#oops thirst post

[koskela-knights]

AW2 Characters x You NSFW

A bunch of random NSFW HC's for some of the AW2 cast x You 👀 I try to be as gender-neutral as possible! (Includes some kink and rough sex descriptions)

Alan: He is very eager to please you. Often checking in with you, asking if you're still liking it when he goes down on you or when he's inside you. He is pretty vanilla at first but if you two get to know each other better, he'd like to explore and experiment with some kinks. Turns out being tied-up and blindfolded gives him a certain relaxation he doesn't often experience and he 100% trusts you in this vulnerable position.

Saga: She's a good and attentive lover. She likes to kiss you a lot during sex. Kisses vary from sweet, gentle kisses, to long and sloppy kisses to quick smooches peppered across your skin. The nape of Saga's neck is very sensitive and she likes you teasing that spot when she's on top of you. After sex, she is really into cuddles and hugging. Depending on how intense you've got, she'll suggest taking a shower or a relaxing bath which may or may not lead to more intimate moments together.

Casey: Casey can be very passionate in bed. Or he gets you off quick and dirty depending on the occasion. He prides himself in his skillful hands. Casey won't admit it but he loves it when you play with his tie when you ride him. He prefers missionary or any position that allows him to look in your eyes when he fucks you or the other way around. He'd been hesitant about anal at first but after some experimentation, he really likes it. Especially because of you.

Zane: Zane is unsurprisingly an adventurous type. He is quick to explore new things with you. As much as he likes to direct, and be the artist, he also loves to be underneath you and turn his body into your canvas (he definitely wants to explore the multiple facets of impact play with you with him being on the receiving end). He somewhat has a fascination with hands and isn't ashamed to worship them in the bedroom (or elsewhere 😏) Shame, in general, is not in Zane's dictionary. He's definitely willing to try out that secret kink you have.

Scratch: This man fucks nasty and dirty. He is rough and can easily manhandle you. Sex against the wall while holding you up is no biggie for this beast. He always has a strong grip on you (reminding you whom you belong to) and likes to dig his nails into you as he fucks you into the mattress or into the couch. His thrusts are erratic and vigorous each time. Biting is often involved too. Scratch likes to cum inside you. Don't be surprised if you end up all marked after he's done with you.

Rose: She may not be as experienced but she is keen on making it work for both of you. She knows what she wants and knows what feels good for her body so she doesn't shy away from guiding you and telling you what to do. Rose is very vocal, be it pleasuring you or being pleasured by you. She owns a magic wand and is always enthusiastic when she gets to use it together with you. She definitely would want to try things out that she's read in fanfic at some point.

Anderson brothers: Don't let their old age fool you. Sure, there used to have more energy in them but viagra and other things exist for a reason. Tor likes to dirty talk while Odin might be a sweet talker, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you ride him. Tor likes you giving him handjobs and Odin likes you playing with his sensitive nipples. The Andersons like to get creative with sex toys that aid them when their own mobility might be restricted. The toys definitely enhance the sexperience. The Andersons are sure to rock your world.

Koskela brothers: Jaakko is a gentle lover but can be rough if you want him to be. He's into fucking you passionately, making each thrust count. He loves it when he gives oral and gets your juices all over his mouth and beard. Ilmo is less experienced and pretty touch-starved. With just the right touches you'll turn him into a whimpering, needy, leaking mess. Initially, he'll act cocky but feels pretty insecure about his skills. He is vocal and once he gains more confidence, likes to whisper naughty things in your ear. Both Koskelas know some spots to take you anywhere 😏

Tim: He is definitely fun in the bedroom. Novelty sex toys aren't alien to him😉 He can be a bit distracted at times, getting ahead of what you're doing but pay enough attention to his body with your hands and mouth and he's all yours. He likes it when you mess with his hair and get it all tangled up and messy. He enjoys caressing your shoulders and back. After sex, Tim basks in your body heat as he rests his head on your chest to hear your soothing heartbeat.

Estevez: She has a good strap game and will be patient and assisting if it's your first time receiving. She'll guide you through the different steps if necessary. If you're on top, riding her, she likes to make you beg for affirmations and makes you work to earn your praise and kisses. Estevez likes you eating her out. She loses her speech when you bury your tongue deep inside her or twirl it around her clit. She will pull your hair as you go down on her.

Door: This man has thighs for days and prefers it when your head is between them, and you looking up at him. He likes to fuck you on his desk. He easily takes the lead and is a smooth talker. A skill he has honed throughout the years as a talk show host which he happily uses to make your fantasies come true and ingrain new desires you didn't know you had before.

YY Ilmari: In a similar vein to Scratch, Ilmari is a rough partner. He is probably into choking and definitely into knife play. He fucks you steadily but as he gets closer to his climax, will become erratic and desperate. He likes to grab your shoulders as he presses himself against you. Mainly enjoys topping or receiving oral but if he gives, he makes sure you'll feel it and he won't go easy on you. He likes to cum in your face and dirty you all up.

[potato-lord-but-not]

Arthur being a menace and also my fav side characters evveerrrrr Noel hiiii

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Riddle me this, Machine.

Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food?

Hmph!

Audio source

[koskela-knights]

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO WAKE UP HOLY SHIT

I will rb this twice in a row for reasons 👀😳😳😳😳😳 I respect you Jaakko stan 🙏🏽🥵🥵🥵

Ilmo’s beautiful lore accurate booty 🍑🤤look at the biceps

The Koskela brothers.

I love these weirdos. They are so cute. I know most people prefer Ilmo, but I'm a Jakko stan. That passiveness. NO! Energy saving - fabulous!

[koskela-knights]

Ilmari of Finland

[wolvndmouth]

welp it’s official i’m ovulating

i can always tell when i’m at optimum breeding levels when i start 24/7 daydreaming about this motherfucker practicing safe sex lying about pulling out

come on jimmy, you virile sonofabitch I’M THE EGG QUEEN IM THE QUEEN OF THE EGGS

[bibibifemme]

OMFGGGG there was this guy on the bus that made me 😵‍💫🥵 he was *at least* a head taller than me and HIS VOICE UGHHHHH 🥴🥴🤤 his hair looked so soft and we bumped hands so i KNOW his skin's so fkn soft

and and and !!! he had this amaaaaazing neck tattoo that had me *drooling* thinking of seeing it while he fucking pounds into me AHHHHH FUUUUUCK 🥵🥴🥴🤤

[trixibebe]

Idk what it is but Zhao in his swim wear + the samurai job, especially the archer skills are visually a very good combo.

[koskela-knights]

Despite everything going on, I remain a simple man: I see hairy Koskela boobs and I am overcome with unbridled lust

[no-144444]

the grid: can you fight?

꩜ featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, George Russell, Kimi Antonelli, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Max Verstappen, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Ollie Bearman, Jack Doohan, Franco Colapinto, & Paul Aron

꩜ banner creds: bronzewasp

Oscar Piastri: nonchalant 

McLaren media days were usually long and boring, and today was no different. Thankfully, they were on the last video, reading thirst tweets? Whatever that meant. Oscar had an ipad open in front of him, and he scrolled past a tweet that read ‘face card is insane’, not really understanding what the meant, but thanking the poster anyway. The next tweet was a picture of you, and a caption, ‘can you fight @.oscarpiastri ?’. Beside the photo of you, was a particularly terrible photo of himself. He stopped, lingering on your photo. It was a photo he knew well, the photo he keeps in his wallet. You, looking like a fucking goddess in a photobooth. Him, looking like a twat. He laughed (probably too hard), and Lando joined in. 

“So this one is a photo of my fiancé, and says ‘can you fight?’,” he explained. “I’d like to think I could hold my own, especially for Y/n,” he chuckled, Lando dying of laughter beside him. “But I probably couldn’t take on all of her fans.” 

“Mate,” Lando wheezed. “You look possessed!”

“I wasn’t, I was just arguing,” he chuckled. Lando’s laughter was becoming offensive now. “I don’t look that bad!”

“Sure mate, sure,” he giggled, wiping his tears away. 

Lando Norris: Crazy town! 

He was busy scrolling on instagram, post after post of you coming up on his feed. He was not complaining. You looked so hot in every single edit, every picture, everyone agreed too. He felt his ego grow. He’d bagged you. He’d convinced you to go out with him. Holy shit. 

One caption caught his eyes though. ‘@.landonorris, can you fight?’. He frowned. Obviously. Of course he could fight. Of course he would fight. You were his girlfriend. 

He did what he did best, and commented. Probably wasn’t the best idea since Zak called him maybe 10 minutes later. 

Oops!

What was the comment, you may ask?

landonorris I can fight and fuck, why do you think she stays with me?

George Russell: actually couldn't care less 

“Can you fight George Russell?” he repeated, reading the caption of the edit. The Mercedes media team giggled behind the camera as Kimi clapped a hand on his shoulder, laughing a little too hard. “I’d hope so, considering this many people want to steal my girlfriend from me,” he chuckled. “Blimey!” he stared at the photo in front of him. It was one of his favourites, one that he’d taken. One where you’d kissed him after he took it, so happy with his work. “I know she’s beautiful, but she is my girlfriend, and the internet should remember that.” 

“Maybe you need to post her more,” Kimi shrugged. 

George rolled his eyes. “Are we really getting to the stage where Kimi is giving me social media advice? What’s he going to do next, take over my instagram for a day?”

“That’s a good idea,” he heard the social media manager mumble. He face-palmed. 

“Anyway, back to the problem at hand,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, I can fight.” 

“No you can’t!” Lando cackled from nearby. 

George just stared at the camera as everyone else laughed.

Kimi Antonelli: logical 

“Can I fight?” he read out the caption of a fan edit of you. He giggled nervously. “Why would I need to? We’re already together.” 

“It’s just something people say online,” George chuckled. “People ask me the same all the time.”

“Well, this person doesn’t even know her, right? How would they think she’d pick them over me?” 

George was laughing now, amused by how literally Kimi was taking this. “Mate, it’s a joke.”

“Well, they posted it!” Kimi argued back. “Clearly they meant something!”

George actually couldn’t respond. He was laughing too much.  “My gosh,” he tutted, scrolling past the post. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Alex Albon: secure 

“‘Can I fight?’, yes, and I will,” his voice was sharp and Carlos giggled beside him. “Y/n is my girlfriend. She wouldn’t choose you anyway, but if we must fight, yes, I would win. Next!” he sassed as he scrolled to the next post. It was another one of you and him, ‘how did he do it?’. He rolled his eyes. “My irresistible charm and handsome face,” he deadpanned to the camera and Carlos was busy dying of laughter beside him. “Next,” he scrolled again, and it was a picture of you and Alex after he proposed to you, ‘if he ever proposed to me in b-board shorts (!!!) and a linen shirt, he’s getting a no’, and he stared at the camera. “Are you fucking joking? What is wrong with that outfit?!” he demanded, as the entire media team doubled over with laughter, Carlos almost falling out of his chair. “People online are too nit-picky these days,” he shook his head.

Carlos Sainz: pisses him off lmao

He rolled his eyes as yet another thirst edit of you with an insanely graphic caption appeared on his tiktok. “Fuck’s sake,” he cursed. Your ears perked up and you started to rub his back again. 

“Alright?” you asked, eyes still on your computer, glued to whatever film you were both meant to be watching, but he’d turned over the look at his phone instead. You hadn’t seemed to mind. 

“Why do all of your fans and mine want to fight me?” he groaned, stretching his arms above his head as he turned around, burying his face in your neck. “Fucking stupid.” 

You giggled. “Not my fault I’m sexy.” 

“All your fault you’re sexy,” he said, muffled by your hoodie. His hand ventured up your hoodie, not uncommon, so you didn’t say anything. “We should release a sex tape or something-”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” you squealed, shoving his hand out from under your top. “Do you want my career to be over?!” 

He shrugged. “People could see just how much you want me,” he moved closer somehow, as you stared back at him, dumbfounded, jaw dropped. He chuckled. “That’s usually how you look when you-”

“Shut up Carlos!

Daniel Riccardo: smug bastard! 

“‘Can you fight?’, yes, but I don’t need to,” he laughed, his smile bright and smug. The photo in front of him was one of you at an Enchanté event, taking pictures with fans. You looked radiant. If only the public knew he took you home and fucked you on the counter the second you tow got in the door. 

“You don’t need to?” Max spurred him on. 

“Nope,” he proudly shook his head. “I’ve got some photos on my phone-”

“Enough!” their media manager shouted, cutting him off. “Stop talking!”

Both of them burst into laughter, doubling over. When they finally calmed down, Daniel winked at the camera. “Don’t worry, I’d never show them.”

Liam Lawson: out of his league

“Yes, I can fight,” he rolled his eyes, scrolling past it, only to be met with another one. You in various posts he’d made, photos he’d taken, days he remembered. He adored you, it was clear to anyone. You were the majority of his insta feed. “I know she’s gorgeous-”

“And out of your league,” Yuki added, smirking. 

Liam’s jaw dropped. “Fuck off!” he laughed. “She is not-! Ok, maybe yeah she is, but come on man,” he chuckled. “Give me a break!” 

“Mate, I’m just being truthful,” he shrugged. “She’s totally out of your league.”

Liam scoffed. “I know! But we don’t have to point it out!”

“I mean, we can though,” Yuki laughed. “We could also mention the fact that she asked you out, and not the other way around.”

“Well I was hardly going to ask her out, she’s out of my league!”

Max Verstappen: annoying

“Why do your fans want to fight me?”he scoffed, throwing his phone down on the bed, between you two. He turned to look at you, and you continued reading. He rolled his eyes and pulled the book out of your hands, much to your dismay. He bookmarked it and placed it on his bedside table, then turned back to you. You were scowling at him. 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Why do your fans want to fight me?” he asked again, his hands reaching for you. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you scoffed. “Give me back my book Max.”

“Come here,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs intertwining with his. He pressed his lips to yours, gently, and you melted into him. He loved this, the gentle and slow nights he got with you. Enjoying the silence you gave each other. He pulled back, a smug smile on his lips. “Your fans couldn’t do that.”

You rolled your eyes and reached behind his head, grabbing your book back. “I’d let anyone do that if it meant they wouldn’t steal my book,” you shot back, turning the other way from him. He chuckled and squeezed your ass. 

“Brat,” he smirked. 

You flipped him off in return, but he knew you were smiling. 

Charles LeClerc: so pathetic it’s insane

“I will not fight!” he announced, startling Lewis beside him. They were just meant to be replying to thirst tweets, but he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. He turned his head up to the camera, completely serious. “She chose me! She doesn’t want any of you!”

Lewis started laughing beside him, the hilarity of it all getting to him. 

“She’s my wife! Look!” he held up his ring finger with the golden wedding band you’d placed just mere months ago. He hadn’t taken it off yet. “She loves me!” 

“I think they get it mate,” Lewis chuckled. 

“They better,” he scoffed. “Right, onto the next one!”

Lewis Hamilton: lowkey freaky (actually just sassy!)

“Lewis, can you fight?!” one of the fans cheered from the side of the carpet. He rolled his eyes as you laughed, waving at the fan before starting to walk over there. Not on his watch. He pulled you back by his hand on your wrist and smirked. The crowd roared at the interaction between the two of you. 

“You’re not going over there,” he murmured. 

“I have to see what he’s offering,” you teased, your voice low so as to not be picked up by the hundreds of cameras pointed at the two of you. “Maybe it’s better-”

“Nothing is better than us,” his grip on your waist tightened. “Need me to remind you?”

“You’re talking a lot of game, old man,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Don’t forget your abilities now.” 

He scoffed in your face, his jaw dropping. “Bitch,” he sassed, making you laugh. “Don’t piss me off.”

You acquiesced, kissing his lips before taking his hand and leading him further up the carpet. 

Ollie Bearman: used to it 

“Can you fi-” he cut himself off, scrolling on. “We’re not doing that.” 

“It’s a genuine question Ollie,” Kimi nudged him. Their first interview together since they moved to F1 was meant to be about tweets on Bearelli, but it had quickly sent them down a rabbit-hole of their own girlfriends. 

“Shut up mate,” he scoffed, scrolling again and only finding more and more questions on whether or not he could keep you. Kimi just kept laughing. “You won’t be laughing in a minute when these are about you.” 

Jack Doohan: embarrassed 

Jack had learnt that Pierre was the kind of guy to keep a joke going, but he never thought it’d get this far. They had been looking at thirst tweets, and one of you had come up, asking if Jack could fight, but he’d gone bright red the second your name was mentioned. Pierre cackled beside him as he held his head in his hands, wishing for the world to swallow him up. Come race day, Pierre had hidden print-outs of the tweet all over the Alpine garage. 

“J, why is this on your wall?” you questioned as you held up one of the print-outs. 

He went bright red. Again. 

Franco Colapinto: (shockingly) normal

“So Franco, since you and your girlfriend Y/n have gone public with your relationship, many people on the internet have one question, can you fight?” the host chuckled. 

“Can I fight? Yes, yes I can fight. I don’t need to though, my girlfriend loves me,” he laughed, looking to you. You were so embarrassed, I mean, head-in-hands embarrassed. He continued on, never stopping to think about what he was saying. “No, but I do understand, my Y/n is very beautiful, and I am very lucky. I love her very much. Anyway, most people couldn’t handle her, if you get what I mean.” 

“Well said,” the host laughed, trying to continue with some sort of professionalism. “Got some brownie points there.” 

“Hopefully,” Franco winked at you, as you stood behind the camera, shocked by his statement.

Paul Aron: sassy queen! 

“‘Can I fight’? Have you seen me?” he flexed his arm up, showing off his (huge) arms, as you laughed beside him. He shook his head. “Silly, silly people,” he tutted. “It is a nice photo though, you look very beautiful,” he turned to you. 

“Thanks baby,” you murmured back, scrolling on and only seeing more calls for Paul to step aside and let others in. 

He stared the camera down as you were distracted and mouthed ‘she’s mine’ to the many viewers.

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

mclaren masterlist (OP81 &LN4)

ferrari masterlist (CL16, LH44 & AL65 )

williams & mercedes masterlist (GR63, KA12, CS55 LS2 &AA23)

redbull & vcarb masterlist (MV1, DR3 & LL40)

alpine masterlist (JD7, PA17, FC43)

[hoshifighting]

what kind of nudes they would send you? 👉🏻👈🏻

WARNINGS: smut, mentions of penis anatomy, male body anatomy.

seungcheol: one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it up right so you can see the huge length. phone propped low to catch his abs, chest, and a big delicious smile.

jeonghan: lying down, hand lazily holding his half-hard cock against his stomach, shadows doing all the work. “this good enough for you, babe?”

joshua: sheets slightly covering his cock, one hand slipping underneath like he’s just teasing himself. bonus: his pouty lips in the shot like he’s waiting for your permission to touch.

junhui: standing in front of a mirror, completely naked, flexing a little, with his dick hanging low. he’d throw in a wink too.

hoshi: a pic of his cock leaking, hand gripping it tight, his thigh muscles flexed as he props one leg up on the puff. there’s a tiger plush in the corner. it kills you, but somehow it works.

wonwoo: it’s a mirror pic in his bathroom, dick out, one hand languidly holding it, while he flexes his abs, and the veins of his hand. no caption, no emojis—just the picture. he knows it’ll have you spiraling.

woozi: accidental thirst trap. he sends you a random post-shower pic, towel slung low on his hips, wet hair clinging to his forehead, and his hard cock half-hidden. “oh, oops, didn’t mean to send that.”

minghao: taken from the side, showing off his hips, his cock semi-hard against his thigh, with some dramatic lighting in the background. the veins of his arm, and lower belly POPPING.

mingyu: another mirror whore. he’s taking the pic in his bedroom mirror, one hand stroking himself, abs and v-line shinng and you don't know if it's sweat, oil, or mosturizer. the smirk he gives is almost as cocky as his stupidly hard dick.

seokmin: the shy teaser. he sends you a pic of just the tip of his cock, all red and leaking, his hand covering the rest but barely in the frame. “is this… okay?” like, yes, it’s okay, now send the whole damn thing.

seungkwan: never thought he would send a nude, firstly. so it's aa tight shot of just his cock, leaking and red at the tip, his hand hovering like he’s debating whether to jerk off or not. “you’re making me like this, you know that?” he’s nervous, but he’s loving how wild it’ll make you.

vernon: lounging on the couch, sweatpants pushed low enough to expose his cock resting against his abs, hand casually draped over it. “so… you up?” he acts like it’s no big deal, but he’s grinning like crazy after hitting send, creating a scenario in his mind where you look at the pic while touching yourself.

chan: a full-body selfie of him sitting on the edge of the bed, cock hard and curved up against his stomach, face flushed and biting his lip. “thinking about you, noona. can I come over?”

[koskela-knights-rb]

OOooh yeah that's good 👀👌🏽👌🏽🤤

The detail about the subtle creaking of the leather jacket is so good and the boot 😳😳 I'm glad you also noticed his boots. He would definitely use them as an expression off dominance 😈

I always found Ilmari wolfish so him being (like) an animal is so fitting 🐺

AND IM VERY DELIGHTED U LIKE THE KOSKELAS TOO dflksjds

Heyy! It's Koskela-Knights signing in 👀

Wondering if you had any sfw/nsfw headcanons for Ilmari Huotari😏

The man is hot, dangerous, wears leather so well what's not to like about him 🥰

ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ Ilmari! Oh this hot murderer/cultist! What's there not to like! En olisi oikea karjalan tyttö, jos en arvostaisi suomalaisia miehiä!

look at that snarl holy moly

How the heck did I sleep on him? Seriously, I wanna bonk myself on the head for almost COMPLETLY ignoring both Koskela brothers and Huotari too on my first AW2 playthrough! I know, shockers! Now for my rambles about him, perkele...

Let's get the first thing off the table. Man. Is. POSSESIVE. Once he gets his pretty grey eyes on you - you. are. done. He will go any distance, break through any walls but he will make you HIS and his alone. Even if you don't really want that.

Assuming you want it, though? Yeah, no point in trying to pretend you don't. Ilmari is like an animal in that sense - he knows. He feels. He gets what he wants. It's not even a relationship with him - it's more of a game you two are playing. One second he is almost sweet - arm lazily drapped over your shoulder as you press your body against his, hearing the leather creak slightly - he is always showing you off to his 'gang'. The other second and you almost don't recognize him.

Especially when it comes to fucking.

Sex is another form of control for him over you.

Nothing gets him harder than to see you fully clothed and begging for him to undress you. Why would you ask him of that? Well, because your hands are tied. Right behind your back. His heavy boot would always find a place between your legs, making you grind against it, or pressing into sensitive parts, never giving you enough pleasure, but always making sure to give just enough pain to make you whimper.

It's like he was perfectly aware of his nature, of what he was. A perverted monster. A killer. An all around fucked up man.

And boy did it turned you on.

He would tease you about it once you two make it to bed. Grabbing your head and pulling it up, his puukko pressed over your neck, just a flinch and he would cut it, for sure. It just made you clench around his cock even harder - from fear, from arousal. His voice would get even deeper, more gravely as he swore and fucked you and praised you for being a good little bitch for him to take.

In his own fucked up way, without an ounce of love, he would never let you be a victim of a cult. Or let that sleazy detective even glance at your direction.

You were his and his alone, after all.

[shouyuus]

very 18+, vi-shaped, modern underground fighter!au tw: in which vi uses a vibrating strap d1ldo and also fucks ur throat

popular underground fighter vi! x reader in which vi "soft launches" your relationship with this photo posted on instagram with clear red nail marks down her back and just the caption "post fight ritual 💋" and it's obvious that her knuckles are still bruised, but someone else made those marks on her back and they're definitely not from any fight she's ever been in.

and it's not like she's a stranger to people thirsting over her posts -- she kinda knows she's hot. or at least, she's been told enough times to know it empirically, but it still stuns her a little when she catches you staring, or when she sees the way your pupils literally dilate in her presence; it's not something that she grew up hearing, always being told that she's too tomboy or that she's not feminine enough, even though her own family never cared, and they've always supported her no matter how she wanted to dress or what she wanted to do.

you, though. she doesn't know how she got so lucky with you.

she might call it a chance meeting, but later on, you'd admit that you'd had your eye on her for weeks, thought she was so, so pretty, even with all her black eyeliner and her choppily cut hair (she does it herself; oh, you could tell? why? what gave it away? the weirdly uneven buzz or the fact that she totally missed a patch at the back of her head?), and you'd put yourself squarely in the line of her sight and hoped (prayed, really) that she'd notice you.

and notice you she did.

wearing that pretty little sundress of yours, leaning up against the bar of her favorite lesbian haunt, the one she goes to nine times outta ten after her fights, the adrenaline's still high, eating through her veins, the tattoo of her pulse pressing against her ribcage.

she'd pushed off the far wall and caged you in against the dark wood of the bar, turning her charm up to eleven and hoping against hope that she wasn't just imagining things when she saw your gaze run up and down the length of her body (she wasn't).

"hey pretty. thought you might wanna take a closer look."

you'd grinned then, caught someplace between bashful and triumphant.

"but... it's so dark and so... loud," you say, letting your hand linger on her shoulder even as you put up the very convincing front of uncertainty, the blatant tease of your words the only thing cueing her off that you were picking up what she was putting down.

"yeah? then... wanna go somewhere quiet where you can... take a better look in peace?"

vi's apartment, despite all the winnings from her fights, was a modest place, a small studio in the heart of the city, though the floor the ceiling windows are really what caught your eye that first time she brought you over.

that, and the giant mirror that covered the length of an entire wall opposite the windows.

"so i can check my form," vi says when you ask, running a tall glass under the tap water, holding it out to you afterwards.

and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been expecting a hookup. and honestly, so had you. but somehow, the pair of you had just ended up curled on the couch, sitting face to face, sharing stories and laughing. the next you looked up, the pink of dawn was teasing across the far skyline and vi was frowning at the dying phone in her hand, her eyebrows hitched.

"holy shit... it's 6am."

you bury your face in the cushions of the couch, your hands still wrapped around a half-empty cup of spiked apple cider (a bottle of martinelli's at the back of her fridge, along with a half-empty thing of grey goose she'd found, tugging the cap out with her teeth), feeling the tiredness drag at your eyelids.

"oops... sorry," you grin sheepishly at her, "usually, when i keep people up all night, it's not like this."

vi laughs at your tired little innuendo, but her eyes soften when she catches you watching her. and for some stupid, unfathomable reason, she feels her cheeks heating up.

"yeah peaches. i figured. but... i don't mind being kept up like this."

your brows furrow even as a grin threatens your lips as she nudges you with her hand. you shift back, making room for her as she sits down in front of you, close enough for you to feel the heat rolling off her skin.

beyond the windows, a brilliant sunrise is peering out over the city, and the sharp, shard-drawn light of it pierces vi's studio as she reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her thumb and forefinger trailing the line of your cheek till she's coaxing your chin up towards her.

"peaches?" you ask, your breath a bit short.

"yeah," her eyes flicker towards the tiny little stud earrings you'd put in, truly miniscule peach-emojis that you'd picked to match the shade of your dress. and you laugh, the tiredness making the air around you both effervescent.

and that was the first of many nights you'd proceed to spend at vi's, though eventually, she does drag you forward to kiss you, her lips insistent against yours, with you pulling back to gasp -- "took you long enough --" against her only for her to sink her teeth into the bared skin of your neck, letting her fingers curl around the delicate pulse-point nestled there as she says --

"they say good things come to those who wait."

neither of you can truly pinpoint the moment where this... thing became something more. something that neither of you had the words or will to deny any longer.

it might've come up the first time vi pressed three fingers into your sopping cunt, her eyes fixed on the way your expression goes slack, how your hips kicked up at every curl of her expert fingers. or perhaps the first time you'd pushed her back and kissed a line down her front, lavished her body with your lips, teasing and nipping at her tits before making your slow, arduous way down to her clenching cunt, licking up the wet slit before latching your mouth around her clit and sucking hard enough for her eyes to roll out of her eye-sockets.

or maybe the first time she'd pulled out her bright pink strap, the base equipped with a vibrating function and an opposing dildo that hooked into vi's pussy as she rucked her hips into yours, fucking into you so hard that tears had creased in your lashes after she was done with you.

"fuck peaches -- you just look so good cumming on my cock, don't you?"

and that's all it takes these days, a smirk, a slap on the ass, and her voice saying peaches for you to feel your body clench over nothing, for your stomach to curl with heat, even if she's just coming over to press a kiss to your cheek or murmur against your skin, asking how your day went, though sometimes, you'd get shy and your voice would get a bit too quiet.

"c'mon, speak up, doll. and look at me when i'm talking to you, yeah?"

her fingers squeezing your jaw, just tight enough to make you gasp.

and no one questions it; bc why would they? her coach is ecstatic -- not like vi's ever been an unfocused fighter, but these days, she's in such tip-top form that he's not got much feedback for her after her long training sessions.

"whoever she is," vander says, grinning even as vi flushes and sighs (she knows it's useless to lie, vander's known her for way, way too long), "she's good for you."

he presses a hand to her shoulder, shaking her slightly, "and my advice? when you find a girl like that -- you grab on with both hands and you don't let go."

so that's what she does, and what she's still doing now. it's been months -- almost a full year since you've made it all "official", though neither of you have posted much about it online (her fans have been speculating for a while though, specially the hardcore ones, the ones who have been with her long enough to know her, to spot how she scans the crowd before and after every right, how her smile's just a bit different these days, how there seems to be one particular girl she's always winking at, always hidden in the shadows but she's always swiveling around the first thing after a fight, win or lose).

"f-fuck -- that's a good girl --" vi groans, her hips jerking against yours as she fucks you through your third orgasm of the night (she'd wone her fight that night -- as she does most nights -- and you'd come over to celebrate), your nails biting into the skin of her back, dragging down the expansive tattoo there.

she feels the burn in her own thighs, her arms flexing, the veins popping blue as she drags you down the length of the bed by your hips, fucking into you, her eyes trained on the sticky white ring at the base of her pink strap, the sight in and of itself enough to send her over the edge.

"c'mere -- open your mouth, peaches," she says, guiding you towards her even as she pulls out of you, a thick string of cum slicking off the head of her strap as she inches up the bed to position herself over your chest and shoulders.

you let your jaw fall slack, moaning thick as she presses the tip of her strap to your tongue. you blink up at her, lashes fluttering as she sinks her fingers into your hair, hissing out a long breath as you swallow around her length.

"sweet fuck that's hot..."

she pulls you over her cock in shallow thrusts, her breath growing quick as she watches the way you eagerly clean your own cum off of her with your tongue, the completely fucked out, blissed out look in your eyes as you look up at her, so utterly besotted and at her mercy.

her feels the coils twist in her gut seconds before she shoves you down over her, the combined sound of your gagging and the pinpoint vibrations of the dildo sending her right over the edge.

"shit, shit -- shit oh -- fuck... mm..."

her fingers fist in your hair as she jerks around the dildo end of the strap, tugging out of your mouth with a lazy, lopsided smile.

"such a good girl for me, hm?" she says, tugging you up for an open-mouthed kiss. you mewl against her lips, so soft, absolutely melting into her arms as she shifts the both of you into the center of the bed.

it's not till she goes to shower later, with you sound asleep in her mussed up blankets, that she sees the marks -- red and raised on her back, scratched over her tattoo. a soft smile lifts her lips as she stares at her own reflection in the mirror, her neck twisting over her shoulder to get a good look.

and before she knows it, she's grabbing her phone and turning around to snap a pic, with the full intent of keeping it just to show you in the morning but... well, she thinks as she stares down at the photo with a dopey sort of grin, her heart thudding dangerously close to her mouth.

maybe the best gift she could give you on your one-year anniversary is this -- telling the world that she's yours.

[koskela-knights]

Lmao grandma cultist 😭 also actually i need ilmo koskela to hunt me down and shoot me already 🤪

[koskela-knights]

Ilmari Murder <3

POV: Ilmari stabs you to death 😍

[demie90s]

Falu’jae X Angel X ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Mic’d Up & Outta Pocket

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: UConn vs LSU. The lights are bright, the tension is real—but #17 is focused on two things: Flau’jae and Angel Reese. Reader flirts from tip-off like her scholarship depends on it.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ:Basketball drama, unhinged locker room comedy, bisexual thirst, rivals-to-flirting-to-suspension energy

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Heavy flirting, extremely suggestive language, live broadcast exposure, gay panic, Angel + Flau flustered, reader is insane

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 0.8k

ᴠɪʙᴇ: “Mic’d up and horny” Flirting mid-game like it’s a pickup line tournament Halftime show ruins lives. Angel whispering “what the hell” while blushing. Geno pacing

There are two versions of me.

The one y’all see on the court—jersey tucked, ponytail slick, tattoos hidden under sleeves, chewing gum like I got no emotions but pure strategy?

And the one Flau’jae and Angel met tonight.

From the minute we stepped on the court, I was unhinged.

I locked eyes with Flau during warmups—her lashes long, lip gloss perfect, little chain bouncing on her chest as she bounced a ball—and I leaned in real casual and said:

“You’re lucky we’re in public, baby. I’d fold you up like a protein bar wrapper and leave you shaking.”

She laughed. Loud. Like I was playing.

Angel caught it. She raised a brow.

So I turned to her next. “And you,” I grinned, “look like you’d hold me down while she rides. You give… ‘keep her quiet, I’m trying to focus’ vibes.”

Angel blinked. Jaw flexed. Said nothing.

But she heard me.

Oh, she heard me.

⸻

First quarter, I’m guarding Flau full court. Close. She’s talking her usual smack. Fast. Confident.

“You gon’ lose tryna keep up wit me.”

“You gon’ moan if I breathe too close,” I shoot back.

She fumbles the next pass.

I blow her a kiss and jog away like I didn’t just ruin her entire nervous system.

⸻

Second quarter, I’m posted under the rim, next to Angel during free throws. She’s got that stance—one leg forward, locked in, serious face. I lean in.

“You know I got enough stamina to handle both of y’all, right?”

She doesn’t move.

So I lean closer.

“I’d let Flau ride while I hold your throat. One hand on you. One hand on her. I’d switch positions between water breaks.”

Angel bricks the free throw.

And the only reason she doesn’t swing on me is because she’s too stunned.

⸻

By halftime, my whole team knows I’m on demon time. KK won’t even stand near me. Paige is red in the face. Geno doesn’t say shit—he’s pacing like he already regrets recruiting me. The locker room is quiet. Except me. I’m calm. Stretching. Reapplying my gloss.

And then it happens.

The stadium lights dim. The jumbo screen flickers on.

“EXCLUSIVE LOCKER ROOM MIC’D UP—UCONN BEHIND THE SCENES.”

Flashes of us from earlier. Laughing. Lacing up. And then it cuts to me. Sitting on the bench. Calm. Legs crossed. Braid in my lap.

The room goes quiet. The arena leans in.

And then they hear it. Clear as day. Full volume.

“If I ever get the chance? I’m doing both Angel and Flau at the same time. Like—it’s not even a threesome. That’s a mission. That’s cardio. That’s spiritual.”

The camera zooms on my face. I’m not smiling. Not laughing. Just serious.

“I’d start slow. Warm ‘em up. Let Flau sit on my face while Angel leans back on my chest. We rotate every ten minutes. Water. Electrolytes. Back in.”

Someone gasps in the room.

Another voice—KK’s—says, “Yo, what is wrong with you?!”

I just shrug on screen.

“Y’all be thinking I’m joking when I stretch before games. Baby, I stretch for them.”

The screen cuts.

Dead silence.

My team is frozen. LSU’s bench is staring at me like I just pulled out a weapon. The entire stadium is vibrating with secondhand panic.

Flau’jae looks stunned. Angel? Jaw clenched. Eyes locked.

I pull my hoodie up over my head. Real slow.

And I turn to the camera like I’m in a commercial and say, real calm:

“Oops.”

———

Second Half – LSU vs UConn

The entire stadium’s still recovering. That mic’d-up halftime clip did damage. Real damage. And yet—I walk back out on the court like it never happened. Ponytail high. Glare low. Lips still shiny. And still on bullshit.

LSU tries to act like they’re focused, but I see it. Flau can’t make eye contact. Angel keeps adjusting her jersey like her skin’s hot. I smirk. Because now they know what’s on my mind. And worse? I meant it.

Third quarter starts. I’m guarding Angel now. She’s taller, stronger, but I’m quicker—and unbothered.

“Still thinking about what I said?” I whisper as she posts up. “It wasn’t just locker room talk, baby. That was a promise.”

She shoves back harder. Elbow grazing me. I lick my lips.

“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll have to rearrange your schedule.”

She bricks the shot. Doesn’t even follow through.

⸻

Next possession, Flau comes off a screen—I trail her tight. Too tight.

“You smell good,” I murmur behind her ear.

She actually fumbles. Like legit turns the ball over mid-dribble. Her whole neck turns red. Angel yells her name. I blow her a kiss.

⸻

By the fourth quarter, I’m everywhere. Stealing passes. Dishing assists. Running the floor like I own it. But every glance, every smile, every time I tuck my shirt behind my waistband—it’s aimed at them. LSU can’t focus. They came to win. I came to distract, destroy, and then post about it.

And I do. We win. UConn by eight.

I dap my teammates up, nod at Geno (who refuses to look me in the eye), and glance once more across the court. Flau’s got her hands on her hips, head shaking. Angel won’t even sit down. Just staring at me like she’s plotting revenge or reconsidering her entire life.

⸻

Postgame, 1 hour later.

I’m in my hotel room. Showered. In a towel. Looking like trouble. I open TikTok.

Pull up the sound.

“Thirsty, baby, bring it over here

Thirsty, baby, bring it over here

Ching, ching, gettin’ paid over here…”

The video starts. Just a slow pan—my smirk in the mirror,

Then me, smirking, mouthing:

“I wanna kiss you, girl, I wanna kiss you…”

Final clip? Me in the mirror, straight face.

“Fuck that.”

Caption: Meant ever word

Flau liked it.

Angel sent a DM.

——

@draculara-vonvamp