wings, freshly removed, was just found outside of my mother's cabin. There's no signs of (y/n) anywhere in any of the camps the twins searched. The only thing reported to them was in the northernmost camp."

Rhysand breathed deeply. "A female was carried through the camp, unconscious with her head and body covered. That same night the camp heard screams from midnight until early into the morning."

Cassian's breath caught in his throat before he immediately grabbed Rhysand's arm. "Take me there, now." 

"How long ago," Azriel's voice had gone cold and detached. "How long ago did that happen? How long has she been sitting Mother knows where with untreated wounds or dead?"

Rhysand refused to look at Azriel, reaching to grab his brother's hand, before finally whispering. "4 days."

—------------

The rescue had turned into a bloodbath. There was zero question as a panicked shadows all but dragged the three of them to an abandoned temple.

It reeked of her blood, her sweat, her tears. 

It held an almost haunting aura as if the terror and pain of her screams had scarred the ancient stone, marking it to forever echo her agony to anyone walking inside.

Azriel didn't want to ask questions. He didn't want prisoners. He wanted payment in blood. 

He had cut through every single male that appeared in their path before Rhysand and Cassian even had a chance to interfere on his way to the dungeons his shadows were pleading with him to get to quickly. 

And now one last male stood between him and the cell she laid unconscious in. "Move or be moved," Rhysand told him coolly. "I would not push your luck." 

The male stared at a blood soaked Azriel. His shadows were curling over his shoulders like snakes waiting to strike. His wings flared wide in dominance and anger. His 7 siphons glowing. 

The young male moved, allowing Rhysand to grab him and winnow him away to the Prison before Azriel could beat him to death as well. Cassian moved quickly to the door, opening it with the key they had found, before entering the small cell containing his sister.

The anguished sob that left Cassian was the only confirmation Azriel needed. "Y/n," he heard Cassian tapping your body. "Come on, sis. Wake up."

Dying. Azriel's shadows confirmed. Infections. We cannot safely winnow her. Rhys is bringing a healing team. Need more space. 

Azriel moved into the cell, holding the scream in his throat as he was overwhelmed with the urge to run to you. Cassian had you cradled into his chest, rocking you back and forth before looking up at Azriel, eyes rimmed with tears. "We need to get her somewhere that Madja can use to work on her. Rhys is bringing her and a team of healers here." Azriel held his arms out, a silent demand in the movement. 

Cassian only nodded. Standing and carefully transferring your beaten and bleeding body into Azriel's arms, following him out of the room.

—---------------

3 long weeks of silence had passed in the House of Wind. 

No one had gone to Azriel's room.

No one had spoken to him without the male lashing out.

There was nothing they could do to comfort him but allow him to be with you.

When you first got home, while you were lying unconscious with Madja, Helion, and Lucien looking after you, Rhys had managed to get out of the male Azriel allowed to live one very simple thing. 

You let them torture you, let them completely take your wings, to force you to look into death's eyes, and you had allowed them to do it to protect Azriel. You had refused to give them his schedule to visit the camps. You refused to tell them when he'd be there alone again. You refused to tell them which pathway he flew in using or where he'd shadow-walk himself to first.

You had lost your wings to protect him. Your husband, your mate.

Azriel had lost it then, guilt eating away at him, and began beating the male to death with his bare fists as Cassian and Rhysand just watched. They knew what was echoing in his mind. She will live, Madja had said, but she will never be the same. Her wings can't be reattached or saved, no one has the ability to give her back what was taken.

You hadn't spoken to Azriel, Rhys, or Cassian when you finally woke up. You only sat in your window, staring at the sky. 

The one you'd never feel going through your hair again. The one you'd never touch again. The one you'd never taste again.

It was funny, you thought to yourself, to have been protected and trained to ensure this never happened, only for the moment it did to come 500 long years later. 

It had been a full week later when Azriel cornered you in the shower and just held your naked body for you two to speak. Another week passed before you allowed him to kiss you and hold you without him having to force the contact. You had yet to show interest in leaving the bedroom the two of you shared. 

You felt familiar scarred hands on your bare shoulders, wrapping around to your collarbones before running up the front of your neck and tilting your head back. "Dinner alone tonight or dinner with our family?" His voice was scratched from the crying you two had been doing. His eyes were swollen and red. "I already know the answer, I just need to verbally hear it."

"I wish to be alone." He nodded. Taking the cue and leaving you to your window as he sat back on the couch, head falling into his hands, as he began to cry again.

You watched his shoulders shaking, listened to his almost silenced sniffling. You knew things had forever changed in your relationship. 

There would be no more missions for you.

No more trips with Amren away from him.

No more walking Velaris alone.

There would be no more date nights spent flying.

No more jumping from high places together, allowing yourselves to fall until the last possible second, only to spread those precious wings.

There'd be no more wing play late into the early mornings, edging each other with small touches in certain places until you were both begging for relief.

But you knew deep down, more than anything, there would be a new Azriel. One that would have one more thing to hold against himself. One that would have one more moment of his life to look back on and use as an argument for how he wasn't enough.

And you couldn't have that. You would not stand for it.

You couldn't have the broken male you had spent time healing with, growing with, and struggling with. You could not have the one who blamed himself for every little thing again.

You stood on slightly unstable feet, and walked to your closet, a shadow trailing you. Rhys had immediately replaced your clothing, ensuring you would not have to go through ordering it yourself, and had the twins place the new materials into your closet. A simple black dress was what you picked. It would stop right above your knees, hug your torso beautifully. You closed the closet door, calling for Rhys silently in your mind and jumping as his hands appeared behind you. "I need help." You whispered. 

His eyes searched yours before nodding and helping you change into the dress. Allowing you to use him to balance. A kiss was placed on the back of your head as he laced it up. Gentle, but full of emotion. And he winnowed away. 

You left the closet, walking to Azriel on the couch slowly with a pair of his trousers and a black button-up shirt in hand. "I changed my mind. I'm craving that cake, the almond one with the vanilla frosting."

Azriel scoffed lightly. "I am not leaving you to go get cake. I will ask Rhysand-"

"I need you to fly me there, Az. I want to go get the cake, eat it at the Cafe with coffee, and then I want you to take me for a walk on the Sindra. And maybe go to that book store. The used book one."

He was silent before looking at you. His hazel eyes were full of question. "Y/n-"

"If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake, and I want my husband to take me to get it."

"I don't think you understand how heartbreaking not being able to truly fly is going to be, my heart."

You only repeated yourself, voice smaller this time. "If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake." You paused, eyes welling with tears. "I deserve cake and coffee. If I want cake and coffee for dinner, I expect my mate, the male who married me and bound himself to me, to take me."

Azriel nodded. Grabbing the clothing from you and he changed in silence. He stood on the balcony waiting as you took calming breaths and walked outside for the first time in many weeks.

"I am not responsible for the setback in your mental health after this." 

"No, but you are monetarily responsible for my cake and purchases. Let's go." He took you in his arms, holding you close to his chest and took off hard. 

And in that moment, you both knew something new had begun. You were laughing as he concentrated way more than usual to fly. You were smiling at how this allowed you to feel his body heat, to hear his heartbeat, to touch his face. 

You were laughing at how he began genuinely laughing at you. Not understanding where the sudden joy filling the bond and over flowing it like a faucet set to run for too long came from.

It wasn't until he paused in the sky, hovering so he could look down at your smiling face did you both realize something.

Losing your wings was just the beginning. 

[osaemu]

SHARING IS (NOT) CARING: PROFESSOR!DAZAI

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he has to teach your class for the day, but there's no way either of you will be able to focus with you sitting in the front row.

contents: fem!reader. college AU. professor x student. not proofread and written in under five minutes. i forgot how to write dazai, whoops. i'll probably write more in this AU later on bc i think it has potential. -1K words.

professor!dazai is well aware that he shouldn't be romantically involved with a student, but justifies it to himself by reasoning that you're not in his class, so it should be okay. even though your university's policy allows teacher-student relationships if they aren't in the same field, he still tries to keep it mostly a secret—after all, he wouldn't want to risk anything on your part.

but one day, your professor's absent, and luckily (or not), dazai's the only one available to step in for the day. imagine his surprise when he realizes that the class he hesitantly agreed to sub for today was your class, and as luck would have it, you sit in the front row.

"alright, class, i don't really know what you're supposed to be doing, but—"

"there should be an outline on the desk, sir," the girl next to you pipes up, smiling bashfully at dazai. he pauses and nods at her gratefully, doing his best to not make eye contact with you as he skims over the outline. you're equally as unsure as he is, because you never expected to be in this situation: with your boyfriend as your actual professor, even if it was just for a day.

"oh, great, i have to give a lecture," dazai grumbles, holding the papers in the same hand that's also holding a cup of steaming hot coffee. he sighs, eyes professionally surveying the room before finally settling on you. "would you mind giving me a quick summary of whatever you're supposed to be learning today?" he asks, hiding his little smile behind the cup of coffee he presses to his lips.

you nod, but right before you open your mouth, the girl next to you speaks up again. "i can do it, professor," she offers, beaming at dazai as if she's the personification of joy and happiness. and it's almost comical, the way dazai barely spares her a glance before returning his attention to you.

so you give him a brief summary of what your actual professor had said your class would be covering today, and dazai nods along, eyes focused intently on the outline in his hand. when you finish speaking, he stays quiet for another second before shrugging and sitting down at the teacher's desk. "i'll just find a video on it, 'cause i don't know enough to teach the subject. and honestly, i don't want to, either."

as expected.

twenty minutes go by with some youtuber's monotone voice droning on in the background, but instead of studiously taking notes (like you should be doing), you find yourself staring at dazai instead. his eyes are fixed on his phone, and it's a mystery to everyone in the room as to what he's doing. it's only when you pick up your own phone to check the time do you see a bunch of missed messages from him:

osamu: this class is so boring

osamu: how do u sit through this every. day.

osamu: i'm already falling asleep wtf

osamu: babe answer me :(

osamu: do you hate me :( if not answer me :(

you bite your lip in a futile effort to hide the smile that's threatening to grow on your lips, which would be suspicious, considering that there's practically nothing to smile about in this dull lecture hall.

you: shut up i'm trying to focus

dazai shoots you a subtle grin from his spot up front and replies quickly enough to make you wonder if all this time, he's just been staring at your name on his phone.

osamu: ik you're not paying attention

osamu: play me in 8 ball

you: no

"you in the front," dazai calls from his desk, clearly directing his voice towards you. he raises an eyebrow coyly, and continues, "shouldn't you be taking notes?"

the girl next to you snickers, not seeming to catch the look you give her. dazai clears his throat and looks at you pointedly, obviously trying not to show his amusement.

"okay," you mutter, shooting dazai a vicious death glare. he winks back at you, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what was that?" he asks in response, pretending not to have heard you. it's embarrassingly obvious that he's just messing with you, and you wonder why you ever agreed to date this man in the first place—of course he'd pull something like this the one day he gets to have authority over you.

"yes, professor," you say with a witheringly forced smile. dazai's smile turns uncertain as he dips his head in reply and instantly picks up his phone.

osamu: i'm sorry pls don't make me sleep on the couch

you: i won't :)

you: you'll be out on the porch tonight :)

osamu: wait no

osamu: i love u

osamu: pls don't do this to me ilysm

"hey," the girl next to you whispers, drawing your attention away from your phone and to her uncomfortably close voice. "isn't professor dazai hot?"

she's not a quiet whisperer, and something about dazai's forcibly calm expression makes you certain that he can hear every word. "i guess," you answer noncommittally. hopefully, your tone doesn't betray how close you are to clawing out your eyes.

"do you think he's single?"

"no. and even if he was, i doubt you'd be his type," you reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. dazai coughs into his arm, obviously trying to hide the laugh he had just choked out. the girl's eye twitches, and you hold your smile until she rolls her eyes and looks away.

osamu: ur so funny i'll kms

you: ur still sleeping on the porch.

osamu: babe :(

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: can u guys tell im not working rn with the amount uploading! also currently working on ch 4! if you guys have any ideas feel free to send me stuff!! i <3 vampire!reader and wanna write more about her :3... also sorry if pacing is weird lol

ch 3

warnings: SMUT!!! fingering, erotic blood drinking, angst lol, prob like cussing lol, im sure there is more so just be warned in general, mdni lol

previous -- next

~~~~~

The proposition weighed heavily on your mind. A chance to return where it all started? You couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to ask Logan what he thought. He always knew what to say. You couldn’t dwell on it now, another task was at hand. You smoothed out your denim skirt for the millionth time and stared at your reflection. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. Nothing seemed right when it came to talking about your past. Two hundred and seventy-five years old and this was most nerve racking thing you’ve ever done.

talk in front of teenagers. 

Sighing you turned back to your closest when the door of your room slowly opened.

“y/n? Are you ready yet? My class is waiting” Storm entered your room. “Damn you look good! Honestly expected a full Bela Lugosi get up.”

“Very funny, but I am not a vampire.” You said, turning to her. 

“Okay yeah, and I don’t control the weather.” She snickered at you. She held out her hand and you grabbed it tightly, allowing yourself to be pulled through the halls of the mansion as the two of you giggled and talked friday night plans. 

The two of you reached her classroom and it seemed fuller than normal. You glanced around the room and noticed Logan standing near one of the walls closer to where you’d be presenting. You shot him a smile smile and he nodded back at you, causing your heart to race. You approached the desk at the front of the room and took a deep breath in. You could not only hear your heart pumping, but also every single person in that room. 

Turning around you smiled at everyone and sat sheepishly on the desk. You felt Logan’s eyes on you as you listened to Storm start her lecture. You glanced towards him and watched as he sent you a silent message.

You’ll be okay bub. I’m right here.

You turned back to the class and scanned the crowd. It seemed as though every single person was there, even though it was physically impossible. Your eyes zeroed in on Scott and Alex. Alex. Your mind wandered back to what Charles asked of you the previous night.

“I know you don’t do missions since the incident, but you could really benefit Alex.”

“I dedicated my life to medicine, and helping others. I cannot just leave that.”

“Just think about it okay? Its London afterall. Don’t think I don’t know about what the two of you did there”

You quickly glanced away and turned your full attention back to Storm. She was just about finished with her recap of the lesson plan. Her eyes met yours and she winked down at you. 

“Now that we have finished Dracula, I thought as a treat instead of a movie, we could hear about the real events from the person who inspired the book herself. This is y/n, your school nurse.” A small round of applause broke out as you stood up from the desk.

“Hi everyone! So yes I inspired Dracula, so please ask me any questions.” Immediately questions rang out towards you. Are you a vampire? How come you don’t sparkle? I thought vampires drink blood!

Typical questions that you usually got from new students that visited your office. You quickly answered them without even thinking about it. Alex raised his hand jokingly before asking you the question you dreaded the most.

“How exactly did you inspire the book?” You paused, silently remembering the events of the night. You felt a knot in your throat before you began.

“In 1895, I met Bram Stoker in a pub. He was strange but endearing. A flirt really, and I knew I was done for. In 1896 I confessed to him my mutation and how at that point I was twenty-five for fifty years at that point. He didn’t believe me of course and when I showed him my true nature, the book was born.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “The dedication was for me, and one of the brides had my name at the time and my description. I left Ireland and headed for London after the town found out about it. That’s actually where I met Logan.” 

The rest of the class period was full of laughter and more questions about your life in general, but you easily avoided those. As your presentation ended, you thanked Storm for the chance she gave you and promised to get drinks in the future. She walked away from you as Logan approached, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Good job bub. I knew you could do it.” You pushed his arm jokingly as the two of you started to walk out of the room, as Alex walked up to the two of you. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened.

“To my ever lasting beauty, an ageless angel, my queen of the dark. A book for your life. Wow you really made an impression on this dude. I didn’t realize you only dated what? Tall, dark and handsome. I’ll dye my hair ya know”

“Watch it Alex” Logan muttered, his claws starting to breach his knuckles.

“Woah big guy, I am just teasin. Anyways, y/n I heard the professor talked to you about Europe. What did ya think?” You made a face as you heard Logan’s blood race faster.

“I’m not too sure yet. I am still thinking about everything.” He nodded at your words before wishing you well and ignoring Logan. The two of you watched him walk away. 

“What the hell is he talking about?” Logan looked down at you, his face mixing into anger and confusion. 

“Lets go to my room okay?”

___

“What the hell do you mean a mission to London? And with him!” Logan snarled at you. You stared him down, not afraid of what he would do to you. 

“Calm down Logan! Its not a big deal I haven’t even decided yet!”

“Yeah I’m deciding for you. NO” He paced the left side of the bed as he muttered to himself.

“You don’t control me! I am my own person and I can’t die! Why don’t you trust me?” You felt your fangs push downwards in anger. If you weren’t careful you weren’t sure what would happen. 

“I don’t trust him. You won’t go and thats final.” His claws started to extend as he turned towards you. Fuck it.

The two of you lunged at each other and embraced as a tangle of limbs. Your lips crashed onto every piece of skin it met before you finally met his lips. He held you close to his chest and he messily made out with you, somehow managing to rip off your shirt, leaving in just the skirt and bra. His breath reeked of alcohol and his cologne filled your nose. The tobacco residue from an earlier cigar danced on his tongue as you deepened the kiss. You turned to straddle his lap, you pushed him down on the bed and, without thinking, you leaned down and sunk your fangs into his neck.

The warmth of his blood entered your mouth and the taste was euphoric. You continued your frenzy as you started to grind down on his growing erection. He groaned and panted as you nuzzled deeper into his vein. Your hot breath created a layer of pleasure to the holes in his neck and you pushed down harder on his clothed cock. 

“Please, fuck, don’t stop.” He choked out, moaning the last word. You didn’t think you could if you even wanted too. The taste of his blood made you whine in his ears as you picked up the pace of your hips, desperate for friction. His hand snaked down to your pussy, fingers slipping into your underwear and onto your clit. Your fangs sunk in deeper as he rubbed circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He picked up the pace making you squeal from pleasure.

“Pl-ee-se-” You couldn’t think. The friction, his fingers, his blood. Without warning, you came hard on his fingers, allowing yourself to get lost in the heat of the moment.

Eyes half lidded you removed your fang from his neck and you looked down at the mess created. Blood stained the sheets, pillows, his shirt, and most likely everything else on the bed. Your mouth and neck was covered in a sheer layer of his blood. 

You snapped back to reality and realized what you had done. 

“Logan I’m- I can’t. I have to go.” Quickly you threw on a random shirt and left as quickly as you came, leaving Logan in the mess.

His neck already healing, his lifted his pants to stare at the mess left. Cuming in his pants was so middle school, but it wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Before being forced into the weapon x program, you fed on him regularly. Back then, your insatiable bloodlust wasn��t controlled, and he loved it. 

Trapped in the trance of euphoria, he didn’t realize you had gone. Slowly succumbing to sleep, Logan wouldn’t realize until the morning that you had gone. He ran through the mansion praying you’d still be in the confines of the walls. It was too late when he finally reached you. 

Watching as you left with Alex Summers to a mission to Europe. 

~~~~~

tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble

an: omg the drama!! also thank yall so much for ur support :3

[nyarumie]

yahoo~ can i get a uh big m narumi shamelessly pining over the second division's vice captain? 🤤 like i think it would be funny to read narumi repeatedly asking reader to just transfer to the first during meetings so he'll be able to admire her better and at the same time he's like dissing jura everytime he does it would be funny i think

Summary: With the nation's safety at risk, joint trainings are expected across Divisions. Narumi Gen, as the Captain of the First Divison, aims to make his very own division grow in strength—only by pestering you, the Second Division's Vice Captain, to transfer to their Division, of course.

Author's Reply: We have very little info about Jura's personality (except her being kinda temperal, I think?) so it was a bit of a struggle writing her interactions with Narumi 😭

Author's Note: I'll be taking a short break from writing oneshots so I can continue writing my Brains to Brawn Narumi series—but requests are open! I'll get back to them after writing Chapter 3.

Requests and messages are welcome on my ask box! Please view my navigation too ♡ Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

For the third round of joint exercises, the Second Division is expected to host Officers from both the First and Third Division. As Jura Igarashi's second-in-command, you are tasked to oversee the training held in your base, taking into consideration the fighting styles honed by each participating division. That said, the meeting for the third round of joint exercises was supposed to start roughly 30 minutes ago, if it weren't for the commotion just outside the conference room.

"Let me in! I SAID LET ME IN! Do you not know who I am?!"

Everyone who can hear the commotion sighed, knowing all too well whose voice and antics it belonged to.

"S-sir, protocol says that only verified attendees have permission to enter—"

"Are you saying I'm not allowed inside?!? I'm the Captain of THE strongest Division, y'know! Hasegawa, my Vice Captain, is inside! It doesn't make sense that his Captain is off-limits here!!"

You looked at Hasegawa, who was seating across from you; raising your eyebrow as if to silently say, 'What are you gonna do with him?'

He only shook his head in defeat, knowing that Captain Narumi won't stop 'til he gets what he wants. Sighing, you stood up, deciding to deal with this yourself.

Narumi was still making a fuss by the time you opened the door, the two officers guarding it moving to the side to give you a proper salute. He was already on his knees, still muttering his pleas, unaware that you had stepped out to deal with him.

Sighing again, you knelt to meet his level. Waving your hand in front of him, you said, "...Captain, are you still there? If you have something you oh-so-desperately want to share in the conference, you're more than welcome to join us." albeit, against everyone's wishes.

His head snapped to meet your eyes so fast you thought it would detach from his neck. Looking at you with wide, bloodshot eyes, his mood significantly improved. Ah, is he seeing his savior, an angel sent from above?

"Under one condition, though," you continued, "Please don't make any ruckus inside. No gaming either. Speak only when you're permitted to by Captain Igarashi. Would that suffice?"

He nodded eagerly, no words forming in his mouth; he already thinks he's ascending to heaven just by seeing you. Or so he thought.

Aside from being denied the privilege to sit across you by Hasegawa, he can't stand hearing these people talk nonsense! He was expecting you to take charge of the meeting, why haven't you spoken a word?! His ears are at high alert every second that passes in case you speak—waiting and waiting to hear your voice once more. And why is Hoshina representing their division again?! He's starting to get agitated, leg bouncing impatiently and a finger continuously tapping the table, gradually getting louder.

Beside you is Captain Igarashi, who was slowly getting triggered by the noise. This didn't went unnoticed by you, of course, and she was already getting up to give Narumi an earful before you can even stop her.

"Oi, you're being a distraction! Stop doing that, you're not a kid!"

Naturally, the First Division Captain is triggered by this. "Are you calling me a kid, meathead?! You lashed out on me first, who's a kid now, huh?!? Sit your ass back down, you should be grateful to be graced by my presence!"

"And your presence is unwelcomed in our base! I'll report you for trespassing!"

"Oh yeah, oh yeah? I'll have your entire Division begging on my knees after hearing our very own proposal! Did'ya think I came here unprepared?!"

"My division, begging? Not in a million years! The second division yields to no one!"

You pulled your Captain by her sleeve to sit her back down and cleared your throat. "Ahem. I apologize for the commotion—please continue from where we left off."

Hoshina playfully grinned, "No need for that! I was able to cover everythin' Captain Ashiro asked me to relay to ya. You have more pressing matters to attend to, yes? Such as that twerp who's been starin' intently into yer head for the past hour, fellow Vice Cap."

Ah, yes—Captain Narumi did nothing but stare at you for the whole duration of the meeting. You were acting indifferent, but you just wanted to see how long he'll keep his word and act accordingly. "Very well, then. Captain Narumi, you mentioned a proposal from your division. Shall we hear it out?"

Oh. You were finally addressing him. He's beyond ecstatic; his anger is gone in an instant.

He uncharacteristically sat up properly, a mix of seriousness and smugness exuding from him. Taking this opportunity, he made eye contact with you, not once diverting his eyes elsewhere. (Hasegawa, however, seems uneasy. Was he not informed of any proposals?)

"That's right. It goes without saying, but the First Division is an elite division—the strongest of our forces. The stronger our forces get, the stronger I myself become. As Japan's Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant, I'm in need of an even greater source of strength..."

It all happened too fast — In a blink of an eye, Captain Narumi was now kneeling before you. Taking both of your hands in his, he declared, "YOU HAVE TO MOVE TO MY DIVISION! I promise I'll give you perks better than this meathead Captain of yours gives you, I'll grow incredibly stronger with you around and you don't have to worry about working overtime because we can just play BS5 together—"

SMACK!

You hear Hoshina laughing so hard he can't breathe as you looked over to see Hasegawa hitting Narumi's head with a rather thick stack of papers, lifting him as if he's a cat. "That's enough. I aplogize for his brash behavior, Vice Captain."

"NO! Hasegawa, put me down! I'm not done saying my proposal! Listen to me, I'm your Captain!!"

Jura, who was watching this transpire with controlled anger, got fueled up again. "Two-toned head! The next time you dare step in our turf, You'll be seeing your very own wanted posters!!"

This isn't supposed to be anything new to you, definitely not — it's not the first time Captain Narumi asked you to transfer to the First. But you were taken aback with how fast everything happened, you were basically unable to speak.

"Uh... I appreciate the offer?"

Hasegawa dropped Narumi back in his seat, appearing like a small dejected kitty. His vice captain offered an apology once more, asking to proceed with the meeting.

It didn't go unnoticed to you how unusually down Narumi is afterwards, though. Was he really upset this time?

After wrapping up the meeting, you stayed behind to organize the reports given by each division. A stack of paper slipped from your grasp, and before you can even pick them up, a figure gathered them surprisingly fast.

"Captain... Narumi? Shouldn't you go back to your base?"

He spoke softly, "Did you keep it? The Yamazon boxes I sent your way. It's full of stuff you might like."

Ah. The last time he asked you to transfer, he barged in with a handful of Yamazon boxes, full of things that you fancy. Recalling the contents, it was packed with new editions of books you loved reading, cute blind boxes figurines, an entire collection of hundred pieces jigsaw puzzle, raccoon plushies, and a lot more. He follows you on social media, and you always repost whatever catches your interests.

"Of course I did! I bought myself a brand new bookshelf to keep the books and store the puzzles' boxes, and decorated them using the figurines from the blind boxes and raccoon plushies!" You smiled, sharing what you did with each of them. Pulling out your phone, you showed him a photo of your cute little arrangement. "Here, I was satisfied with the outcome, it's my favorite part of my office."

He was staring intently at the photo, taking time to admire your arrangement. The little raccoon keychain dangling from your phone didn't escape his attention either. "I never got to formally give you my gratitude, but please know I'm beyond thankful for these."

Narumi has been looking at your phone for a solid few minutes now, concern taking over your features.

"Captain?"

He gently held the wrist holding your phone and looked at you, "I really, really like you a lot, y'know."

You feel your heart skip a beat, face suddenly warming. He's really full of surprises, the softness and sincerity in his tone evident.

"I mean it when I said I need you in the First Division. Think it over, please?"

Were you imagining things, or has he really been this close to you since a moment ago? Despite how a bit flustered you've been, you refused to get swayed by anything, as you already have a duty you swore to uphold.

"Captain Narumi, please listen—it's not that I'm against your division, it's just that I already have a duty I've yet to fulfill here. Now isn't the right time for me to leave this place." you said with determination.

He pouted, understanding that being with you isn't gonna be as easy he as he wants. He was about to speak when you held up your phone in his face again.

"However, I can compromise. If you want to see me that badly, save your number here and give me a call whenever, wherever." you said, turning your face away from him.

Hearing this instantly lit him up, wasting no time grabbing your phone and entering his number. He dramatically cleared his throat, newfound determination firing him up. "Fine, I'll accept. But just so you know! I'm not giving up on your transfer." he said, smugly crossing his arms.

Giving him one last smile before you part ways, you point at his phone and said, "I'll be looking forward to working with you in the future, Captain Narumi."

Curiously, he opened his contacts to see your number saved, followed with a "Future Right-hand Woman" next to your name.

Oh, he's definitely gonna mess with Jura harder than before.

[mbappebby]

Sometimes you just need your brother || Pt.2

Summary: After finding comfort in her brother’s place, it just seems too good to be true when her father knocks the door….

Makayla Verstappen (OC) x f1 grid

Series

Makayla had fallen asleep with her head rested on Max’s chest. Max didn’t notice until he looked down and seen his little sister asleep.

The 3 other drivers were still at his apartment, Kelly and Penelope were due to come back any moment and that’s when Daniel, Charles and Lando would leave.

“I can’t believe he actually kicked her out.” Max said as the 3 of them looked up at him. “It’s awful, I really don’t understand him” Daniel said.

“She’s only 16 like,” Lando added. “Does he know she’s here?” Charles asked. “Probably, she can only go either me or Vic” Max told him.“You think he’s going to try and take her back?” Lando asked.

“I’m not letting him, I know how he’s been treating her and I’m not letting her go through that anymore” Max added as the door opened.

“Maxie!” Penelope exclaimed as she made her way towards him but stopped when she noticed Makayla there. “What’s KayKay doing here?” Penelope asked.

“I’ll tell you everything later okay? Just keep the noise down as she’s asleep” Max said as she nodded before running back to Kelly.

“We better be going, message any of us Max to update us. Remember we are here to help, Mack is like a sister to us as well” Daniel said.

Max moved his sister‘s head in his chest and onto a pillow before he walked to the door with his 3 fellow drivers. “Thanks guys, means a lot” Max said before bidding goodbye to them.

“Is she okay?” Kelly asked referring to Makayla. “Dad kicked her out, she used all her savings to get a flight over here” Max said. “He kicked her out? Who would that?!” Kelly replied.

“Him apparently, you okay with her staying with us for awhile? I know P loves her anyways” Max asked. “You don’t need to ask, she’s your sister and I know P loves her too” Kelly said with a smile.

“Thank you” Max added.

//

Makayla had woken up to see that she had fallen asleep on the sofa. “Hey sleepyhead” Max joked seeing his sister finally awake. “Shut up, I was tried” Makayla mumbled.

“Is KayKay awake?!” Penelope shouted and when she seen the girl awake she ran and jumped on the sofa with her. “Hey P!” Makayla said as she tickled the young girl.

“KayKay! Stop!!” Penelope giggled as she tried to get out of her grip. Kelly sat down by Max, the two had smiles on their faces seeing the two girls together.

“Hey Kel, sorry didn’t see you there” Makayla said. “It’s alright, happy to see you smiling Mack” Kelly replied with a smile. “Mummy! Can Kay take me to the beach?” Penelope asked.

Makayla gave her older brother a certain look, that he knew he couldn’t say no to. “I hate when you do that look, just be careful you two okay? Be back before it’s gets dark” Max told them as Penelope cheered and ran to get her coat.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Makayla asked, mainly directing the question to Kelly. “Mack, you I trust you with P. How many times have you watched her before this?” Kelly said.

“Just making double sure. Thank you, we won’t be long!” Makayla said as she got ready for the couple watched the two girls leave the apartment.

“I hate how he’s made her think she isn’t allowed to do or go anywhere..” Max mumbled. “She’ll be alright, Mack is a strong girl. We just need to make sure he stays away from her and not try and take her back” Kelly said.

//

makaylaverstappen

Liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and 227,629 others

makaylaverstappen: P💗

view all 2,527 comments

user16 Aww so cute!

user19 I adore their relationship!!🥰

user93 So cuteeeee

kellypiquet She loves you so much💗

makaylaverstappen I love her more💗

user72 Awhhh!

user99 P loves Mack so much🥹

user13 💗💗💗

user4 Adore them so much!!🥹💗

maxverstappen1 She likes u more than me!

makaylaverstappen well obviously😌

maxverstappen1 🙄

user63 lol Max🤣

user02 Max and Makayla >>

//

Makayla and Penelope made their way back to the apartment, the young girl ran to her mother while Makayla followed behind her after taking her shoes and coat off.

“I want KayKay to take me to bed!” She heard Penelope said as she entered the room. “I’ll do it Kel, c’mon P! Let’s finish that book off we were reading!” Makayla said as Penelope jumped in her arms as she carried her to her room.

Max and Kelly smiled at the pair before quietly following them and stood by the door watching the both girls. Makayla finished reading before kissing Penelope’s forehead and leaving to door to be greeted by the couple.

“Watching us were you?” Makayla joked as the three made their way back to the living room. “You are so good with her, she adores you” Kelly said. “I love her” Makayla replied with a smile.

The three of them started to watch a bit of TV, Makayla was on her phone a few times before it was starting to get late and they was about to make their way to bed, but there was a knock on the door..

“Makayla! I know you’re in there, you better come here before I phone the police!” They heard Jos shout.

The girl looked at her older brother with fear on her face, how was she going to get out of this? Kelly came over and pulled her into a hug, before Max started to make his way towards the door.

“Makayla, get here now!” Jos shouted.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Jimmy Uso x Reader - Untitled

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Okay.. this is me working on my smut lol. If anyone has any pointers, let me know. ❤️

To Hubby 💍☝🏽: thank u for the flowers 💋❤️

From Hubby 💍☝🏽: U welcome beautiful. You gon be wearing that when i come back?

To: Hubby 💍☝🏽: Maybe 🤫

To Hubby 💍 ☝🏽 : miss you 😘

From Hubby 💍☝🏽: Fuck, im omw

“Oh shit,” Alani whined as Jon started hammering in and out of her wet pussy. He pushed one of her knees up to her chest and wrapped her other leg around his waist. The position allowed him to hit her sweet spot head on.”Jon, shit.” She moaned out, closing her eyes in ecstasy as he pounded into her.  He was showing her no mercy. She had teased him all night sending him dirty text messages and pictures. He had left the arena as soon as his match was over, telling his brothers and cousin that he wasn’t feeling well. 

“Nah , where you goin’?” He asked as she pushed on his lower stomach trying to push him away. He grabbed her hand and placed it above her head, holding it down to the bed. “This what you wanted right?” He asked, slowing his thrust and leaning down to press kisses on her neck. He picked his head up and slapped her thigh when she didn’t answer him. “You hear me talking to you” 

Alani let her eyes roll into the back of her head and moaned out ”Yes”. He was absolutely right, this was exactly what she wanted. She knew that he was already wound up and horny from being constantly interrupted all week and she had not been any help by sending him those pictures earlier. 

She gasped when he suddenly pulled out and flipped her on her stomach. “F-fuck” He stuttered once he pushed himself back inside of her. He placed one hand on the back of her neck pinning her down to the bed, his eyes glued to her ass as it ricocheted off of his stomach. 

“Mmhmm'' He groaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “Just like that” Jon’s head pulled back in pleasure as Alani continued to throw her ass back on him. 

“You like that daddy?” She asked, feeling herself grow wetter at the sounds that he was making. 

“I fucking love it.” Jon moaned, feeling her pussy tighten around him. He quickly maneuvered them back into missionary position, knowing that she liked to look in his eyes when she came.  He had a wicked grin on his face as he watched her eyes become glazed over. 

“Yeah, you gonna cum on your dick?” Alani could only muster up a loud moan in response. She pulled him back down by the back of his neck and captured his lips with hers. Moaning into each other's mouth as her pussy started to spasm around his length.  Alani broke to kiss to let out a cry of his she came, her juices rushing out of her and soaking his pelvic area and the sheets below them. 

“Shit” He moaned out, his thrust faltering. She opened her eyes, licking her lips as they made eye contact. “Where you want it at baby?” Jon asked, watching and letting out a moan as she brought her hand to her pussy and started rubbing her clit. 

“Oh fuck, baby.” She moaned out feeling herself about to cum again. “I want you to cum in me.”

He looked at Alani with glossy eyes. “Fuck yeah,” he groaned out before pushing her legs up so her feet were almost touching the headboard, knees by her ears. 

“Shit, i’m bouta cum” Jon moaned out as he pounded into her. He let out a loud groan as he came inside her, hops stuttering as continued to thrust slowly into her, her pussy milking him of every last drop. He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to her holding his hand up for a high five.  

Alani looked over at him. “You're so corny.” she rolled her eyes and slapped her hand against his. She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, trailing her fingers up and down his chest. 

“Only for you baby, only for you.”  He muttered, eyes closed as he puckered his lips from a kiss to which she happily obliged. 

“I love you.” She whispered against his lips. 

“I love you too.” 

🫣

tell me what y'all think. I have literally working on this for like 4 months. And it's still not perfect to me but.. enjoy & thank you for reading 🫶🏽

🏷️: @harmshake @empressdede @theninthwonder @qveenmikaelson @black-yn

@mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni @zillasvilla @thatone-girly

@xmonetsworld @paigereeder @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996

@alyyaanna @li-da-savage @kill-the-artiste @wrestlingprincess80 @that-one-anxious-mango

@mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @trashbin-nie @adoreesun @meggylynnloves @shayaaaaaaa

@bebesobrielo @bookuce

[daydreams-after-dark]

Hii can I request a Dom seungmin and jeongin fic (threesome) plzplz? Could be anything but pls I've been very thirsty for Dom vocalracha lately after reading this one fic of them on Tumblr having a foursome with reader+Felix and I very much died reading it

Plz make it extra rough but lots of praise, could be any scenario, just Dom seungmin and jeongin 🥰

Also unrelated ask but r u comfy with writing fics where reader is transgender? Ftm or mtf? Just asking, it's unrelated to the req dw

Have a good one 🎂

It’s a Jeongin and Seungmin story today 🤗

Not my usual characters, but it seems so many of you after-darklings (not sure what I should call you: suggestions are open) are getting really wet and/or hard for this pair. So I feel I must feed you all the goodness that is vocalracha.

Also, re ftm / mtf, absolutely open to this, but I don’t feel knowledgeable enough just yet.

MDNI // SMUT

CW: threesome m x f x m, rough penetration, oral sex (m rec.), collar and leash, choking, blindfolds, squirting, praise, pet names, creampie, pussy slapping, face slapping, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation.

You knew when you received the voice message from Jeongin you were fucked. Well, going to be fucked. Rough, according to his message.

“You’re in a lot of trouble my sweet little girl. Avoiding me all week like that. Meet me at the hotel. You know what’s going to happen.”

You gulped. The hotel usually meant an extra level of unhinged, and oftentimes he’d bring Seungmin to play with punish you.

You put on your best pair of lace panties and matching bra, high heels and a short little dress and took a cab into the outer city where the hotel was located.

They were already there. Waiting for you.

Seungmin answered the door. “Pretty little pup.” He whispered, cupping your jaw and swiping his thumb along your bottom lip and smearing your freshly applied lipstick.

You allowed your lips to part slightly, an opportunity Seungmin immediately took. He hooked his thumb in your mouth forcefully and chuckled to himself. “I’ve missed you. Missed owning you.”

He spun you around and pushed you up against the door and nipped at your neck. You could feel his erection pressing against you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He whispered against your neck. His hands peeled your dress up and squeezed the flesh of your ass. One hand remained there while the other quickly unbuckled his belt.

Anticipation flooded your body, your cunt aching for his cock. He squeezed his length between your thighs so it slid against your pussy.

“Fucking wet already, hmm? Panties are soaked.” He kissed your neck passionately. “A filthy little whore. A perfect little pup.”

“Seungmin.” A stern voice came from the bed. “You’re not going to fuck her in the first five minutes. She needs to be a begging mess before she deserves our cocks.”

You whimpered. You wanted Seungmin to sink into you right then and there.

“Jeongin, needs for you to beg for it, princess. I need you to be a really good girl for me. You want my cock don’t you?” He nipped your earlobe.

“Y-yes… cock. Need your cock.” You choked.

“I know you do. All you need to do is exactly what we say, and I promise we’ll let you come.”

You nodded. “Yes. I’ll be a good pup.”

“Crawl to me.” Jeongin demanded in a cold tone. You swallowed hard as Seungmin backed away and you turned and dropped onto all fours.

You met Jeongin’s gaze as you slowly crawled across the floor, the hotel carpet rough on your knees. Better than a hardwood floor, you supposed. You knelt between his knees and waited.

Seungmin came up behind you and attached your favourite collar and leash, handing the chain to Jeongin.

“Stand.” He tugged the chain and you obeyed. “Take off your clothes. Leave your heels on.”

The two men watched you with hungry eyes as you pulled your dress down and stepped out of it. Then your panties and bra. They’d seen you naked plenty of times, but you still felt yourself blush a little, when their expressions were as though it was their first time seeing your naked form.

“Now undress us.” Seungmin commanded as he drifted his hand down your back and over the curve of your ass.

You took your time undressing them, marinating in the anticipation that had taken over your body. You were wet from just the thought of what was unfolding, your cunt ached knowing it was going to be abused shortly.

Jeongin settled on the bed. Head resting on the pillows, long, hard erection lying against his taut abs. Fucking scrumptious.

Slowly, you climbed up onto the bed and he grasped the chain dangling from your collar and tugged you so your face was hovering over his cock. He patted your head gently and smiled kindly.

Then his entire demeanour changed in a millisecond. His shy eyes turned deranged, his smile turned into a crazed grin.

Seungmin was quickly behind you bullying his cock into your cunt. You gasped at the stretch and then the depth as he slammed in the entire way.

“We’re not going to go easy on you. But we know you’re a good girl. We know you’re going to take everything we give you.” He grunts as he sets a brutal pace.

“Choke on my cock, pretty angel.” Jeongin whispered.

You took him in a hand and teased him with your tongue. You licked up the underside of the shaft and then slapped it against the flat of your tongue.

“Tsk tsk… that’s not choking on it, sweetheart.” Jeongin pushed the back of your head down over his length.

Seungmin snapped his hips hard, every impact of his pelvis against your ass pushed you further onto Jeongin’s length. You made a loud choking sound, and the two men chuckled.

“That’s our good girl. Pretty sounds.” Jeongin purred as you struggled to take him.

Suddenly, your arms were ripped from underneath you where you had been supporting yourself, and were held securely behind your back by Seungmin. With no way to support your upper body, you fell entirely over Jeongin’s cock, choking you even more. Your lips met his pubic bone and your eyes widened with fear.

Seungmin grunted and pinned you down by pushing on your arms where he had them in his tight grip.

Jeongin started to thrust his hips up to fuck your face. Your vision blurred as your eyes filled with tears and your mascara smeared on your cheeks.

You felt someone tug on the chain, lifting you up enough to catch your breath and then you were pushed back down.

Harder and harder they fucked you from both ends, you without any control over what was happening. They let you up for air, then pushed you back down to deep throat Jeongin. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to do this. You could hardly catch your breath before your throat was being stretched with his dick again.

“So perfect. Look at you. Such a good little slut for us.” Jeongin stroked your hair affectionately. “Taking cock so fucking well.”

Without warning, Seungmin pulled out of your dripping cunt and yanked you off of Jeongin.

“I’ve got a fun game I wanna play with you pup.” He fetched the swivel chair from the desk in the the corner of the room and positioned it in the middle of the floor.

“Come. Kneel on this.” He directed you. Pulling the leash. You knelt on the seat of the chair with your arms resting on the backrest.

A blindfold was placed around your eyes and fingers were shoved into your mouth. At the same time a cock pushed its way into your needy cunt.

You could tell it was Seungmin’s fingers and Jeongin’s cock by how aggressive the hips were slamming into you and how rough the fingers were.

Your orgasm was building, your walls tightening. Yes. Yes. This felt so fucking amazing.

Then, you were empty and being spun on the chair, only to be penetrated again. They fucked you for some time before repeating the process. Again and again and again.

You became so fucked out that you lost track of who was in your pussy and who was in your mouth. All you knew was that you were in some sort of filthy heaven. A little cockslut for your favourite men.

They pulled and tugged your hair, their fingers were rough and unforgiving in your mouth. They fucked you for their own pleasure, not caring how deep they were hitting you. Not caring if it hurt. They slapped your ass, dug their fingers in. They even slapped your face every so often, which made your cunt clench.

You loved it when they were rough with you. You were so close, on the verge of shattering, when you found yourself empty once more. The blindfold was ripped off and you were laid on your back at the edge of the bed.

“Hold your fucking legs up, sweetheart.”

“Please…I need to come. Please…been good…please!” You were sobbing and begging for relief.

“Shhh… pup. We’ve got you.” Seungmin cooed.

He rubbed lyour pussy frantically, almost violently, slapping your pussy every now and then. Jeongin held his cock close as he spurted thick ropes of cum on your entrance. He pushed your legs back, pinning them in place while Seungmin relentlessly assaulted your pussy.

“Take it. You wanna come. Be a good girl.” He taunted.

You squirmed and writhed underneath them, your clit was too sensitive. But the pressure inside continued to build until—

“Fuck!!!!!!!! Nghhh!!!! Coming!!” You cried as liquid spurted from your core.

“Yes…make a mess…I know you have more.” Growled Jeongin and he pushed two long fingers inside you to attack your g spot.

It was too much. You had lost control of your voice, your thoughts - everything, and with what could only be described as a wild, primal scream you squirted more, spilling your juices all over yourself. You broke down, crying and shaking.

But they weren’t finished with you. Jeongin rubbed your juices and his cum all over your stomach and up to your breasts, massaging them in a rough way. Seungmin quickly pushed his cock back inside you and fucked your sensitive and used pussy some more.

“Gonna fill you up, pup.” He panted.

Jeongin’s hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed as Seungmin emptied himself against your cervix. Feeling Seungmin’s final thrusts whilst being choked had you seeing stars one more time.

You were addicted to this, and you made a mental note to be a brat this coming week. You wanted to see how far you could push them, what kind of games they’d want to subject you to.

But for now, the three of you were spent, taking your time to shower and dress, and eventually go out for a meal.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni

[melrodrigo]

The Other Side Of The Door - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada’s been a questionable girlfriend lately, and you’ve decided you’ve had enough.

Warnings: Angst, Vada is kinda toxic in this, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Inspired by TOSOTD by miss t-swizzle herself. I hope u angst monsters r happy, I don’t write angst very often. Also! Did not proofread this, sorry bout that

“Leave.” You say, face stoney and eyes narrowed. You ignore the voice inside of you that says this is a terrible idea.

Your girlfriend blinks back at you, taken aback by the venom in your voice.

Her expression changes from happy to crestfallen in a second, and it takes everything in you to not immediately take back what you’ve just said.

“What is this about?” She asks, eyes wide.

The minute your girlfriend had waltzed into your room, whistling to her favorite Juice Wrld song, she had been met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, arms crossed.

“What is this about? Are you kidding, Vada?” You seethe, too pissed to have any sort of filter anymore.

She gulps.

“How about it’s about the countless times I’ve had to drag you back home because you were drunk shitless, doing god knows what with god knows who, without any explanation whatsoever.” You’re standing up now, sizing Vada up.

“It’s about the amount of times you’ve ignored me this whole week, never answering texts, never picking up my calls. Am I even your girlfriend anymore?” You press, rambling as if everything that’s been pent up inside you for weeks stars spilling out all at once.

Your girlfriend pales as you monologue, eyes darting to lock on anything but your face.

“But-“ She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times, searching for something to say.

You cut her off quickly. Unwillingly to let her have any say in this.

“Quite frankly, I’ve had enough. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.” You tell her, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes are starting to water.

She’s as still as a statue for a good minute or two, contemplating what she wants to do. You can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.

One more glare from you has her rushing out your room and downstairs. You can’t help the pang in your chest as you watch her leave. After everything, you still want her to stay.

Stupid girl and the grip she has on me.

Nothing quells your bad mood for the rest of the night. You spend dinner shooting back one word responses to your mom’s inquiries, irritable.

You tuck yourself into bed, check your phone for a message from anyone—okay, maybe you wanted to see if Vada had said anything, but nothing. You huff and pull the sheets over your body, closing your eyes shut and forcing sleep to have its way with you.

-

Somehow, in the morning, you wake up even more annoyed. Whenever you’ve had fights with Vada before, the morning after she’d be all over you; begging for forgiveness and blowing up your phone.

You’re ashamed to admit you like the attention.

Today, nothing. Not a single call or text from your normally oh so talkative girlfriend.

As the day goes on, you start feeling mournful. Regret courses deep through you. You sit and stew in your feelings until you can’t think of anything else.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that.

It’s a sad Sunday that’s spent with you staring at cute photographs you’d taken with her months prior, and jumping at the sound of any notification. It’s pathetic, but you need her. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you and Vada have had a day apart.

You’re stuck. You miss her so much, but your stupid pride won’t allow you to text first, or to go find her, because what would you even do? You’d been the one to apologize first too many times. This time, you decide it’s going to be up to Vada.

You sleuth around for the rest of your Sunday. When you finish dinner and storm to your room, your turmoil has turned into spite.

“If you don’t call in the next 5 minutes I swear I’m breaking up with you.” You hiss to the phone, staring intently at Vada’s profile picture, as if she’s just going to pop out of the phone by sheer will of you wanting her there.

After a minute of this, you set the phone down and take a deep breath. You turn your phone on do not disturb and pick up a book. All this drama has you feeling like you need to reconnect with nature a bit.

It’s a book Vada herself had recommended you, which was funny, since your girlfriend barely read shit. You hate to admit she has good taste. You glide through the pages easily, happy for a distraction.

Minutes turn into hours, and before long, you notice that the light is starting to dim down and the sun is starting to set. You also hear the tiny pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof.

You get up and walk to your window, face still buried in your book, and gently ease it open, hoping to find some comfort in the fresh air and smell of wet grass.

What you get is not that. A pebble, the size of your pinky comes hurling, too fast for even your reflexes to react.

It hits you smack dab in the face, making you loosen your grip on the book and dropping it. You groan, rubbing the part of your nose that stings. You hear a tiny oh shit below you and you peer out your window so fast it gives you whiplash.

The sight of Vada standing in the rain, her hair messy and her bike discarded on your tiny front yard brings out a lot of mixed emotions in you.

Finally. Goddamn, finally.

She looks sheepish as she speaks. “I’m sorry!” She squeaks. “I didn’t mean to hit you- I swear. I was just trying to do one of those huge romantic gestures where the guy gets the girls attention by throwing pebbles at her window ya know? But it ended up being kinda fun and I didn’t see you when I threw that one-“ She says, speaking so fast you can barely understand her.

When you don’t answer, it’s almost like Vada remembers what she came here for. She straightens up, wiping her palms on her loose graphic tee.

“I’m sorry. I really am. If you would hear me out, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I’m sorry for not coming to my senses earlier, and I’m sorry for not paying you enough attention. I love you, I’m in love with you; you know that. More than anything.” She yells, almost screams so you can hear her clearly.

You feel your walls crumble immediately. How were you going to deny your sweet, loving, albeit sort of confusing girlfriend of your love? It was no use. She always wins when it comes to you.

You sigh.

Vada waits patiently, shifting on her feet and shivering slightly from the cold.

You gesture for her to come in with your hand, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the joy that sparks across her face immediately.

She sprints in, saying a quick hello to your mom- who probably heard everything, and runs up the stairs, practically tackling you onto your own bedroom floor.

She’s soaked, and you can already feel the water seeping through your own shirt, but you don’t care. Vada’s wrapped herself tight around you, like a baby koala. She’s trembling slightly, and you notice she’s crying.

You place your hand on top of her head, rubbing gently. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes all red and puffy. She looks so pretty like this.

“I missed you so much.” She gushes.

You grin lazily, happy to have your girlfriend back in your arms.

“I missed you too, baby.”

[jynxpsiche]

Not Tangerine already planning on fathering reader's baby as his won, cause hey, the baby also has blue eyes so he can totally pass of as their son.

Also imagine if the real dad ever shows up and tries come back into the baby's life and Tangerine is all conflicted cause he loves the kid as if it's his own son :/

OH MY GOD THANK U SO MUCH ANON FOR REQUESTING THIS! LITERALLY CHEF KISS! We love a jealous Tangerine <3

Unwanted texts

💌. Summary: unanswered texts from her, lead Tangerine to meet someone he already despised…

or

…Tangerine meets the baby’s biological father for the first time.

💌. Warning: SWEARING. LIKE A LOT! Jealous Tangerine, female reader, canon gore. English is not my first language! I don’t know many British slangs!

X

c’mon babe

I just wanna meet the baby

be there for them, y’know?

pls answer me

It’s been already a couple of days and sometimes, during different hours of the day and night, your phone would ding with notifications…from him.

Your ex boyfriend.

The biological father of your precious baby.

The whole situation pissed you off. Firstly, when he found out about your pregnancy, he decided to leave without an explanation and leave you alone. Then he had the nerve to message you after god knows how many years.

It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

But obviously you couldn’t ask for any type of help from Tangerine.

He was quite the protective type, especially if the main cause was a shitty ex-boyfriend.

Surely he would have gone feral if he found out about your ex’s sudden texts. That’s why you decided to keep the thing for yourself and just…ghost him.

But who would have known that you would end up calming down a rather irate Tangerine?

However, it’s important to start from the beginning.

It was a day off for Tan, which meant that he would have spent the entire day with you and his little one. But since it was still too early to get up, for now he simply drank in your warmth and cuddled your body closer to his, without waking you up.

The curly man was affectionate only with his girl and his baby, neither to his brother he showed this side of his. He wasn’t ashamed of it, he just had a reputation to defend.

His chin was placed on your head while you were all nuzzled in the crook of his neck. His strong and bulky arms were tightly wrapped around your waist, not allowing you to leave. Not that you wanted to.

Only your soft breaths echoed through the room. But the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by the ping of a notification. The sound made him grimace, but not waking up from his slumber.

Then another ping, closely followed by another and another one.

Now Tangerine was fully awake, his half-closed eyes glaring at the device on your nightstand. When he noticed no more ding’s came from your phone, he softly pecked your forehead before trying to fall asleep again.

But then again. A new message.

Groaning softly, Tan lifted himself from the bed, before pecking your forehead again and assured that you didn’t wake up.

He was not standing on your side of the bed, the device on your nightstand calling for him to check what had interrupted his sleep.

With a furrowed and irritated expression, Tangerine unlocked your phone, noticing new messages unopened. They had been sent just a couple of minutes ago.

He quickly glanced at your sleeping figure, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. His expression furrowed more when he saw the contact’s name. X.

Who the fuck was that?

But he surely was took by anger when he read the multiple messages he sent you.

He wasn’t only a dickhead, but he was also the biological father of his son.

His bloodshot eyes read every line and every word of every message he dared to sent you. His fingers gradually tightening their grip around the device.

The another ding. Another message.

X

I know ur reading the texts

ur online

u finally have the courage to read what I’ve been sending you

u stopped ghosting me huh?

God you’re such a bitch sometimes…

His vision darkened at the last text he sent, nostrils fuming with rage.

X

I want to see the kid

Meet me here

Xx xx xx, xx

“Tan? You good?” Your sleepy and raspy voice reached his ears and immediately he turned towards you, his furious expression never leaving his face.

You noticed, of course. Slowly you rose from your spot on the comfy bed and lazily dragged herself up to his tense figure, wrapping her delicate arms around his waist.

A soft kiss on his back.

“What is making you so tense?” You whispered against his skin, your hands gently rubbing his sides. Tan slightly crocked his head in your direction, his brows still furrowed. A sigh left his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He instead asked with a low tone laced with rage. “Why did you hide it from me?” His tone showed how he strongly demanded an answer.

“I could have handle it. I simply didn’t answer his texts to show him how an insignificant being like him should be six feet under. To show him how he was a nobody to me anymore.” Your tone was flat, laced with venom, finally expressing all your suppressed rage.

His expression immediately softened at your words, his brows relaxing and the wrinkles on his forehead disappearing. The tails of his mouth slightly raised in an almost visible smile.

But you noticed it.

When he turned in your direction, his hands on your waist, his lips left a soft peck on your forehead. His face was calm and so close to yours.

“I’m goin’ to take care of him. Don’ worry.” He whispered, his soothing voice sending you in a sleepy mood. A light yawn left your mouth. He chuckled at your reaction.

“Now go to sleep love.”

After you fell into another peaceful but deep slumber, Tangerine got to work.

With Lem’s help (after calling him for twenty minuets straight, the poor man was sleeping) he managed to find the phone location and so the location of the fucker.

It was now 3:45 am and Tan was alone in a desert neighbourhood. Silence was his only company at the moment.

He stood still in front of an apartment complex, his eyes fixed on a specific window while the cigarette in his hand slowly burnt.

With a flick he tossed the small nicotine stick and put it out with a stomp of his foot. His lips were curled into an annoyed curl.

Silently, he climbed the fire escape with big steps and in a blink of an eye his shadow was printed in front of the covered window, blinds hiding the inside.

But a faint light from behind them immediately caught his attention, a sadistic grin creeping on his moustache.

His hand grabbed the gun from his pocket and he shot the window’s lock, allowing him to access to the apartment.

Frantic, disconnected noises echoed from inside. Tangerine knew the fucker heard him.

Only when he entered he was met with a younger, dull man, his face pale and his eyes wide from fear. “Who…who the fuck are you?!” He half shouted, his voice cracking a bit.

The man wanted to show his composure so bad, show him how collected and tough he was. But in reality, he was shitting in his pants.

With great strides, Tangerine approached the trembling man, his pistol clearly visible. “‘s not important, is it? Wha’ is important is why you fuckin’ harassing my love with your insipid messages.” He spat out in a hard tone, his rigid stare piercing the man’s soul.

The man’s eyes frantically wandered around, he is searching something to defend himself thought Tan. Quick pants from the man often broke the silence in the room.

He took a step back, his hands shaking uncontrollably. His body language was visibly betraying him. “Just…the fuck you want from me?!” He continued in a fake authoritative voice.

Tangerine held his face high, communicating how he was in control. Slowly his arm raised and he pointed the gun in the man’s forehead.

“I want you to delete her number, to forget about her and the baby and to never contact her again.” He stated with calm rage. His tone extremely sharp.

When the man was the pistol pointed at his head, his confident mask fell, his eyes filled with tears and his still standing posture crouched on himself. Shamelessly he nodded his head at every request, his voice dead in the back of his throat.

Suddenly, Tangerine shot the man in the leg and he stumbled back. A cry came out from his mouth.

“This’s your last warnin’.”

[huexuri]

i have a thought! soob sending u a whimper audio or a lewd ass clip of him playing w himself bc he's so desperate for u to come back lol

yes omgeeee anon u are so smart !!!! i was thinking of something like this earlier but this seems like a better idea😭 also u are my first ask THANK UUUUUYYYUUUU

⋆ please come home (switch!soobin x switch!reader)

NSFW, MDNI!

(warnings: soob is switch(very sub lean) in this, reader is switch(dom lean), fem!reader, protective!soob, bratty!soob, degrading, masturbating, whimpering, sexting, dry humping, pet names: [good boy, baby, slut] thigh humping, tell me if there's more!)

note: ive been dying to get a request like this omg what a way to start the new year (HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERUONE)

"soob," you sighed.

you'd only be going out for a few hours to a party that one of your girlfriends practically begged you to go to, and since you haven't met her since the pandemic, of course you agreed to go. yet when soobin said himself that he absolutely didn't mind yesterday night, it didn't occur to you that 5 minutes before you head out, he'd be holding on to your arm asking who's gonna be there, where are you off to, etc. maybe it's just one of his protective traits, but you two agreed on this, so you weren't sure why he was so protective of you now.

"just promise you're not gonna go and let other guys hit on you okay? you know you get tipsy so easily right? i'm not saying i don't trust you at all ... i just don't want other guys to look at you! because you're so pretty in this dress... but only my eyes are allowed on you right? just don't go ar—"

"soobin!! i won't drink or anything okay? don't worry about me so much, just send me a message when you feel lonely okay? i'll talk to you on the phone if you need to. it's gonna be fine, soob.." you cut his words off, gave him a peck on the lips, smiled at him with reassurance and waved him a goodbye before he smiled back at you hesitantly.

"bye!! be safe!!!" was what soobin yelled as you were about to shut the front door, and all you could respond with was a louder "mhm!!!!" followed by the door flying shut.

an hour later, and you're sitting at the bar gossipping with all of your girlfriends. other than that, they constantly persuade you to drink. but knowing you, after one shot you go all red... which, sipping your iced water you decline their offer... over and over and over again. they just won't stop bugging you!!!,, so, you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to text your beloved.

sneaking yourself into a stall, you open your chat box to realize you'd left him on delivered for an hour ... "damn," you muttered to yourself, feeling bad that you possibly left him worried, but only 2 unread messages greet you with : "i miss you already!!:(" followed by a 2 minute long voice note.

you immediately plug in your earphones, ready to listen to whatever song he wanted to sing or whatever gossip he had to tell you.

"haa... miss you s-so bad.... mmh... come home pretty please?—a-ah fuck....."

immediately your eyes widened at the lewd sounds he made, you paused the voice note with a look on your face as if you just got caught commiting a crime. it caught you SO off guard, that was the thing you least expected ...., he knew you had a thing for his moans. in fact, it was one of your major turn-ons.. but soobin was never a vocal person in bed, he'd deny it even. if he made any sounds, he'd get flustered immediately. he thought it made him seem too feminine, so he never believed you when you said you liked it.

was this really him? you thought to yourself..

your finger hesitantly pressed the resume button on your screen.

"f-fuck, baby.. i'm c-cumming, aah,, you like it? come... c-come back for it.. ss—shit !!.."

2 minutes in, the audio coming to an end, you felt your thighs squeeze against each other, you felt your walls clench around nothing. my god, he sounded heavenly. you could hear the squelches of him stroking himself up and down, you could practically hear his pace fasten as his breaths became more irregular and his moans slowly increase in volume. you could literally tell when he busted all over himself. and oh, you did not know how much this aroused you until today.

screw this party, screw the drinks. he SO knew how to get you to come back home.

"i'm coming." you simply sent him, then you get ready to leave. after you left the stall, with a "sorry everyone, i have to go back, it's urgent.", you hastily left the party.

you practically bust the door open when you reach back to your apartment, panting as you see soobin lying on the couch scrolling away on his phone as if he didn't just get you leaking out of your panties. this son of a bitch, seriously.... teasing like that and acting like nothing happened??

"oh hey! you're finally back!! i missed you~" soobin happily exclaimed as got off the couch and walked up to you to give you a peck.

when you don't reply, he has the audacity to ask you what's wrong. towering over you, he still acts cute and ignorant until you nudge him against the door as it flings shut. your knees are in between his slightly bent legs and immediately you shove your lips into his, cupping his face as your tongues fight for dominance. your free hand reaches down to his bulge to stroke it through his pants. he moans into your mouth and oh my fucking god did it turn you on even more. how badly did you miss his beautiful voice? you could feel his erection start to fill in the space in your palm as it grew bigger and harder. pulling away from the kiss with both of you panting, soobin only pouts at you..

"what did i doooo? why so rough?" he looked at you with glistening, innocent eyes. not so innocent though, because he knew what he was fucking doing.

squeezing his clothed cock in response, he let out a soft moan at that. "soobin you fucking brat ... you KNOW what you're doing." you say in between breaths.

in a blink of an eye he'd flipped you over, now your back leaning the door with a soft thud, "brat, huh? say it again.." soobin responded, with a smug smile on his face.

when you don't respond but smash your lips back onto his, his dominant composure melts away into your kiss and he desperately grinds against your bare thighs. you rock your hips in response and his moan travels down your throat again. your hand wanders around, tugs on his waistband and sinks under, where now you feel the material of his boxers and his cock that twitches in your palm. your other hand runs up his shirt and tugs at his nipple, which he bucks his hips in response. he finally pulls away from the kiss, this time sloppier, and runs a finger though your hair. you took your hand off his boxers and your other hand out of his shirt, and placed them both on his shoulders.

"do you want it?" you muttered.

"i've been waiting for so long," soobin whispered, barely able to make out words.

"promise that you'll put those vocals to use?"

"y-yes."

now your hands leaving his shoulders and holding onto his wrist, you lead him to the sofa and pushed him onto his back.

"couldn't even wait until i came home, huh.." you muttered as you quickly unbuckled your tight leather dress. soobin only looked up at you with eager eyes when your dress fell off of your shoulders, exposing your body to the cold air. throwing the dress on the ground, you pull his pants down as well. just as he was going to take off his boxers you grabbed his wrist, and instead sunk down onto his hard on, the both of you clothed.

"but—"

"soobin, patience.."

you interlocked your fingers with his and started to grind down on him. his precum and your slick starts to seep through the cloth and soon you were sloppily humping him. he didn't lie when he said he was going to put those vocals to use, because as you rocked against him, he let out the most heavenly sounds you'd ever heard from him. those broken moans, only he could see how badly it turned you on. his fucked out face and his wet hair weren't helping either.

"i r-really want to cum ... p-please!—" soobin was only able to mumble between whimpers.

"not yet, hang in there..." you cupped his face, then thrusting a finger into his mouth. "take it like the good boy you are, and maybe i'll let you cum in me.."

soobin only nodded in response, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked on your finger like his life depended on it — his saliva coating every surface of your finger.

"gooood boy... so needy just for me... huh? sent me a clip of you playing with yourself just so i can help you finish?"

his eyes fluttered open with the neediest look someone could ever look up at you from, in response to the pet name. you smiled at that and let him release your fingers. you pulled down your soaked panties and motioned him to do the same, he looked at you with a "really?" kind of look, and when you assured him, his cock immediately sprung out of his boxers— tip fiery red and shaft twitching like it's deprived of touch.

"do you wanna fuck me?" you said as you lied down on your back, looking down at him, looking like he's been desperate to fuck you.

"oh my god.." soobin panted.

soobin positioned himself in between your legs, his twitching cock against your aching cunt, he looked at you with a final confirmation.

"go ahead, baby."

with one full thrust he thrusted into you. unaware about his bigness, when you winced slightly in pain he was worried if he'd done anything. but since he was so desperate... you didn't want to ruin his moment, so you let him.

"s-soobin... fuck.."

"shit, baby.. you're so fucking— t-tight..."

eventually, your walls had moulded into the shape of him, and each thrust became less and less painful, more and more pleasurable. you were so focused on how good he felt when it caught you off guard that he started to play with your clit, long, veiny fingers flicking up and down on your swollen bud as he thrusted in and out of you at a controlled pace.

"fuck, fuck— when did you— get this g-good with your fingers... mmh..." you muttered.

soobin looked down at you with a satisfied smile and continued to rub circles on your clit,, soon his thrusts became sloppier, strings of saliva mixed with all sorts of other bodily fluids connecting soobin's body with yours...

"i'm—fuck, c-can i please!! please please... please let me c-cum.. mmh—!" soobin moaned, with obvious need in his voice, beads of tears welling up at his eyes, sweat dripping down his chest and soaking his shirt,,

"s-soobin... you can cum, baby ..... s-shit i—i'm—" your voice shakey, you could feel yourself reaching your climax. you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer to you, now chest to chest, you pulled him in a sloppy kiss, he moaned into you as you felt his warm seed fill you up to the brim.

you both stayed like this for a whole 5 minutes in silence. you thought he'd fallen asleep until..

"thank you.." soobin whispered.

"what?"

"thank you for coming back home."

"mm.."

"do you really like it when i'm vocal?"

"are you fucking serious, soobin?" you playfully smacked his back in a effort to hit him.

you could feel soobin grin against your ear.

"let's go get you cleaned up, pretty." soobin patted your head as he got off of you.

"hey, you too.." you weakly responded.

soobin could only giggle at that, and you scoffed.