#or spiral internally take your pick~

[randomfoggytiger]

"How Much You're Like Ahab"

(Fictober, Day 8)

A nice little fic piece to distract from the shadow banning madness.

*****

Not that Mulder wasn't entertained by the thought of both he and Scully eating sundry foods at various crime scenes-- and he was very insistent that Scully eating roachlike choco chunks counted as much as the one time he licked sugary blood off a corpse-- but he wondered, as he gazed into the eerie glow of the bubbly fish tank, if that extended to their pets as well.

Pets take after their people, though Scully argued that eating the dead body of his former owner had not been a slight on Queequeg's overall character nor did it correlate back to her specific qualifications or macabre career path. And it was a fish-- or something near it-- that had eaten Queequeg. Logically, a twisted parallel could be drawn from his pets, his choices, and her consequences.

Or so Mulder thought as he dipped his finger into the tank, letting it swim with the fishes.

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

[sluttywonwoo]

color me like you || l.jh

pairing: lee jihoon x f reader

summary: you put your heart into every piece of jewelry you make, so why does it only hurt when they're for him?

warnings: swearing, some jealousy, smidgen of religious imagery, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex

word count: 5.3k

author’s note(s): for @sluttywoozi's birthday <33 ilyyy

this was the hardest fic i've ever written ;-; idk why but it just kept fighting me the whole time // also did not mean to be so heavy-handed with the rubies it just sort of happened

“What would you pick?” 

Every single fucking time. It was like he didn’t know what he was doing by asking you that. And maybe he didn’t. 

Lee Jihoon’s consultations were your least favorite part of (nearly) every month. And it wasn’t because he was a rude customer or a schmuck just looking to blow his money or anything like that- but because month after month he waltzed into your place of work and bought a custom piece for someone who wasn’t you even though he never failed to ask you that god damn question.

It wasn’t like it was uncommon for jewelers to get asked that. In fact, it was rather common. Men tended to view women as a monolith, accepting any opinion from whoever was nearest as a reflection of their partners’ solely based on the other party’s gender. 

But with Jihoon it’s different. It was like Jihoon actually cared what you had to say about it, like it mattered what you thought of his decisions even though you were the one designing the piece and not receiving it. 

It sends you into a mini spiral every time. Every time he walks through the door, eyes automatically searching for you. Every time he sits down in front of you and leans over your desk to get a closer look at your work and you catch a whiff of the expensive cologne dotted at his pulse points. Every time you have to gaze into his deep brown eyes and swallow the jealousy rising in your throat as you bare your soul to him laid out on a satin pillow for him to take and give to someone else. 

You already know who it is once you see that the VIP Room is booked on your schedule. You groan internally, cursing the man as you run through all of your preparations. There isn’t much to do because almost everything is already ready for you but you try to stay busy anyway, finding yourself checking the clock on the wall over and over again until the bell above the door finally chimes to signal his arrival. 

Your back is to the door and you don’t turn around right away even though you know he’s seen you. You can feel his gaze on you. It’s piercing yet magnetic in the way things like glass and icicles are-  deceptively alluring, sharp enough to draw blood. 

When you do finally turn to face him, you note that he’s flanked by a security guard, not unusual for him but unsettling to you nonetheless. You don’t know what he does for work. You’ve never asked. Better not to get attached is what you told yourself, not that you were having much luck with that. 

Jihoon smiles politely at you and you return the nicety, gesturing to the door behind the counter for him to follow you. 

The lights in the showroom are dim as always. The dark, velveted walls seem to be absorbing what little light the decorative lamps are effusing. The walls are lined with built-in display cases, illuminating their contents and nothing else. 

In the middle of the room sits a desk, with a chair on either side. You take your place behind the desk and wait for Jihoon to sit before doing the same. He’s ditched his shadow so the two of you are alone, something you try not to think about as you organize your tools in front of you. 

“How have you been?” Jihoon asks, his voice breaking the silence but doing little to ease the tension between you. 

“I’ve been well,” you answer. It’s an honest answer, for the most part. “And yourself?”

“Busy,” he sighs, “but good.”

You fold your hands on the desktop in front of you, letting its cold surface ground you. You can already feel yourself starting to sweat even though the showroom’s the coldest place in the store. “So, what are we doing today?”

“A bracelet,” Jihoon says. 

“For you or someone else?”

You never ask your clients who their orders are for. In your profession, you’ve learned that being too nosy, even in good conscience, can be dangerous. You’ll ask if the piece is for the client themselves,  if it’s to celebrate a specific occasion, and what the person’s tastes are but little else. If they offer the information voluntarily, so be it. 

“Someone else.”

You grit your teeth as you ask the next question. “Do you have their measurements?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer right away. 

“Not exactly. It doesn’t need to be a perfect fit. They, uh, have about the same size wrist as me.”

“Then I’ll ask you to hold out your wrist for me…”

He extends his arm across the space between you, pale skin almost translucent under your Circline light. 

“Which way,” he turns his hand for you, “palm up or down?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He leaves his palm skyward like he’s waiting for you to take his hand but you wrap the tapeline around his wrist instead, bringing the magnifier closer to get an exact measurement. You make a mental note of the number and definitely not of the way his fingers are long and calloused and-

“That’s really pretty.”

Jihoon’s voice startles you out of your unprofessional thoughts, making you jump a little in your seat. He grins apologetically. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you how pretty I think your ring is.”

Your eyes flit down to the piece of jewelry on your finger, a thin gold band looped around a few times like a wiry piece of thread. In between the strands of gold are three gems, diamond, alexandrite, and tourmaline, set in what looks to be random spots. You’ve worn it every day since you finished it but no one had ever commented on it until now. 

“Was it a gift?” Jihoon asks. 

“No, I made it.”

“I should’ve known,” he sighs. 

You want to ask him what he means by that but you know his answer will only make you more delusional. 

You release the end of the measuring tape and roll it back up, replacing it in its spot in your drawer and pulling out a leather bound notebook instead. You flip to a blank page and jot down Jihoon’s measurements along with the few details he’s told you thus far about the piece he wants made. 

“Do you have an idea of what you want your bracelet to look like?” you ask, swiftly changing the subject. “Or should I show you some of my previous designs?”

“I think I have an idea but I don’t know how to describe it.”

“How about I show you some pieces and you tell me if they’re similar to what you had in mind?”

“That sounds perfect.”

You stand from the desk and turn around to face the display cases behind you. There’s an assortment of original jewelry pieces made by you and your colleagues to choose from but you only select ones you’ve made, knowing Jihoon would instantly be able to tell the difference. It’s happened enough times before. 

You walk him through each of your selections, making note of what he points out about each of them. From his musings, you gather that he wants an argentium silver chain— thick enough to be inlaid with stones but not too thick that it would become too heavy or gaudy. 

Listening to him talk about the piece made you smile despite the envy twisted around your heart. He had started to pick up on the terminology after coming here for so many months and seemed so much more confident about his knowledge of it all. It was apparent in the way he held himself now during consultations. 

You get all of the initial details about the body of the piece squared away before moving on to the finer ones. Categorizing the steps like this helps you stay organized.  

“And do you know which stones you want embedded in the bracelet?” you ask. 

Jihoon rubs his thumb across his lips in thought. “I thought I did, but after seeing that,” he pauses to point at a necklace you’d shown him, “I’m having second thoughts.” The necklace he’s referring to is set similarly to the style of the bracelet, only gold and lined with rubies. 

“What was your first choice?” 

“Amethyst. Since it’s a birthday gift, I thought I’d go with their birthstone, but now I’m torn. What would you pick?”

There it was, the dreaded question. It was like he’d been holding a knife to your throat this entire time and finally decided to draw blood. Still, you answer like you always do. 

“I’m partial to amethyst,”  you admit, “and there’s the added significance of it being their birthstone, but the rubies would make more of a statement. It really depends on what kind of person you’re buying for. Are they a sentimental person or a flashy person?”

“They’re both,” Jihoon groans, putting his head in his hands. Then, after a moment, he sits back up. “But I think they’d like the rubies more. I feel like those evoke a more dramatic aura, if that makes sense.”

“It does. Rubies are associated with power and passion.” They’re also associated with romance but you choose not to mention that part. “In some cultures, they were believed to protect the wearers as well.”

“That’s perfect then.”

You clasp your hands together and force a smile. “Great! Do you want them around the entire band of the bracelet? From clasp to clasp?”

“What would two-thirds look like?”

“Let me show you.”

You discuss the size, cut, and spacing of the stones before calculating a price and timeline for the piece. You give Jihoon the receipt that states how much he owes today and how much he’ll owe when he comes to pick it up, circling the pick up date with your pen. 

He pays with his black card, the one you’ve become accustomed to swiping every time you see him. You expect him to leave promptly after the payment, that’s what usually happens, but he doesn’t. He lingers a little awkwardly as you put the jewelry back in their display cases, hesitating by the door like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Jihoon?” you ask him eventually, “is everything okay?”

You refer to most of your clients by their surnames but Jihoon had asked you not to the very first time you met. “It makes me feel old,” he’d explained with a laugh. 

Now, he laughs again. This time, it’s a nervous laugh, one that draws confusion and sets your own nerves on edge. 

He swallows harshly. “I know this may be entirely inappropriate, but I promised myself I wouldn’t leave today without asking if you would go to dinner with me.”

“W-what?”

“Go to dinner with me?” he repeats, this time in the form of an actual question. 

You blink. “For real?”

“Um, yes? Unless your answer is no, then no, not for real.”

You put both hands on your desk to brace yourself, unsure what to make of his request. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused. Why would you want to go to dinner with me?”

“Because I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?!”

Jihoon clears his throat a little bashfully. “Yes, I thought that was implied when I invited you to dinner.”

“Dinner could mean a lot of things! Maybe it was a business proposal.”

He chuckles. “I’m a music producer, I don’t know what kind of business I’d have with a jeweler.”

It doesn’t even dawn on you that you’ve finally found out what he does for work because you’re so overwhelmed by the fact that he’s asking you out to comprehend anything else. You can hardly comprehend this. 

“You want to go on a date with me?”

“I- uh, I’ve been coming here for months just to see you. I mean, I was really getting gifts for people but they don’t give a fuck about what I buy them for their birthdays as long as it’s expensive... they don’t really care about the different gems and settings and shit.” You’re still processing his words when Jihoon lifts his head to peek at your reaction. “Are you... upset?”

“Upset? No, I’m relieved!”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?”

“This whole time I thought you were getting gifts for your partner, or partners, I thought you were taken.”

You watch the corners of Jihoon’s mouth quirk up into a smile as he realizes what you’re saying. “And that upset you?”

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“You like me back?” 

“Yes. It’s been terrible.”

“Pardon?” he chokes out. 

“Imagine the roles were reversed,” you explain, “I’m coming to you every month, getting to know you better and you’re learning more and more about me, I’m flirting with you, you’re starting to feel like we’re getting closer-”

“Only for you to buy the jewelry for someone else,” he concludes for you with a grimace, “presumably a romantic partner. Yeah, okay I can see how that would be miserable.”

“But then, who have these even been for this whole time?!” you blurt out, finally breaking your number one rule. 

“I’ll explain everything over dinner,” Jihoon promises. 

“But when is dinner?”

“What time does your shift end?”

-

Jihoon does explain everything over dinner, as promised. He gave you some time after work to get ready for the date and then picked you up from your place in a town car. He’d told you before that he’s never felt the need to get a drivers license, that public transport and ride services were plenty to get him to where he needed to go, and that he seldom left the house anyway. You offered to drive to dinner since you did have both a car and a license but Jihoon astutely refused, saying that while he wasn’t very old fashioned, he was the one who asked you out and he’s always liked the idea of a more traditional first date. 

Dinner is at a restaurant you’ve never even heard of but apparently has a Michelin star. The food and mocktails are delicious, but truthfully the last thing on your mind as you stare across the table at your date. He’s dressed in all black, like usual, but had chosen an outfit that was much more formal than what you were used to seeing him in: pressed slacks and a dress shirt that was buttoned just low enough to show off a hint of collarbone, cleavage, and a chain you recognize as one you’d crafted for him almost a year ago. 

He almost always wore a hat when visiting your store but tonight he’s forgone the baseball cap and swept his long hair back in a half up, half down sort of manner. There’s product in it but a few wisps of his bangs have escaped the hold of the gel and hang in front of his eyes. 

You briefly wonder if he’d let you style his hair, if he’d let you braid it back. He’d look so pretty with french braids-

At the end of the meal, after he’s paid, he asks the question. Not the question, the one you’re always dreading, but a new one that makes your heart beat just as fast. 

“Are you doing anything after this?” 

You take a sip of your drink, ignoring the watered down taste in order to keep the air of suspense. “That depends, what are you doing?”

-

Jihoon’s apartment is closer than yours. It’s in the middle of the city, nestled safely above the bustling crowds and chaos of the streets beneath it. You would call it a penthouse but it isn’t on the top floor of the building nor does it have a terrace- the point is, it’s bigger than the house you grew up in. You can tell just from standing in the doorway with all the lights off. The floor to ceiling windows lined all along the far wall give it away. They let in just enough light from the billboards and neon street signs below to cast shadows in the corners of the room that emphasize its depth. 

There’s music playing softly throughout the apartment when you enter.

“I wasn’t expecting this to happen,” Jihoon insists as he scrambles to turn on some lamps. “I swear, I just always have music playing.”

“Sure,” you tease him, bending down to slip out of your heels. 

You’re still a few inches taller than him without them on but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. You certainly don’t. “I can turn it off if you’d prefer,” he offers. 

“No, that’s okay. I like having it on when-” you stop yourself mid-sentence, cheeks blooming with heat. You had been about to say, ‘when I’m having sex,’ and Jihoon seems to fill in the blank himself from the way he smirks at you. 

“Really? That’s good to know.”

You’re too flustered to think of a witty response so you just pucker your lips like you do when you don’t know what to say and hope he can’t tell how insane with lust his answer just made you. 

The lapse in his gentlemanly manner is brief and before things can go too far he takes your coat and purse and leads you to the couch in the living room. You sit and watch as he crouches in front of the fireplace, rolling up his sleeves. It’s a gas fireplace so all he has to do is turn the dial to the desired strength, there’s no soot or ash or really anything that would make him dirty, but you appreciate the view of his arms nonetheless. 

You know Jihoon is a big fitness buff. It’s one of the first things he ever told you, apologizing for how sweaty he was as he shook your hand and introduced himself. It’s been hard not to let that knowledge distract you whenever you see him now. You’ve caught yourself ogling his biceps and quads (and ass) an unhealthy amount of times in your consultations. You can let yourself get distracted tonight, though. Now that he’s not your client and you’re the girl he’s brought home. Now that he’s got his forearms out on display specifically for you to ogle. 

He joins you on the couch a moment later, creating a respectful distance between you. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks suddenly. “I don’t have any alcohol in the house because I don’t really drink but I could make you something like we had at dinner. I also have Coke Zero and water and-”

You put your hand out to stop him, relieved to know he’s just as nervous as you are. “Water would be great, thanks.” 

“Ice?”

“If you have it.”

“I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t,” he points out. 

“Right. That’s... right.”

He laughs affectionately and touches your knee as he goes to stand from the sofa. His hand is warmer than you expect, making you suck in a quick breath that makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his before his gaze shifts to your lips. 

“Do you... still want that water?” 

Your mouth does feel dry but for an entirely different reason. 

“Maybe later.”

-

He’s on top of you as soon as your back hits the mattress, strong thighs straddling your hips. His hair falls into his eyes and subsequently yours as he leans down and gently cups your face. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, kiss me,” you gasp, pulling him into you before he does. 

Jihoon groans the instant your lips touch his, grinding into you almost involuntarily. It isn’t long until you’re moaning too, practically writhing underneath him as he kisses you like he’s found God.

Everything about him is soft, except his hands. His voice, his tongue, his touch. His hands leave your cheeks and start to explore the rest of your body, grazing your chest and hips over your dress. 

His fingers skim the hem of it and dip just below the seam, lifting the fabric from your thighs before letting it float back down.You don’t know if he’s teasing you on purpose but it’s driving you crazy. You’ve wanted him for so long now that his self control feels cruel, like he’s dangling himself just out of reach. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” he says, running a hand through his hair. 

“I honestly wanted you to get more carried away,” you admit.

“Really?”

“I thought I was making it obvious.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” he mumbles through a smug grin, “and I didn’t know how far you wanted to go tonight.”

“I want to go as far as you want to go,” you assure him. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You’re not typically one to sleep with someone on a first date, not for any religious, moral (or internally misogynistic) reason, you just don’t like being that vulnerable with someone you’ve just met. You’ve also found sex to be a lot more enjoyable with someone you feel connected to. 

So even though it’s technically your first date with Jihoon, you’ve known him for what feels like half of an eternity and craved him for every single moment of it. You aren’t going to deny yourself what you’ve longed for for ages. 

“In that case, can I eat you out?” he asks.

“Fuck yeah you can.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs as he positions himself between your legs and pushes your dress up to your hips.

“Really?” you sigh.

Jihoon kisses the inside of your thigh and then hums against it. “Mhm, every single time we were alone in that dark room I’d just think about crawling under that table and spreading your legs apart...” 

“You should have.”

Jihoon scoffs. “You would have gotten fired.”

“Worth it.”

“But isn’t this much better?” he asks, pressing his tongue over your panties. “I can take my time with you and you can be as loud as you want...”

Jihoon repeats the motion with his tongue and you whimper as if to prove his point. He’s barely done anything and your panties are already soaked through. To be fair, you’ve been wet since dinner but that was his doing too. All he had to do was look pretty and you were melting for him. 

“Want me to take these off?” he asks.

“God, please.”

“Here, lift up for me then, perfect. Now put your legs over my shoulders... good, just like that.”

He drowns himself in you, worshiping your cunt with his lips and his tongue and his entire being. He takes his time tasting all of you before moving on to what he knows you’re actually waiting for. You try to be patient, you know he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have, and it feels good... you just need more. 

He does give you more, eventually. His tongue dips inside of you when you’re least expecting it and your thighs clamp around his head in surprise. He’s completely unfazed by this, and pries them apart with ease, holding your legs open as he continues to drink you in. 

He switches between tongue fucking you and sucking on your clit a few times to figure out which you like more, settling on a pattern that has his name echoing off the walls of his bedroom. 

You can barely hear the music playing over the obscene sounds he’s making as he eats you out but you find you actually prefer them anyway. 

His mumbling is incoherent, muffled by you in every sense of the word. Still, you can tell he’s praising you, encouraging you to surrender to the pleasure. 

It doesn’t take much convincing because he has you on the edge in record time. No man has ever gotten you so close so fast, you don’t even think you’ve made yourself cum this fast and you have that shit down to a science. It’s over for you as soon as he adds his fingers into the mix. You wanted to hold off a little longer just to prove a point but Jihoon has his own point to prove.

You don’t necessarily need penetration to get off but having something to cum around does make orgasms stronger for you. He must know this, or at least have an inkling, because he pushes two fingers inside of you right when your breath catches in your throat and your body locks up and your vision starts to blur…

-

“Baby- is it okay if I call you baby? Are you alright?”

It’s more than okay, you think to yourself and then you realize the disembodied voice that sounds a lot like Jihoon’s is actually expecting an answer.

You open your eyes the tiniest bit to see a very wet, very concerned-looking Jihoon hovering above you. 

“You can call me whatever you want,” you tell him. 

“That wasn’t really the important question out of the two,” he sighs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great!”

He breathes a sigh of relief and collapses against your shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” you laugh. “Aren’t we going to keep going?” 

Jihoon lifts his head and gives you a look. “You just came so hard you blacked out, don’t you want to take a break?” 

You shake your head. “No? Why would I?” 

His lips part and he sputters, “because you just-”

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, but I promise I’m fine. I’ve never been better.” 

“Never?” 

“Never ever.”

“So… I can kiss you again?” 

“As many times as you want.” 

The power you’ve bestowed on him in that one sentence immediately goes to his head and he spends the next several minutes pressing kisses into your skin as he undresses both you and himself. 

He kisses you in between every piece of clothing that comes off, every button of his shirt that he undoes, dragging out every moment until you’re both completely naked save for your ring and his necklace (and a condom). 

He’s huge, unsurprisingly. What is surprising is how hard he is already. You knew he was turned on, you could feel him through his pants when you were making out and he was grinding into you, but you didn’t realize it was like this. You haven’t even touched him and his cock is rock hard and flushed at the tip. Did he get that worked up just from giving you head? Just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter...

He pumps himself a few times before easing into you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he struggles to keep his composure. You aren’t faring any better, hands flying to his biceps when he bottoms out. The stretch is more intense than you’re expecting. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your head. All you can do is lay there on the satin sheets and feel as Jihoon makes himself a part of you.     

“Are you okay?” you hear him ask distantly, voice trembling. 

“I’m perfect,” you manage to respond. 

“You are,” he agrees.

Your brows wrinkle in confusion as you try to blink him back into focus. Hm?”

He just smiles and pets your hair gently. “Don’t worry about it.”

“O-okay.”

“Am I good to start moving?” 

“Yes, yes please fuck me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull his body even closer just in case he needs further convincing, gasping in relief when he finally does start to move. It’s slow at first, experimental. You’re still sensitive from cumming so every sensation is heightened. Every stroke feels better than the last and you can only hope it feels just as good for Jihoon. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, “how are you so fucking wet?”

“I really like you,” you laugh, “and you’re so good at, like, everything! It’s unfair and it’s, fuck, not my fault.”

“I really like you too,” he confesses, starting to fuck you harder. You expect him to elaborate but he doesn’t, not right away. Instead, he lets his body do the talking for him while he busies his mouth with yours. You can still taste yourself on his lips along with traces of your lipgloss and chapstick that he’d long since kissed off. It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating.

When he raises his head and puts a hand on the headboard to steady himself, the necklace you’d made him dangles right in front of your face, the cross pendant just inches from your nose. He grabs it with his free hand and puts the charm between his teeth so that it won’t hit you, smirking at the way your eyes roll back.

“You like that?” 

 “Fuck you.”

He laughs, then mumbles, “God, you’re so hot. I’m so fucking close already.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, down into another kiss. The chain still in his mouth presses into your lips, the cold metal a striking difference from the heat of your bodies. 

“Please tell me you’re close too,” he whispers.  

“So fucking close.”

You just need a little more to get you over that edge again. You release one of your arms from around his neck and snake it in between yourselves to rub your clit but Jihoon pushes it away and replaces it with his own. He repeats the same motions with his fingers that he’d done with his tongue, begging you to cum with him. 

“Let go for me, baby,” he urges, “wanna cum together. Please let me feel you.”

You don’t black out this time but you do cry, fingernails digging into his back as you fall apart under him. Jihoon fucks you through it, helping you both ride it out. He’s shaking by the time the aftershocks pass and carefully lays himself on top of you like a blanket so that you can both catch your breath. 

“S-sorry, I thought I’d last a lot longer,” he apologizes sheepishly. “Next time I will. Maybe. Your pussy is crazy though so you can’t hold me to that.”

“You’ve got such a way with words,” you scoff. 

“What can I say, I’m a songwriter. It’s in my blood.” 

You snort and push him off you, searching your phone. Your best friend had probably alerted you missing to the authorities by now after not hearing from you for however many hours it’d been since you last updated her. You find your phone under one of the pillows and see a barrage of texts from her and the groupchat just like you predicted. Snitch. You would have to grovel later, though, because Jihoon had gotten up to start the shower and returned to get you now that the water was warm. 

He helps you step into the basin and shows you how to adjust the temperature in case it isn’t to your liking before asking if you want him to stay. You do, and you point out that he needs to shower too so it would be more efficient if you showered together anyway. 

He joins you without a second’s hesitation, kissing your shoulder from behind as he begins to gently lather your body with soap. You return the favor after he’s done with you and soon enough he’s wrapping you and himself up in plush white towels he’d grabbed from the warmer next to the shower.  

“Stay the night?” he asks as he dries you off.

You don’t have anything you need with you because you hadn’t planned on spending the night. It’s usually impossible to sleep without your overnight essentials but you’re honestly so exhausted you think you could fall asleep standing up. 

“Don’t feel like you have to,” he adds when he senses your hesitation. 

“No, I want to,” you assure him. “I just wasn’t expecting to have a sleepover so I don’t have any of my things.”

“I have an extra toothbrush,” he supplies helpfully, like that’s the only thing that could have been preventing you from making a decision. 

You smile, trying not to laugh. “Thank you, that’d be great.”

He smiles back. “Anything for you.”

this was something kind of different but i hope you liked it bestie <3 can't wait to hear your thoughts i love youuuu

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #1

Requested by @shinestarhwaa

Content/Warnings : Overstimulation, Daddy kink (used twice), fingering, eating out, lots of nicknames

A/n : Picking Hwa cause he's the one on the list (AND HWA HAS BEEN ON MY BACK LATELY TOO)

Seonghwa’s plumpy lips press down on your inner thighs, meeting in an open-mouthed kiss. His lips glide ever so smoothly over your skin, completely contradicting the hasty movements of his fingers inside your cunt. Your boyfriend had promised you for a lovely dinner which would end with a lusty night, he surely knew how to keep his promises. He was so focused on making you cum at least thrice before he got to letting his cock out of its confines.

“Hwa, ‘m s-sensitive” The man between your legs barely paid any mind to your words and whimpers. His attention focused on leaving dark love bites across your thighs, all for him to admire his masterpiece later. “I know you can take it baby, you wanna be my good girl tonight don’t you?” Your boyfriend knew the exact selection to bring you down to his mercy at any time.

His words turn-on a certain switch in your brain, as your legs part further for his access making his lips curl up against your skin. His fingers spiral inside you, hitting at your G-spot for the third time that night. Your back arches off the bed, and your hair sticks to your forehead due to the beads of sweat rolling down.

And there it was. Just as your eyes rolled back in pleasure, you felt like you saw stars from having experienced your third orgasm for the night. Your legs convulse in pleasure, and your breathing is interrupted by your restless moans. The sound emanating from you has Seonghwa’s cock twitching in his pants as he bites down on your soft flesh to hide his grunt.

“You sound so fucking hot baby, am I pleasing you this well? If only you could look at the way you are twitching right now.” Your back slowly rests back on the soft mattress, and your thighs try to close around his hand only for his hands to keep you open again.

You almost let out a screech when you feel your boyfriend’s lips on your clit. God were you so wrong about him letting you go after three orgasms, perhaps his goal was to make you pass out from cumming on his tongue. “You can give me one more can’t you baby? Don't you wanna be my good girl? Daddy just wants to please you babygirl.”

Fuck. You curse internally at the usage of that nickname, god did you want to be a good girl for me, may it be if you have to cum till you pass out. “Y-yes Daddy” He lets his tongue lick a strip up your pussy as soon as you let out your words, “My pretty girl tastes so good doesn’t she? Such a good girl for me baby, letting me pleasure this cute little pussy even if you're so pathetic from overstimulation.”

You could barely get words out with the way his fingers rubbed at your hole rhythmically with his tongue lapping at your cunt. And within seconds from your third orgasm, Seonghwa has you clenching down to your fourth. "Now, How about one more, my pretty girl?”

[Kinkmas]

©️ wooyoungmybelovedhusband.

[jezabelle9299]

Moving day S.R x fem! reader

Overture- Reader is moving into a neighborhood where a serial killer is hunting down women living alone, so when the FBI shows up on her doorstep she gets assigned protective custody from one Dr. Spencer Reid

*Includes references to season 1 episode 18 "Someone's watching" but this is season 3 or later

You were finally getting space away from your family, you’d finally saved up enough. You were able to actually buy a small house, as a mortgage payment ended up being cheaper than rent. You may be living it up in a two bedroom now, but you were no heiress. Movers were out of the question, you rented a small moving truck and set out to do a 24 hour moving day. You’d painted, picked up all of your second hand furniture, all of your packed boxes, and changed the locks. You’d just finished moving the first set of boxes inside when a black suv pulled in behind you in the driveway. An older gentleman came out and made a beeline towards you, with a man that looked like he could be his son trailing behind him. 

“My name is Agent Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” You’d lived here a minute and a half and federal agents were knocking on your door. Your mother would have a stroke if you told her, so you focused on the younger guy who was about your age instead of letting your mind spiral with the possibilities of why they’re here. 

“Sure, what can I do for you?” Your attention was pulled from the Dr. Reid, who’d yet to speak, when his colleague spoke up again. 

“Can we come in?” The last thing you wanted was strangers in your house, but they had badges so you felt like you couldn’t realistically say no. Plus they could at least help you unload a couple of boxes while they talked. 

“Sure, but everyone needs to grab a box first, I’m on a bit of a tight timeline.” 

“Understood.” They each grabbed a box, and you did a small internal celebration that they grabbed the boxes of books you’d been dreading carrying inside. You grabbed one of the smaller ones, full of clothes instead. Once you arrived you sat down on the arm of your couch, gesturing for them to sit on the two chairs you’d picked up earlier that day. 

“Thank you for getting those, I appreciate it. What can I do for you?” The younger man spoke up for the first time since he’d been there.

“We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us about the neighborhood.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you. Unfortunately the moving boxes aren’t really for decoration. I’ve lived here for less than a day.” 

“We actually think you could be in a unique position to help, because you haven’t lived here long.You would be more acutely aware of the behavior of your neighbors because you aren’t used to it.” 

“Alright, then by all means, ask away.” The younger man asked almost all of the questions, with the older Agent Rossi taking diligent notes in his notepad. He started with questions of your interactions with your neighbors, but then shifted to the crime that brought him there. Someone had been targeting young women who lived alone in the few blocks surrounding your house. 

“Would you be comfortable coming to the station to be put in protective custody?” You’d say yes in a heartbeat if it was any other day. Especially if it meant being in Dr.Reid’s orbit. You weren’t big into dating, yet there was something–compelling about him. But this was quite possibly the busiest day you’d had in the last year. 

“No, I’m sorry but I can’t. I’ve still got boxes to unpack, furniture to put together, I can’t just pick up and leave.” 

“Understood. Give us just one second.” Agent Rossi chimed in, pulling Dr. Reid aside while you checked your phone. Well, mostly staring at the homepage while eavesdropping on their hushed conversation. They were terrible at whispering.

“Why don’t you stay here with her? You can help us over the phone if we need it, and she fits the victimology.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She’s a little bit distracting. Maybe you should stay with her.”

“That’s exactly why you should stay with her, have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear she wouldn’t even notice I was here if I didn’t talk first.”  

The young man eventually relented, although he still seemed a bit pouty about the whole thing. Then Agent Rossi turned his attention back to you, and you pretended not to have been eavesdropping on the whole thing. You couldn’t tell if he was buying it.

“How would you feel about Dr. Reid offering you protective custody here? You could go about your business, Dr. Reid would just keep an eye out for you.” 

“Yeah that’d be fine, if he’s ok with it? It certainly won’t be interesting, you know, unless someone does decide to kill me.” He paled for a second before realizing it was a joke. You nudged him with your elbow, and then he finally let out a shaky exhale. Not really a laugh, but you’ll take it. Agent Rossi just gave you a smile and pat Dr. Reid on the shoulder. 

“You kids have fun.” Then when the door was mostly closed behind him, he opened it back up to say “Not too much fun.” before laughing to himself all the way to the car. You pulled the tape off of one of the boxes before unloading some of your books onto the shelves you put up that morning. 

“So Dr. Reid, what favor did you owe him to get stuck with me? Did you lose a bet or something?” 

“You–uh, you can just call me Spencer, and why would you think I wouldn’t want to be here?” 

“Why would you? I mean, it must be exciting being in the FBI and all, if it were me I wouldn’t want to babysit a fully grown adult.”

“It’s not babysitting, and I’m happy to be here.”

“Well that’s very sweet. But you're about to regret every life choice that’s led you to this point.” His face stiffened with confusion at that before you laughed teasingly. 

“We have to move my mattress out of that truck. Since you’re here, I’d love to get out of dragging it on a tarp outside.” He actually laughed at that, and you were grateful you could get an actual laugh from him with that stupid of a joke. Maybe you had a chance with him after all. 

You’d just managed to get the mattress on the boxspring in your room, barely. You crashed down onto it in celebration and exhaustion. 

This is the fruit of our labor, and for that I thank you. I think this calls for a drink.” You jumped back up and bounced to the kitchen, with Spencer trailing slowly behind you, still trying to catch his breath. You continued talking to him down through the hallway. “I’m not big into actual drinking so I don’t have any alcohol, but I have water, orange juice, and coffee I think.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d stop going for a second. Before unloading your mattress you unpacked 3 boxes, and unloaded 6, while he could only struggle to keep up. You even found the energy to make conversation while you did it, and he was panting by the end, attempting to talk and lift. He’d never struggled to talk before. Every once in a while he needed to take a break from helping you to help the team, with them calling for whatever random information he could give, yet he was still lagging behind you with every trip back outside. 

“Coffee sounds amazing.” He figured the coffee maker was already set up, with the energy you had, you'd have to have more than he did. And he had 4 cups this morning. 

“Coming right up!” His relief at your pause in momentum was short lived. You made your way back to the living room and started shifting through boxes again. 

“What are you looking for? I thought you wanted to take a break.” 

“The coffee maker, it’s in one of these boxes, I just can’t remember which one. I mostly use it when I have guests.” You peaked his interest with that, there was no way that you just had all this motivation. It was humanly impossible. 

“Do you usually order yours? Or do you have a preference for energy drinks?”  Then you found the box holding the coffee machine and cut it open, laughing just a little bit to yourself at his interrogation-like line of questioning over something so simple. 

“Neither, I’m just not super into it. All of this annoying is 100% natural.” You plastered a cheesy smile on your face as you turned to him, coffee pot in hand. He just furrowed his brow in confusion. 

“I don’t think you’re annoying, but your relentless energy is interesting.” 

“Well thank you, Spencer. I don’t think I have creamer, but I definitely have sugar, so I hope that’s ok?” 

“Sugar is perfect, thank you again.” 

“Of course, thanks for helping me with that mattress, and you know, the whole bodyguard thing you’ve got going on.” You got down one of the mugs you’d recently put away, before passing it, filled with coffee, along with the sugar to Spencer.

“I’ve got to return that truck as soon as we get everything out of it, but I can pick up some food on the way back? And I’ve got movies in one of these boxes. You’re welcome to pick something, I like everything in there.” He chugged the coffee in his hand before moving with you toward the door. 

“Sorry, but protective custody only works when I’m close to you. So as long as you’re still ok with it, I’ll go with you. Also there’s no way I’m letting you pay for dinner after intruding on your space all day.” 

“Alright, then we’d better get started, the sun’s setting soon, and I hate the idea of driving that thing at night.” He gave a short nod and followed you out. You got the rest of the boxes, returned the truck, and picked up your car from the lot. When you went to pick up dinner Spencer, true to his word, insisted on paying. You sat on the floor and ate off the box your coffee table came in, deciding to put it together another day. When you cleaned up and finished unpacking your boxes of books and dvds you told Spencer he could pick a movie. He chose the one sci-fi flick from your collection, and you were not at all surprised. 

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

You weren’t quite sure when it happened. When you had moved to the couch, when you had offered to share a blanket with Spencer, or when you ended up falling asleep propped against his arm, the energy you had all day finally exhausted. The movie was long since forgotten when his phone rang and he answered in a whisper, not realizing the ringtone had already woken you up. 

“Hey Morgan, what’s up?”

“Hey kid, we found him, so you’re free to go. Unless of course, you’d like to stay.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice even through the phone.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Oh forget it, Rossi already told everyone. Look, we’re not leaving until tomorrow morning. Just be at the station at 5 to pack up before we go, now go and make me proud.” You assumed he hung up with the way Spencer let out a long sigh before putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Everything ok?” You mumbled out, alerting Spencer to the fact you were awake and continuing to stay propped against him for your own benefit, before leaning up to stretch and be able to look him in the eye. 

“Everythings fine, we found the person we were looking for, so we’re headed back to Virginia in the morning.” There was an air of sadness to his response, so you thought back on what the other agent said. 

“I know you probably have to get back, but it’s late and you’re welcome to stay here if you like.”

“I really couldn’t, it’s not only an imposition, but really inappropriate. There’s this concept called transference, essentially it’s where you project affectionate feelings onto people who are helping you, or hold some position of authority. I can’t possibly take advantage like that.” He shuffled to get up from your couch, straightening his clothes and grabbing his things to put them in his leather bag. 

“If you don’t want to, that's totally fine, but I wasn’t in danger. It was realistically babysitting more than anything, no one came after me, and nothing bad happened. Also, no offense, but I don’t really think of you or your friend from earlier as ‘Authority’. You’re like my age, and it’s not like you’re cops or anything. You’re federal agents, which is cool and all, but I’m not a murderer, so it’s not like I’m intimidated by you. I like you, but I’m not intimidated by you.” He couldn’t quite form a response, and his thoughts were swimming with the fact that he’d been assigned protective custody by himself twice and he ended up in this situation twice. I mean what are the odds. You were nothing like Lila though, with her he felt nervous all the time, but it was so easy spending the day with you. 

“You like me?” You feigned exasperation, with an over dramatic eye roll, and a cheesy smile. 

“Yes I like you. It wasn’t exactly an accident that I fell asleep on you, and continued to stay there after your ringtone woke me up.” He allowed himself a shocked smile, he wanted to keep his emotions neutral so as not to pressure you, but he couldn’t contain this. 

“Could I maybe get a response? I’m feeling a bit vulnerable here.”

“Sorry, yes of course I like you. I mean, have you seen you? You’re quite possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll stay if you’ll still have me, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What a gentleman–” Just as you were about to tell him that sleeping on the couch was a terrible idea with his height, his phone rang again. 

“Reid.”

“Hey Spence, there’s a problem. We aren’t getting that break after all, and we need to get going now. We’ll brief you on the plane, but we need to go. Now.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Thanks JJ.” He looked at you reluctantly after he hung up. 

“I have to go, but I really want to see you again. Would–Would that be ok?” 

“Of course it would Spencer, I’m just a phone call away.” You pulled out one of the post-its you were using to label boxes and scribbled your number on it. 

“Also at the very least, you know where I live.” You laughed, and he did more of a shaky sigh while shaking his head at you. You opened the door for him, and said your goodbyes, wishing him good luck on whatever it was he was about to do. 

You didn’t need to wait by the phone long, with him calling you to set up your first date that evening. It was a short drive from Quantico to your house, so he was hopeful about his new relationship. He just hoped this would be the last time you needed protection. He’d be there, and he just hoped that was enough for now. 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

smut for carmen berzatto with “i don’t deserve you?” please and thank you xo

Carmen.

6. "You're my best friend." + 14. "I don't deserve you."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. combined 2 requests here - thank you sweet anons!! adore adore adore mr berzatto x

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing, angry carmen

Word Count - 950

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Admittedly, he's easier to overwhelm than he should be.

The smallest thing goes wrong, and all of a sudden he's spiralling. He panics, and he takes it out on whoever is closest.

Today is no different.

You're wiping down tables out front when you hear him yelling. He's cursing, screaming at his kitchen staff. He's got that sharp edge in his tone, so you know it must be bad.

You drop your cloth and stride towards the back of the restaurant, determined to see what all the fuss is about. You're met with the sight of 4 terrified chefs and Carmen, stood in the middle of the kitchen, shouting at Sydney.

"Are you incompetent, chef? Are you?"

Sydney doesn't often flinch, but even she looks scared this time. She doesn't answer, and it angers him further. He goes to insult her again, but your voice cuts through the room.

"Carmen!"

Everyone stops to look at you. You're notoriously calm, the most collected person in the establishment. If you're yelling, it must be serious.

Carmy locks eyes with you, and you see the immediate regret written all over his face.

"Okay, everyone go home," you demand. No one protests, all of them filing out silently. When they're gone, you speak again.

"What the hell was that?"

When he doesn't answer, you take a step closer to him.

"Carmen, you can't scream at your staff every time something goes wrong. If you're not careful, you're gonna end up running this place by yourself."

He's looking at you with his puppy dog eyes, running his hands through his hair repeatedly. You can see he's clearly struggling with something internally.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replies too quickly. "I'm fine."

"Carmen, you're my best friend. I've known you since elementary school - I can read you like a book," you laugh. "Just be honest with me. What's wrong?"

"I just -" he sighs, and starts again. "I think I'm doing all of this wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm trying to do everything the way my brother did it, and it isn't working."

He leans back against the counter, stress plaguing his shoulders.

"You kind of just solved your own problem," you explain, stepping forward so you're practically standing in between his legs. "You're trying to do everything the way your brother did it. But you're not him. You're Carmen."

"No one calls me Carmen but you," he chuckles.

"That's because you're my Carmen. No one else's," you wink.

He smiles at you and your heart skips a beat.

You lean forward and press your forehead to his, exhaling when you feel the tension leave his muscles temporarily.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers.

You pull back and cradle his face in your hands, looking at him intently.

"Deserve or not, you have me," you reassure. "You have me. I'm not going anywhere."

Carmy surges forward and smashes his lips against yours. You gasp in shock, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, hands going to your hips to hold you to him.

This isn't the first time the two of you have kissed. In high school, you'd kiss at parties, occasionally makeout in his car, that one time after prom. But this is different. This kiss is charged.

You're tangling your fingers in his hair while he's grabbing at your ass, trying to pull you as close as he can. You break away for air and he kisses your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes.

"Not here, Carmen," you pant. "Office. Office, Carmen."

He picks you up around your middle and carries you, laughing when you squeal loudly, kicking your feet. As soon as you're through the office door, he's crowding you against the wall, desperately attempting to get your chefs jacket off. His fingers are shaking with want, and he's struggling with the buttons.

"Forget about me," you mutter against this lips. "This is about you. Call it stress relief."

You wink before dropping to your knees in front of him. He throws his head back at the sight, overwhelmed.

You untie his trousers and pull them down, pulling him out of his underwear. He's hot and hard and heavy in your hand, and you're realising you've thought about this more times than you'd care to admit.

"Let me take care of you, Carmen," you whisper, before taking him in your mouth.

You set a steady pace, head bobbing and hand moving in tandem. He's groaning, practically writhing, clearly trying not to move his hips.

"Don't hold back on me now," you say sternly, looking up at him with tear stained cheeks. He thinks you've never looked prettier.

"I don't - are you sure? I just - I need to -"

You cut him off by taking him back in your mouth, one hand gripping at the flesh of his thigh. He slowly starts to move his hips, gently and carefully. After a while, he learns your limits, and begins to thrust a little harder.

"Yeah, baby - fuck," he groans. "Just like that. Shit-"

You can tell he's close when his hips begin to stutter. One of his hands moves to grip your hair, and you moan when he tugs. The vibrations of the sound are his undoing, and he spills into your mouth, shuddering and groaning.

"Fuck, I don't deserve you," he mutters, pulling you up so he can slip his tongue past your lips to taste himself.

"Deserve or not, you have me," you echo from earlier. He laughs, and it's like you can see the tension melting from his body.

"My Carmen," you whisper against his lips. "My Carmen."

[wearebarca]

6. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 4,3k

A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

“ You are telling me that tomorrow, Alexia Putellas is taking you on a date.” Lia Walti is a very calm and down to earth person, which is why Rosalie valued the woman’s advice and opinion. It had been a while since she had called her friend, the last time was her first week in Barcelona, but after her afternoon at the beach, Rosalie needed some of that calmness and a fresh set of eyes on the situation.

“ I mean, is it really a date? I basically forced her to spend the day with me. Besides, she could’ve just said that to confirm the time and not the fact that it’s a date. English is tricky as hell, you know.” Behind the Swiss, Rosalie could hear a loud laugh followed by a few sentences that made the player laugh. “ Is that Leah grumbling in the background?”

“ Yes, wait, she’s coming.” Shuffling could be heard as Leah Williamson appeared in the camera frame, next to Lia.

“ I said that of course, Alexia Putellas, twice Ballon d’Or winner, international football star, doesn’t know proper English. Of course Frenchy, that makes perfect sense.” Leah said, with a serious expression that soon faded once she saw her friend’s pout.

“ I didn’t ask for your opinion, Grumpy.”

“ It’s my pleasure to provide my valuable insight nonetheless.”

“ I just don’t know how to treat tomorrow, you know.” The two Arsenal players could see how this was affecting their friend, but they both knew that the French-Canadian was simply scared after what had happened in England. All she needed was that little push to dare let herself be comfortable with another again.

“Listen Liebling, tomorrow is nothing more than two people spending a day off together. Nothing more, nothing less. You simply enjoy the time you spend with her and the rest just comes naturally.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.” Leah said, earning a small slap from the swiss. Rosalie took a deep breath. Her friends were right, this was no different from the supper they shared in Sevilla, but still, she could not help her anxiousness at the thought of spending the whole day with the captain.

“ Do you know what time she’s going to pick you up? Or are you meeting her somewhere?” Lia asked.

Rosalie froze. She had not realized that she had not discussed this with Alexia, nor did she get the blonde’s phone number before leaving the beach. “I don’t know, I didn’t take her phone number.” She all but whispered. A thud was heard in her phone speaker. She looked up only to see Leah’s head had made contact with their table. Lia was laughing.

“Can’t you just DM her?”

“What if she doesn’t answer her DM’s? She probably gets a hundred a day and doesn’t check them anymore. I don’t know, how am I…”

“Ok take a breath Frenchy, Grandma Bronze probably has her number.” Leah said, interrupting her friend that was clearly spiraling. Rosalie hadn’t thought about that. Otherwise, Ingrid probably had it too.

“Right, I should text her to see.”

“You do that Frenchy.” Leah said. “And don’t forget to tell us about your date, we’re invested now.”

“By the way, can you remind us of your marathon’s date so we can book our plane tickets.” Lia asked excitedly.

“ It’s the week after national camp.” The Canadian said checking her calendar where the dates were highlighted.

“ Are you still our photographer for camp and the Euros?” Leah asked.

“ I just confirmed it with the Lionesses management, yes! I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ve missed you.” Rosalie said excitedly.

“Are you flying with the Barcelona girls or leaving early to prepare?”

“ I’m flying with them, the marathon is three days after so I should be fine.”

“ We’ll meet you in Barcelona the day before the race. You should send us your address so we can book the closest hotel to your place.” Rosalie was about to answer when her phone started to vibrate. Upon a closer look, she realized that it wasn’t a number she recognized. She picked up the phone from the counter and opened her texts.

“ Hola Rosalia, Lucia gave me your number I hope it is ok:)”

Rosalie was silent, eyes fixed on her phone, offering the two Arsenal girls a perfect view of her wide eyes and forehead. There is only one person who called her Rosalia“ She texted you, didn't she?” Leah said matter of factly.

“ Mhm”

“ Answer her Frenchy, for fuck’s sake.” Leah said, exasperated by her friend’s behavior.

“ We’re gonna leave you to it Rosie.” Lia said, trying to calm down Leah who, even if she tried to deny it, was very much invested in the situation.

“ Merci les filles, I appreciate it a lot. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Go get her Frenchy.” Rosalie rolled her eyes then ended the call. And focused on the Spanish captain’s message.

“ Of course it’s ok :) I was wondering how you wanted things to work for tomorrow.”

“ I thought I could come pick you up around 10 if that’s ok with you, we could go get coffee and go to the market from there.”

“ Sounds good to me! I will send you my address.”

“ perfecto. See you tomorrow Rosalia.”

For the rest of the night, Rosalie spent her time deep cleaning her apartment. She wanted everything to be perfect for when Alexia would come. She picked her outfit, which consisted of flowy linen pants with a white tank top and a light sweater. After showering and making sure once again that her apartment looked presentable, she hopped in bed.

Unfortunately for the photographer, sleep did not come easy. An hour later, she was still tossing and turning, too apprehensive of tomorrow’s day to relax. After another half hour, she gave up and migrated to the couch with her laptop. If she was going to stay awake, she might as well make use of this time to get some work done.

A knock on the door woke the photographer up. It took a moment for Rosalie to realize that she actually never made it to her bed last night, and she had fallen asleep with her laptop opened by her side. Panic flooded her body as she jumped off the couch and ran to her bedroom to throw on the outfit she had chosen last night. Another knock followed by a small bark was heard and Rosalie all but ran to the door to unlock. She opened the door and bolted back in her room. “ I’m so sorry! I’m almost ready! Come in, make yourself home!”

She put her hair in a loose braid and grabbed the first cap she found in her closet and placed it on her head. Once satisfied with her appearance, she made her way to the living room, only to be met by a small excited ball of fluff. Alexia was still standing in the doorway, silently looking around the space. Rosalie picked up the small dog and made her way towards the footballer. “Allo! I’m sorry I seemed to have overslept.” she said with an apologetic smile.

Alexia broke out from her spell and smiled at the photographer. “Another late night working I see.” She said motioning towards the sofa where her computer and her pile of blankets from the night still laid.

“ Yeah, I couldn't sleep unfortunately.” A small smirk appeared on the captain’s features, but whatever she had been thinking about was eclipsed by Nala who had decided to give the smaller woman a deep face clean.

“Nala no!” Alexia said, reaching out to grab the little beast in order to make her stop her intensive licking.

“ Oh, it’s ok Ale I don’t mind.” She said, petting the small dog in her arms.

“ I hope you don’t mind me bringing her. We usually spend this type of day together, and she was very happy to know that we wouldn’t be alone today.”

“ I’m honoured to be allowed to spend the day with you guys.” She said laughing. “ I’m ready to head out if you are!”

They went down the stairs, Nala still in the photographer’s arms. Alexia’s car was parked right in front of her building. The footballer went ahead of her only to stop and open the door for the photographer. “ Merci! This is a nice car.”

“Si, we have a deal with the brand. It is fun to drive, more fun than your little car for sure.” She said with a teasing smile. Rosalie Let out a sound of indignation.

“Do not laugh at my car! It does the job very well!”

“ It’s so small, very cute.” Rosalie rolled her eyes which made Alexia laugh as she started the car and drove away. The drive was short and filled with laughter and fun banter, mainly about the photographer’s car.

“ I am only saying that you can’t carry a lot of stuff in this little car. It’s probably very uncomfortable.”

“It’s very spacious I’ll have you know!”

“It’s good for you I guess. Nina pequeña.”

“Hey! I’m average size!” The brunette said laughing as she turned around to look out the window. The streets looked familiar to the French-Canadian who realized that she had run here just before leaving for Sevilla.

“ I think I’ve run around here before.”

“This is my favorite part of the city. Only locals come here. The beach is nice and the little market is right next to it. It’s very calm.” She parked the car in a small street and got out to go around and opened the door for the photographer.as she stepped out of the car, she took a moment to really take in the blond. She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans, a loose shirt she had left halfway unbuttoned so her bralette showed. Her trusty white nike hat completed the look. She was gorgeous and Rosalie’s nervousness spiked a little at the sight.

Rosalie handed the blond Nala’s leash and they started walking towards the small shops that were lining up the street. It was a lot more lively then the last time she came here. Families were walking around and people were sitting outside the restaurants. The photographer turned to look at the footballer. Alexia smiled at her and beckoned her towards a small, rustic looking coffee shop.

“This is our first stop.” She opened the door and Rosalie was instantly met with the smell of freshly brewed espresso and baked pastries. A loud gasp was heard in the small shop which made the brunette jump a little. A small woman, who looked around her mothers age was currently making her way from behind the counter towards the duo.

“Alexia mija donde has estado! ¡Hace mucho que no te vemos!”

“Lo siento señora García, no he tenido mucho tiempo últimamente. » Alexia said, stepping forward, letting the tiny woman hug her fiercely. Rosalie stayed behind with a smile on her face as she witnessed the interaction. The woman and Alexia were chatting rapidly in Spanish, making it hard for the photographer to understand anything. She zoned out for a moment, taking in the space. This cafe reminded her of the one near the training center but, this one felt even more homy and intimate. The walls were full of art work which upon a closer look at the identification tag, were all made by local artists and available for purchase. The wall closest to the register was a floor to ceiling library with a multitude of books and board games available for the customers. A small children sized table in the far corner of the room was filled with coloring books and various types of crayons. The art work displayed around the area was very obviously made by children, and Rosalie laughed a little when she realized that they too, were available for purchase.

Strong hands grabbed her waist and turned her around.The photographer came face to face with the small older woman. Her smile was warm and her arms were already opened, ready to engulf the photographer in a bone crushing hug.

“¿Es esta la razón por la que has estado tan ocupada, querida?”

“No señora, ella es la razón por la que finalmente me tomo un día libre.” Alexia said with a fond smile. At her words, señora Perez grabbed Rosalie’s shoulders.

“gracias, ella necesita relajarse más” She told the photographer, who stayed silent, not being able to make the translation in her head due to the rapidity of their speech.

“Inglés, señora, Rosalia is still learning Spanish”

“Yes I am sorry. You take good care of Alexia. Gracias.” Rosalie smiled at that. Meanwhile, Alexia was watching the two interact. Señora Perez had dragged the Canadian towards a wall filled with pictures, no doubt to share the shop’s history with the brunette. This place was her pride and joy, she poured everything into making this place feel like home for her customers, which is why this was one of Alexia’s favourite places in all of Barcelona.

She made her way to the counter to order their drinks. Alexia had never brought anyone here, not even her sister. This was her little oasis in a city where everyone knew her name. Here, she was treated like a normal person, like a daughter even, not like the captain of FC Barcelona.

Her cups were placed in front of her by none other than Señor Perez. “ She must be important if you brought her here.” He said, leaning on the counter, watching his wife proudly showing the pictures she took of the world cup.

“Si, I feel good with her.”

“You keep this. It is rare.” Señor Perez was a man of very few words, which reminded Alexia of her own father. The man’s advice was all the more important to her. Her thoughts were interrupted by Rosalie’s return by her side.

“You really flew them to the world cup?” The brunette asked something close to admiration in her eyes. Alexia smiled at the fond memory.

“Yes I did, along with my mother and sister.” She said smiling. “They are big football fans. They deserved it, they helped me alot during my recovery.”

“Rosalia said she will come work in photos here sometime. She will get me match pictures for my wall.” The older woman said with a radiant smile, arm still hooked with the photographer’s.

“If you don’t mind me coming, that is.” The brunette said with a shy smile.

“Of course she does not mind. You come here like home. You show me ingles y me Spanish.” Señora Perez said in a tone that did not allow discussion. Alexia laughed at the woman and grabbed hers and Rosalie’s coffee.

“ Gracias María.” She said she let the smaller woman hug her. She turned to hug the photographer and whispered something in her ear that made the brunette blush furiously.

“You come back now, with pictures for my wall.” She said waving at the pair. Alexia held the door open for the French-Canadian. As soon as they stepped outside, Nala took off on the sidewalk seemingly knowing exactly what their next stop would be. They walked in the small street, side by side, sipping on their coffees while observing scenery around them.

“ How did you find this place?” The brunette finally asked.

“ When I ruptured my ACL, I got in a dark space. Even after I got the green light to walk again without the crutches, I did not want to leave home. My family started to get worried. They almost forced me to get out, go on walks. My sister told me that it was the perfect moment to really explore Barcelona, see beyond the training center and stadium.” The blond said, looking at her feet with a sad expression.

“I stumbled on this place during one of those walks. When I came in the shop was full of families and everyone seemed so friendly and happy that I decided to stay for a moment. I was scared I would get recognized but no one came to my table. I came back the week after, and the week after that as well. The third week, while I was ordering my coffee, Maria came around and asked her husband if “Senora Putellas wanted something to eat with her coffee.” That’s when I realized that they knew who I was, but simply did not treat me any different.” She said, smiling at the brunette.

“ At that moment, I truly needed that. I was still feeling like I was letting people down, or that I would never come back from this injury. It became part of my routine. Several times a week, I would go there to deal with my emails or simply to spend some time away from the football world. They always welcomed me with open arms. I invited them to my first game back. Antonio and Maria are both big Barça supporters, so I got them season tickets and to really thank them for everything they did, I paid for their trip for the World Cup.”

“ They seem like such warm, genuine people.”

“ They really are.” The blond chuckled. “ Maria seems to like you a lot. You’re gonna have to come back, otherwise she will not stop pestering me to bring you back.” The brunette laughed at that.

“ I promised her some pictures afterall.” the brunette said, already excited to see the nice couple again. The pair turned the corner and headed down a street that Rosalie recognized as the one leading to the beach. She could see that Nala was getting excited and pulling more intensely on the leash. “ You said that you found this place on one of your walks? You must live close then.”

“ Si, a few streets from her in fact. I’ll show you one day.” Alexia said, with a playful smile, which made the brunette blush slightly. They reached the beach soon after. There weren't many people around, only the odd couple walking with their dog or a few families having a picnic. Alexia pulled out a small ball out of her bag and took off Nala’s leash who barked happily at the sight of the small football her mom was holding.

Rosalie thought she would melt on the spot. The captain threw the ball and the small dog instantly took off. Rosalie sat in the sand with her coffee, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelted of the sea and something sweet, like strawberries and coconut. The photographer opened her eyes and was met with shiny hazel ones.

“Your eyes are really beautiful.” Rosalie didn’t know what came over her. It was as if she could not control the words that came out of her mouth. The blond blushed furiously at the compliment. The photographer was about to apologise in fear of having been too forward but, she was interrupted by something resembling a little rat running towards them with the small football in its mouth.

“Nala! Seriously!” Alexia said, pulling out a small towel from her bag. “ She does this every time I’m distracted.” She said attempting to dry the small dog who was too excited to stay put.

“ Might as well let her play now that she’s already wet.” The photographer said laughing as she took the ball and threw it in the direction of the waves.

They stayed well after Nala exhausted herself running after her toy. She was now laying at Alexia’s feet, happily receiving pets from her mom.

“The only thing I miss about Canada is the nature really. Endless green forests with so many lakes.” Rosalie said with a nostalgic smile. “ It’s so beautiful, even during winter.”

“ I heard it gets very cold.” Alexia said with a grimace.

“ oh oui, where I’m from it gets as low as minus 30 degrees or more.”

“ I don’t like the cold.” Alexoa said, shivering just at the thought of such frigid conditions.

“ I bet you’d like skiing. You feel so free going down the mountain, like nothing can stop you.”

“ sounds dangerous to me. Although the after-ski sounds great.”

“ Yes! With hot chocolate and cheese-fondues and all the good stuff.” At the mention of food, a loud rumbling was heard coming from the photographer’s stomach. Alexia stood up and clipped Nala’s leash on her collar.

“ Let’s go to the market. We can find you something to eat there.” She said, holding out her hand for the photographer to grab.

The market was just a bit farther on the boardwalk, and was buzzing with merchants selling different types of products. It went from food like fresh vegetables to the latest catch of the day, as well as different artisanal items like handmade jewelry or little souvenir shops. Rosalie stopped in front of a display showing some bracelets harbouring the colours of their club. She decided she would get one and give it to Alexia at the end of the day. Unbeknownst to her, a few stands away, Alexia was currently picking out a similar gift, along with something that would calm the photographer’s hunger.

They arrived at Alexia’s car an hour later with bags filled with everything they needed to make Alexia’s paella. Rosalie was surprised to see that the footballer did not ask for her address or any directions to get back to her apartment.

Rosalie felt nervous at the thought of Alexia coming into her home. She’d always been skittish about inviting people in her space. It was her sanctuary and she had just started feeling home here, but seeing Alexia in her living room eyes scanning over the variety of cameras and pictures on display with Nala already making herself at home on her couch, Rosalie decided rather quickly that she did not mind having those two around.

“This is you and your uncle right?” Rosalie did not need to see on which picture Alexia had stopped. It surely was the one where she was on her uncle’s back after an important college football game. This was merely weeks before he had passed and it was one of the most precious memories she’d made. Sensing she had touched a sensitive subject, Alexia moved away from the picture and joined the French-Canadian in the kitchen area.

“ Now, I have heard that you are terrible at cooking, so you will do as I say, si?” Her tone was firm, yet playful as she was already taking control of the space. Rosalie felt a chill run down her spine at the blond’s words, but quickly shook it off. Or she thought so, because as soon as she turned around, the brunette felt hands at her waist, guiding them towards the cutting board and knife Alexia had set up for her.

“ Would you mind cutting these for me?” She asked, with her hands still lingering on the brunette’s hips. She was so close Rosalie could feel her breath tickling the hair at the base of her neck. She closed her eyes for a second, attempting to slow her breathing which had quickened at the captain’s touch.

“ Mhm,” Was all that she was able to answer.

“ Bueno, you can start with the onions and peppers.” she said, finally letting go of the photographer. During the whole preparation, Alexia made it incredibly hard for Rosalie to focus on not cutting off any of her digits. Everytime she would move around in the kitchen she would make sure to brush against the brunette or hold her by the waist when passing behind her. It was almost as if the Catalan woman was doing it on purpose. If only the Canadian would have turned around, she would have her suspicions confirmed by the smirk adorning the captain’s face every time she would notice the photographer’s breath hitch or the goosebumps that would form whenever she would utter more instructions close to her ear.

Rosalie was sure it was due to divine intervention if she was able to be of any use in the preparation of this meal. Her apartment was filled with the delicious smell of freshly made paella and Alexia looked satisfied with what they had cooked together. “ I think this is the closest it’s ever been to my mother’s” She said with a proud smile. “ All I needed was the right partner.”

The brunette smiled as she took out plates and made her way towards the living room when she had set up the coffee table. “ So what do you usually do while eating? Watch a movie, listen to music?”

“ I normally watch old games of our next opponents to study their plays better.” Alexia answered, bringing the dish to the table.

“ Even on your days off?” The blond gave an embarrassed smile as she pulled out her phone.

“ You did say you wanted to see what I do on my days off.” She said laughing. She pulled up on her phone the most recent Madrid CFF match she could find and casted it on Rosalie’s tv. They both ate while watching, occasionally discussing plays and weaknesses they could eventually use in the upcoming game. As the evening went on, both women slowly gravitated towards the center of the sof. Alexia ended up with her arm on the back of the couch, with the photographer practically nestled in the crook of her arm. It had been a long time since the captain had felt this relaxed in the presence of another person. She could feel the exhaustion slowly gaining on her, making her limbs and her eyelids heavy. The photographer shifted slightly, giving the perfect opportunity for the blond to finally warp her arm around the smaller woman’s frame.

“ Are you comfortable?” Alexia asked, turning her head slightly to watch the brunette melt in her arms.

“ Oui,” The answer came as a whisper. Alexia could see that the photographer was too, fighting against sleep. Still, she simply could not bring herself to leave, not when she felt this relaxed and at ease. She told herself that she would leave at the end of the game, so she could enjoy this peaceful moment a little while longer. Only her body had other plans, because just a few minutes later the footballer finally succumbed to the heavy pull of sleep

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 2

Part one

Steve doesn’t sleep that night. It’s a bad idea to put them both on the bench, and Munson was spiraling. He’d let him sleep until morning, and then they’d have the worst team huddle Steve’s ever been a part of and get the fuck out of here.

When Munson’s breathing finally evens out, Steve rolls onto his back, batting the dangling sleeve of his letterman jacket out of his face. Munson rolls, throwing his arm atop Steve’s calves and cuddling them to his chest. Steve lets him be.

The feel of his breath shifting the fabric of his jeans is almost comforting. Even if it’s just Munson, he’s not alone here.

He’s less alone than he ever has been, here of all places.

It’d been instinct, when the fear hit, to drag Munson into the closet and hunker down. That’s what he’s always done–hide away. It’s not usually this quiet when he’s in here.

Without thought, Steve reaches out to clasp Muson’s spindly ankle in his hand. Munson snuffles in his sleep, but doesn’t wake. Steve resolves to wait out the night.

Except it never gets lighter. Time’s passed, he’s pretty sure, but the light stays that same muted red that gives him the creeps. Maybe the quiet is making him crack up just like Munson? Maybe the stress of the night has thrown off his internal clock? Maybe it’s been ten minutes, and he’s getting short of breath and panicky for no reason at all.

It takes lifetimes for Munson to wake up. 

He snuffles again before shoving Steve’s calves away from himself and launching into an upright position, whacking his face into Steve’s hanging clothes. Munson makes an undignified squawking noise. Steve’s still just trying to breathe.

“Steve?” Munson whispers. “Are you having a nightmare?”

Steve continues to not breathe as Munson bends over him to shake his shoulders, eyes wide. He doesn’t know how to tell him that this just happens sometimes, where the air goes all wrong but only for him.

“It’s still dark out,” he says. It almost comes out normal, like he’s commenting on the weather and not the horrible lighting of the hellscape they’ve landed in amidst an acute episode of not breathing.

“Are you still tired?” Musons asks. “Hungry? Thirsty? What’s happening here, are you dying?” His words trip over themselves in his haste to spit them in Steve’s face.

“Munson, we didn’t wake up.” He laughs, feels half cracked. “The sky’s still fucking red.”

Munson stares at him, mouth hanging open, eyebrows scrunched. He reaches out his hand, and pinches the loose skin of Steve’s wrist hard between his fingers.

“Ow!” It’s not Steve that says it. 

Munson pulls his hand back, shaking it. Steve can barely make out the way the pinky finger on his hand is at an unnatural angle, bulbous in the diluted light.

Something snaps back into place at the sight. His lungs fill and empty like they’re supposed to. He pushes Munson out of the way, ignoring the way he curses as he forces his way out of safety.

It’s a little lighter in his bedroom, but it’s all still red. 

Munson stumbles out after him. Steve grabs his shoulder and shoves him to his bed, pushing him to a seated position. 

“At least buy me dinner first,” Munson says, voice breathy and shaking.

Steve ignores him, kneeling down at his feet to examine his finger in better light. 

It’s dislocated, pulled cleanly from the socket and given time to swell around the injury. It’s going to be a bitch to pop back in. Steve walks back to his closet, grabs a shirt, and throws it into Munson’s face.

“Put this in your mouth.”

“Excuse m–”

Steve kneels back in front of him, grabbing his injured hand and pulling it up to the other boy’s face. “This is going to hurt like a bitch to fix. We can’t afford to have you screaming, Munson.” He picks the shirt up from where it fell in Munson’s lap and holds it up tauntingly. “Bite down.”

Munson does. Steve brings his attention back to his hand, wincing in sympathy. He grabs the injured finger just above the knuckle, grimacing at the whine Munson lets out. He wrenches it back in place, hears it pop almost wetly back in its socket. Munson doesn’t scream–he gasps.

“Sorry, no ice,” Steve says. He’s in triage mode, half-remembered modules from high school health class and first aid training for lifeguarding duty running though his mind. “I think we should wrap it and maybe, like, hold your hand above your head? I think it helps with blood flow.”

“Thank you, Dr. Harrington.” It’s clearly supposed to be sarcastic, but Munson’s teeth are clenched, uninjured hand gripping tightly at Steve’s shirt.

Steve doesn’t comment. He moves into his en suite bathroom, shuffling through drawers until he finds one of the cloth headbands he stole from his Mother. It’s a dark maroon–a perfect fit for Munson’s whole goth vibe.

“Pressure should keep the swelling down,” he says as he carefully wraps the finger as tight as he dares. 

“Fuck fine,” Musons says. He pushes Steve back, less with a shove and more with the sheer force of his gesturing hands. “What now?”

Well, then. Time for the worst Team huddle in existence.

Part 3

[tigerpearlsworld]

Pick a card

( Why can't you find love ....where is the lack ? )

Before you chose the cards know that this is a general pick a card. There are infinite energies in the universe and the energies if align with your stars will guide you to my reading. So, welcome. Know that you can only chose one card. This pick a card is meant for your soul not for you to resonate but for you to realize when you get the message and truth in time. To pick a card you must follow your hearts tug and instinct and look deep within each image something about yourself rather than what you want it to be Breathe in and Breathe out, light a candle/ incense, meditate to the beating of your heart and let every thoughts come through and accept what is coming in your heart and then light and form a picture in your heart as you close your eyes and meditate in yourself. After that when you open your eyes choose the image where your heart calls for the most and remember your heart is your guide not your brain so.....

Sorry if my english is bad.

To those who chose the pile to know the answers of your love and its fate, i pray to the stars to bless you with pure energy and to give you strength.

Choose the pile :

Pile 1 : Eclipse, Pile 2 : Bondage, Pile 3 : Sheep

The reading starts...

Pile 1 :

Words which are coming for you as i start the reading of pile 1 are ( Searching, worry/anxious, gullible, sleep paralysis, haunted, support, sleep, protection, flow, knowledge )

Vibes : to take charge or be in control

Cards : ( 6 of wands Rx, Ace of cups, King of wands, 7 of pentacles, Death, Knight of wands )

I see in the strings of fate weaving your story in matters of heart and finding your love, i see struggle. No matter if you are good looking and very much desired and people fight over you but when it comes to you wanting a place to rest in someone else's heart you see yourself alone. Yes you get compliments yes you are envied but you have insecurities which are also in the compliments you get from people. I see in your heart space you long towards finding your sun, your king or queen but it feels impossible. All the choices you find are never to the satisfaction of yourself or the people who surround you as friends, family and supporters. At times you can get manipulative without even knowing and later on realizing you find it hard to admit. You like to be coddled but you also want to independent and be respected in matters of your craft.

I see that from early on in life you don't have the greatest of choices in people as your significant partner. In most times the choices you spare and give chances don't do you the same favor when the table turns in their favor. You are treated as the main girl but as time passes you feel that you lost your shine and spark with the so person you once enjoyed sharing with.

In your lack i don't see you having the scarcity of having no options but its more like after you get the man or woman you want, things just begin to spiral down. The question which comes is "So, what now?" you are a freedom seeking soul in heart yet you also crave the loyalty of a person to follow you in that adventures with you and that is hard.... because no one wants to follow your path. I see your fate in love is a hard one and one more like a sailor who is in a mission to find the one piece. i see that you wont be able to meet the love of your life in the region you were born, no.... you will have to cross oceans as in cross distances and have to go through a lot of internal death and soul transformation where you learn not to repeat the old cycle of habits then and only then you will cross path with your true love.

Your fate in love is a penance you must do, because if not, the heat of either your flames or your partner will burn the relationship and make the partner go blind or you... I see this heat will even cause the loop of chase and runner happening between you and your partner and if worse goes to worse there is also possibility of affair and unexpected children by your partner out of no where.

i see your fated partner can be a musician or singer, may be more earthy in approaches of medicine and can also be a huge healer. I also see you and your fated partner to share a lot of activities and being adventurous together.

The one message i have for you is don't go blind in rage or hatred. Be in control of your mind and its thoughts and be discipline with yourself in matters of health, food and routine. You may like horror movies or there is a lot of tendency in you to rage but you have to control your anger.... your anger will be your true enemy. Also try to be more in service for others. Lessen your feeling of being a victim and become more motivated towards empowering yourself and bring changes in your lifestyle for good.

the song which came for you during my reading, this may help or resonate with you.

Pile 2 :

Words which are coming for you as i start the reading of pile 2 are (Leader, universe, travel, burning, wishes, identity, punishment, heat, burning, karma)

Vibes : Want to punish the sinner/ Savior mentality / Defender

Cards : ( Knight of pentacles, knight of cups, the hierophant, 2 of wands, the devil, 10 of pentacles, temperance )

In the churning of your cosmos the stars says you are a force to reckon. you are gentle but fierce, kind but stern. you have all the abilities of a leader and people respect if you know or not. there is a sense of directness which you take and anything that comes in front of your speech or goal is not spare at all. I see you have a grandeur about you which you may have not realize till later in your life. I see that you are a very serious person who may not get what you want in life directly so you must grind and work hard for it. I see no obstacle can hold you back and that you are a person with serious loyalty and commitment. I see you crave for someone to dominate you in bed and i see you have wild fantasies with a lot of ideas. I see from younger years you had a sex appeal to you which was not missed by people and sometimes was also used to abuse or shame.

I see the lack you have in matters of love is not something which is missing but something which you have. Your serious undying loyalty is something which is to die for and very remarkable but it also drags you to the bottom of getting used and hurt in the process. I see even if you get abuse and the relationship is over the flames of your love and your loyalty is something which doesn't dies easily. "You love too much" and Once you make a commitment even if you die you wont let the commitment go....it is scary but it is you.

I see that in matter of having men/women you have people offering themselves to you but you don't want something shallow you want something deep, something dark . you want all the good, bad, ugly and worse of a person.

I see in the fate of your love life i see two soulmates or two marriages. There is two stories here it either goes like your first relationship was toxic and abusive but later on you divorced move on with your life ,started all over worked hard on yourself and career and suddenly everything began to get better and you met the love of your life and for every struggle you had early you get rewarded heftily this time

or

Your first relationship you marry the love of your life but something very unexpected happens in marriage which causes lose in some ways but you also gain something like honor, career, money, land, house but even after getting everything you still pay karma to your children and family in some ways. And you keep struggling to find a man who wants you for you and not for what you have in later parts of life. I also see there is a tendency to attract men younger than you.

either way in your fate of love i definitely see long-term marriage but there is karma to pay.

In this life for you what im getting as message to deliver is to not be so serious and be free, let go of self constraint you always put in yourself or you let others put on you. "Let go and be free."

This song was coming for me it was attacking me literally, it has messages i believe

Pile 3 :

Words which are coming for you as i start the reading of pile 2 are ( Connecting, Risking, Curious, Bipolar, Pure, Mutable, cutting, attraction, always questioning always confuse, burning, moving, domestic, wild, temptation, crossing )

Vibes : Taking all the responsibility/ Burning up

Cards: ( The magician, 6 of wands Rx, ace of cups, knight of cups, temperance, 8 of wands, 6 of pentacles )

In matter of your stars i see you are blessed by the heavens and all the angels. you are beautiful and very youthful in spirit. I see you were born with a mission this life time and woman fall easily for you. you have a allure which is very hard to resist. I see your energy is very masculine but at the same time its very feminine. you maybe bipolar, i dont know why but it just came. You may like milk product or your mother or you may even be a vegan or vegetarian by choice.

I see you have a very strong appeal to you and a very high vibrational manifesting power. whatever you dream in heart you can achieve you have that power. As because you're so youthful from inside your soul and heart i see like a child you can distinguish between a bad person and a good person. your judgement is very precise. your fashion is also very precise and on point. you do not like the idea of lack. I also see you like to meet people and engage in different parties, concerts, events, movies. There is a sense of innocence in your sexuality. For some i also see fluidness in gender of not knowing what or who you are truly ( i mean no disrespect, its just im getting the messages. ) for some of you I also see working or contributing to a lot of charity or non- profit organization for children and animal especially even old people. I also see you may find old people and animals cute and adorable.

Now in matters of what is the lack i see you are a natural giver. Yes, you like to give in love with open heart and you are someone who is very direct and honest about your feelings and emotions. But the problem of lack i see is the very nature of you being a giver, you are never satisfied you feel inside you there is this sense telling you to go and share your love and admiration with everyone equally. you are someone who may want to be in relationship but again that bipolar energy doesn't lets you stay in that single frame of devotion. You want to be free and roaming the world with your friends and have fun and accomplish goals and mission in life. The domestic idea in life of relationship although not out of reach for you but keeps you restless and uncomfortable when you're in one for long. There is also this fate where you and your partner just get bore or life in relation becomes mundane so naturally you guys fall apart.

In matter of fate in love if you are the one who wants the love seriously but still you will only encounter people or have people come to you who are either engage, married or in relationship. I see the stereotype of food being the way to heart is true for you as you really are a foodie. In the bedrooms i see you have this mixture of innocence and fire. I also see in matter of love there is a habit of cutting a relationship off without warning unexpectedly.

You may like beaches or sunset or just sun in general so i'll say to take the blessings of the sun and bath in sunlight in morning time also its recommended to do fire rituals and burn incense for purity of mind and soul.

A song which came to me when i was channeling this piles energy

[rikisniffles]

chapter fourteen [西村力] my first love was a boy ✧ NISHIMURA RIKI (NI-KI) X M!READER

SYNOPSIS — l/n y/n is a member of boynextdoor under hybe/koz. being an idol has always been y/n's dream, and ever since it became true he has been more than happy. despite being an idol, he doesn't know many other idols outside his group. when he runs into his seniors, a seemingly never-ending spiral of embarrassing moments occurs.

disclaimer !! : every idol in my stories is a character and does not always reflect the actual person (i do my best but for entertainment purposes, it may be off)

— fic masterlist / info

chapter fourteen - worn out

warning: written part (625 words), slight angst, smallest suggestive joke from taesan at the end (nothing too bad)

Ni-ki lays with his head resting on his pillow. His hair, wet, sprawled across the soft fabric of his pillowcase. His body is heavy. Lack of sleep, a good meal, and a full schedule are catching up to him. His lower limbs ache as he raises his legs, bending to stretch them out. Pops and cracks emerge from his bones.

Closing his eyes, he lies there. Despite the exhaustion, sleep won't come easy to him. His muscles and bones ache with soreness from practice, stages, and whatever else he's had to do this week. He feels weak. He grabs the blanket's fabric under him in his fist, gripping it in frustration.

It's lonely here. Ni-ki enjoyed the silence whenever he had it, but not so much at night. He grew up cuddling his sisters to sleep, which turned to sleeping in a room with his hyungs. Then when they got their own rooms, they were too busy to be there. He was always sharing a hotel room with someone. He was never alone.

For the first time in a while, he's in a room by himself. He knows he should enjoy it but he can't.

And he's too proud to go to his hyungs for comfort.

Ni-ki's eyes shoot open when his phone vibrates under him. He reaches a hand under himself, searching for the small device. The notification was nothing important, but it reminded him of what Sunoo had said to him.

His finger hovers over the contact of his friend. He hasn't talked to Y/n in days, he wants to, but both of them have been too busy.

After a few minutes, he finally clicks the call button. Bringing the phone to his ear, he breathes out a sigh. It keeps ringing as Y/n doesn't pick up. The phone goes silent and embarrassment fills him. He puts the phone down.

Vibrations shake his hand. Y/n was calling him back almost right away. Relief fills him but he still shakes from anxiety.

"Hey!" Y/n greets with enthusiasm as Ni-ki picks up, "Sorry, I meant to pick up but I didn't get to my phone in time-"

"Hey, who is that?!" A younger voice yells from across the room. Shuffling comes from the other end as the voice gets closer. "Hiiiii Ni-ki~" Woonhak teases, his voice suddenly louder as he speaks into the mic.

"Shut the fuck up, Woonhak." Y/n drops the phone on the bed while attempting to push Woonhak away from the phone. "Get away!" Y/n sighs as his groupmate laughs to himself.

"You still there?" Ni-ki asks, chuckling.

"Yes! I'm sorry..." Y/n's voice muffles as he whines into a pillow, embarrassed because of his friend. "So, what's up?"

"Oh," Oh yeah, he has to say something... "Just..." He thought about lying, "I missed you." He couldn't lie.

He smacks himself internally as Y/n goes quiet. The phone mic doesn't pick it up, but Woonhak is covering his mouth as giggles threaten to escape. Y/n takes the phone off of speaker mode...

"R- Right..." Y/n's voice shakes, "Yeah, we haven't talked in a while."

Ni-ki hums, "How's your comeback prep going?"

"Good..." Y/n bites his thumbnail, "Hopefully. I just got back from practice... This is hypocritical of me, but shouldn't you be asleep? It's really late."

"Yeah..." Ni-ki subconsciously yawns, "Shouldn't you?"

"My hyung was getting food delivered."

"Ah..." Ni-ki nods, "I was going to ask if you wanted to come over since we are both up but you're right it's late and-"

"I'll be over." Y/n answers quickly, shocking Ni-ki with his urgency.

"Don't you have to eat?"

"Don't worry about that, leave your door unlocked. I'll sneak my way in."

Ni-ki doesn't bother to fight back his smile, "Okay. See you soon."

"See ya!" The phone hangs up.

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— koki's note ★ ; GUESS WHOS BACK!!! and I'm back for real this time lolol, ill be posting regularly again 😚😚 hope yall missed me, might post another one today as an apology... i just started college and I'm ngl I'm kinda stressed... but I'm back on schedule so I should be able to post more regularly now :) have a fantastic one!

[adventuringblind]

Sharing is Caring

Lando Norris x Reader X Oscar Piastri

Genre: Smut

Request: no, this is purely practice and experimental writing

Summary: Lando has always lived by the rule that sharing is caring, this includes his girlfriend… and maybe also himself

Warnings: filthy smut, Lando and Reader are menaces, PinV, dom/sub dynamics, fingers, anal,

Notes: alright listen here, I am a whore for these men and I’m not to proud to admit that. This is experimental because I want to write a scene for my series where the group is three bisexual males a female, but have never attempted majority of what that would entail (more then one partner, actual gay sex and not whatever the hell that thing I wrote with Daniel was). Y’all are not allowed to judge me! My information is coming from Ao3 and I blame that on whatever this spirals into.

Masterlist

The following media is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. Minors please do not interact with this post!

You and Lando had been together since he started at McLaren. He was clueless and you were meant to be an assistant or intern or something along those lines. Both of you barely over the cusp of being adults.

You describe is as clueless and horny.

He says it was sexy and necessary.

You’d become fast friends, but then friends turned into benefits after a party one night.

Your were both buzzed but definitely coherent. You knew every part of your mind hand wanted him as he licked stripes up your neck. You knew at as he took off your clothes. And you definitely knew it while you came undone on his tongue.

Your situationship turned into a relationship soon after that. You couldn’t keep your stupid feelings for him tucked away in secret. You slipped when he was cleaning you up after you both went hard one night.

It was messy and you stumbled through your relationship clumsily, but soon you found your footing.

Lando had grown up on a common rule in his house: sharing is caring. Though he hated it then, now it seemed to be his motto.

You’d learned this after he had you tied to the bed posts and sent his saliva down your throat. He’d smirked at you and uttered the phrase.

Lando found it endearing how easily you submitted to him. Your entire job was being told what to do and when to do it so he thought you’d be less into it. He was sorely mistake.

He’d had you drunk on his presence alone. His voice the only thing filling your pretty little head. He got off on the power you gave him over you.

Lando had noticed one thing over his first year in formula 1: everyone treated him like an innocent child.

First it was Carlos. His teammate joked about him being a virgin still and Lando was fuming. He knew he should’ve watched his tongue but he could help himself.

“You could always come see for yourself that I’m not.”

That was the first time you’d invited someone in with you. Carlos lost a bit of his pride that night as his younger teammate and girlfriend practically had their way with him. And when Carlos asked him why he would share their bed with him, he’d only responded with “sharing is caring.”

Lando’s next teammate was older and even more frustrating. Daniel picked on the two of them relentlessly. Lando, being older now, held his tongue. But when he started saying things about you, vile derogatory things, he snapped.

“Say it again and I’ll make you regret it.”

Daniel showed up at their room that night expecting a mediocre threesome at best. What he got was the best damn blowjob of his life from you and Lando making him regret every word he’d said from behind.

Daniel also lost a bit of his pride that day and Lando couldn’t help but smirk every time Daniel shifted uncomfortably during the press conference.

You both teased Daniel that day with the “sharing is caring” line.

Now Lando has a teammate younger then him, and he’s a rookie no less.

Oscar is quieter then his other teammates and a stark contrast to Lando in personality.

It didn’t take long for Lando to catch on to his staring at you. The lovely blush that spread across his cheeks every time you touched his shoulder in a friendly way.

“I like him.” Announced Lando one morning.

“Who are we talking about exactly.”

“Oscar, I genuinely like him.”

You’d brought up the idea of adding a permanent third to your relationship. Both of you very open to the idea, just not with someone who likes to tease you two because your young.

Your not to prideful to admit that you’d both brought up Max as an option at one point.

“He’s very sweet and I think you go well together.” You admitted. “To bad he wouldn’t be into it.”

“What makes you say that.”

“Doesn’t peg me as the type.”

Lando choked on his breakfast. “I could make a dirty joke but I’m not going to.” He thinks for a moment. “I actually know he is because he got drunk one night after a hard race and admitted that he’d fuck us both.”

“Does he remember that?”

“Unfortunately no and I’d rather be the one fucking him anyways.”

“How about a game.” You propose. Lando can see the mischief in your eyes. “First to get him to crack wins.”

“Wins what exactly.”

“You already have me so bragging rights I suppose.”

~

It started small. Lando with his hand on Oscar’s knee during briefings, you making sexual comments underneath your breath causing him to choke on his air.

Then it escalated. You were wary that you might be making him uncomfortable, but as lando slips his hand on Oscars thigh, you can see the satisfaction on both their faces.

Ultimately Lando won in the end. The same stupid line he used in everyone coaxing Oscar into your hotel room.

“So we use the traffic light system for safe words just because it’s easy to use and remember.” Lando led Oscar into the room and sat him down on the bed.

He’d already had you in your undergarments and kneeling because since he won this was his prize. Not that you could protest anyways, you’d just make it harder on yourself later if you did.

Oscar was confused for a moment, his eyes raking over your half naked and waiting body while Lando went over some ground rules. “I didn’t realize you guys were into this stuff. Like- where you would need safe words, I guess.”

“Are you okay with that.”

Oscar hesitates for a moment. Unsure of how he should respond. “Can I be honest first?”

“Honesty is better now then us doing something to hurt you later.”

“It’s just that- I’ve done this before, but never with people I actually liked.”

“You like us?” You pipe. Genuine shock shooting across your face.

“It’s not something most people expect of me. Wanting to date more then one person feels weird to talk about I suppose.”

“But it’s not weird because we like you to.” You smile. Grateful that Lando isn’t shoving a gag in your mouth for speaking without permission.

“That being said,” Lando smirks, “how about we show just how much we like you, if you’ll let us?”

“Hopefully I can do the same for you.”

Oscar has suddenly found his confidence and pulls Lando down to his lips. It’s a hungry kiss. Their hands explore each other while your left on the ground. Although waiting obediently, you can’t help but squirm.

Lando pulls away and lands his gaze on you. “Why don’t we show Oscar what the pretty mouth of yours can do.”

You nod your head at him and crawl your way in between Oscar’s legs. Your fingers tugging at his waistband and eyeing him for permission. “I would be sad if you didn’t.” He chuckles. His fingers already finding your hair as you pull off his sweats and boxers in one go.

He’s already very hard and admittedly very pretty. Lando sets himself behind to Aussie and chuckles darkly. “Go ahead love.”

You take the permission and start with just your tongue. Attempting to wet his length before you take him down your throat.

The guttural moan that leaves Oscars lips only encourages you to keep going. You practically shake at you watch Lando strip both himself and the other male of their shirts.

“You can be rough with her, she likes it that way.”

The Aussie takes that as his cue. One hand forms a makeshift ponytail and the other lines himself up with your mouth. You barely get a chance to breathe before Oscar is shoving himself down your throat. You hollow your cheeks as he bucks his hips up with an unrelenting speed.

You hadn’t even noticed you left yourself in a waiting position. Oscar slows for just a moment as he sees the tears roll down your cheeks and the absent placement of your hand on his leg. He pulls your arm up and sets your hand on his thighs. “One tap to keep going, two to stop.”

You tap once and he’s back at slamming himself into your mouth.

Lando’s fingers are running up and down Oscars body, his mouth giving you the praise you so desire. “Good girl, just like that, isn’t she good Oscar?”

“Fuck- yes, so fucking good, your mouth is amazing.”

There isn’t much warning from him verbally, but the twitching in your mouth and sloppy movements tells you everything you need to know. He’s finishing in your mouth seconds later and you take every drop. Not that you had much choice to begin with anyways. Lando drops down to your level. You hold your mouth open for him, as it routine, and let him inspect. “So fucking good. Such a perfect slut for me.”

Oscars catching his breath. His body still twitching. “I think that’s the best blowjob someone had ever given me.” He pants

You smile proudly at your handiwork.

“It’s not the first time someone has said that.” Laughs Lando. He stands up again leaving you planted on the floor.

“They’d be stupid not to.”

You eye Lando expectantly, assuming he’ll want to make use of your mouth next. “Not tonight love, I have other plans.” He helps you up off the floor and lets you stretch your legs before tossing you on the bed. “I think you’ve done so well that you deserve to be rewarded.”

Oscar doesn’t hesitate to let his fingers dance across your body. He’s watching your face and looking for your most sensitive spots.

You haven't let out a single noise, and you're proud of yourself for it. For as much as Lando loved to tease, he had to admit you are really good at doing what you're told.

Lando is quick to remove the rest of your clothes while Oscar makes it his personal mission to make you moan. Something you intend on not doing. At least until your given permission.

With you now being exposed to the hungry eyes of the two males, you can't help but feel a tad overwhelmed.

Though it doesn't last long, though, as two mouths are hungrily sucking and nipping at the most sensitive parts of your breasts. Leaving marks as they go. You bite down so hard on your lip that it bleeds.

Lando can read you like a book. He knows you're focused on behaving and not enjoying the moment. "Moan for us love, tell us how good you're feeling." And with that, you're a whining mess.

Lando detaches himself from you. "You can return the favor if you want Oscar." He's smirking. Lando has always known exactly how to play this game. How to get then exactly where he wants them.

"Mmm think I'd rather take you."

You almost choke at the look the flashes across the Brits face. He's never been in this position before. Sure, he's had the other guys suck him off, but that was on his instruction. This is new territory.

Oscar is crawling over the top of you and sliding himself down Lando. The Brit is still too shocked for words.

He tests the limits, taking a few kitten licks over Lando. Then, makes direct eye contact and slips his mouth over the entirty of Landos dick.

It's weird to watch them. Normally you have a job. Without one you just go back to waiting.

Oscar pulls his mouth off for a moment and looks at you. "You know his body better than me. Why don't you show me where he likes being touched."

Oh this was definitely new territory. You didn't know what to do in this situation. You look at Lando for some sort of idea.

"Guess you get to listen to two people tonight." Then, without hesitation, you let your hands roam freely.

It's funny, you think, that Oscar had moved your hand earlier but now his hands were placed on wither side of the Brit.

To mimic the action he did earlier, you put his hand on Lando's thigh. He looks at you with appreciation and then continues taking apart the Brit underneath him.

You attach your lips and your teeth to places you know he's sensitive. Dragging your tongue from his pec all the way to his ear lobe.

And as his lips landed on yours, Lando was shaking underneath you. Oscar managed to suck him through his entire high, leaving him in an exhausted heap on the bed.

"Hey Lando, I think our girl has been waiting patiently, yeah?"

The was he says our has you trembling. They are both eyeing you now, and you have no idea what to do.

Lando reaches for your frame and pulls you into his lap. His fingers lazily dance over the one place you ache to be touched.

You sigh as he slips a singular finger into you, moving in and out so slow you think you might cry.

Oscar leaves kisses all over your thighs, working his way up to your needy heat. Lightly flicking your clit with his tongue when he reaches the top.

The two boys are steadily picking up the pace. Lando is gradually adding more fingers. The coil is getting closer to snapping.

Your writhing and panting in their hold. Oscar has his arms hooked under your knees to keep you from moving away. Lando's free arm is pressed firmly under your chest. His teeth sucking marks into your neck and collarbone.

"Please." You beg.

"Please what?"

"Please- fuck, can I come?"

"Go ahead, you've been doing so well, your such a good girl."

The coil snaps, and the ecstasy floods every inch of your body. Your body spasms, flailing your limbs in every direction.

The boys hold you firmly in place, determind to ride every second of your high out of you.

You're left panting as you come down. Sweat now glossing over all three of you.

"Wanna keep going?"

You and Lando look at Oscar. His face was completely unfazed. Who know the Aussie could be so insatiable.

"You know, we don't normally do this, but if y/n wants to, I'm okay if you fuck her."

Your mouth drops in shock for the umpteenth time that night. Lando had never let anyone else fuck you and you were okay with it.

Again, new territory.

Oscar looks over at you. His eyes questioning. "Or I'm very willing to take you both at the same time."

Good grief. The stupidly shy bashful Australian boy has the sex drive of an animal in heat.

Normally, it's Lando in charge, but there seems to be a change. He actually likes Oscar. This isn't some attempt at teaching someone a lesson or proving a point. This is a genuine attempt at inviting him in.

You were glad that you got to keep the spot on the bed. More on the edge of the bed now, but still the bed nonetheless.

Oscar is still lapping at your skin like it's a drug. You can feel the marks covering your skin from where he's been sucking at you with his teeth.

Normally, the two of you didn't use lube unless it was an occasion like this. Even then, it wasn't much. Lando thought is would be amazing to use the entire bottle over the three of you. Because apparently, the sweat isn't enough.

Oscar's moans are steadily increasing as Lando continues to work his ass. The Austrian is using you as a human gag to hopefully keep his volume at a reasonable pitch.

Lando likes a stripe onto the back of the Male in front of him. "Do you think you're ready?" He's looking at both of you for confirmation.

It all happens far too quickly for your liking. The fact that all your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. The way the pace was a speed you'd yet to experience (how these boys could snap their hips so fast was beyond you).

Oscar has practically fallen on top of you at this point. Lando is doing his best to keep the Australians full weight off of you. He's not even moving anymore. Lando is moving in and out of him and you by proxy.

It's a weird feeling having the weight of two body's between your hips. Your close and desperately chasing your second high of the night.

Unlucky is the only word that comes to mind as Oscar and Lando reach theirs in sync. The feelings of watching them together are damn near indescribable, and it makes you wish you joined them.

You are also someone who likes to please. This means that faking it seems like the best option.

As you'll soon come to find out, this is far from the a good plan.

Both Oscar and Lando are panting and trying to get resitiated. Both of them eyes you cautiously. Then they look at eachother, then at you, then eachother, until finally they say something.

"Pretty sure I know a fake orgasm when I see one." Comments Oscar.

Lando was unfortunately not able to see you very well, so not only is he glad Oscar was able to read you, but now he's received to know he can see when you're obviously trying to please.

You feel yourself flush and curl your knees over your chest. Guilt? Shame? Lust? All at once? There are too many feelings for your foggy brain right now.

"You should know better, love. Did you think we weren't going to be happy with you?"

You feel yourself slipping into the lovely fuzzy head space and the sound of Lando's almost condescending tone.

"I don't know, Oscar. I think now we need to make sure she can be honest with her body." Lando smirks at the Australian whos still out of breath and supporting himself of the Brit.

Their eyes find yours, and you're met with that hungry look once again. At this point, you've resigned that this night is never going to end, and if you're being perfectly honest, you don't want it too.

"Color?"

"Green."

Then they're pouncing on top of you like they've caught themselves dinner. Hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once.

It's hours later when you're spent. They drew at least five more out of you. All in various different ways.

Now came the most intresting part.

You're a mess lying on the bed. Limbs a twitching pile of mush. Your hair stuck to your skin. Eyes glossed over and head heavy with a thick fog. So deep in your damn head space.

Their mixed words of shame and praise somehow set every one of your nerves alight. You'd been calling both of them a title usually reserved for just Lando, but he hadn't corrected you.

You whine as the pull away. Your body already missing their touch.

"Gotta get you cleaned up, beautiful. Don't want to you to get sick."

A slurred 'yes sir' makes its way out of your mouth. Other words are far too difficult right now.

"Mmm need to know you're here with me."

"I'm here, I think."

Lando is mildly impressed that the two boys managed to put you so deep into the blissful state of mind. His hands stroke your stick thighs as he hums words of praise. Slipping in the occasional gentle kiss to your hand.

Oscar comes back cleaned up first. Still without a shirt, but his sweats are back on. "So aftercare, is there a routine you guys normally have or does it very? Do you want me to go?"

Oscar doesn't miss the frown of your face when he suggests he leaves. "Stay. Please." Again, it's mumbled and slurred, but both boys can tell what you're trying to say.

"No worries, I'm right here." Oscare slides into the bed next to you.

"Wanna stay with her, and I'll clean up? I'll get some rags and things as well. Normally, our third has left without helping me take care of her. Had to take her to the doctor once after Daniel bruised her throat with his hands, and she couldn't talk for a week. So I won't lie, this is new."

"Well I like you both and if you'll have me I'd like to stay around awhile."

There was a knowing look shared between all three of you that even your your state you recognized. Oscar wanted to stay, and you and Lando wanted him to. For more than just the sex.

Lando tossed Oscar a wet rag. To cool damp feeling of the towel felt nice on your skin, making you shower with the sensation.

Lando came back a few minutes later, freshend up, and a hair brush in hand. He slides in behind you and gently threads the comb through your locks.

Eventually, you're able to make it to the bathroom on your own, albeit with shaky legs. Lando gave you one of his shirts to change into with the promise of Oscar bringing some of his clothes for you the next time around.

You're still a little shocked that he wanted a next time.

Carlos had admittedly come back for a few more rounds, but there were never any strings attached. Daniel came back, but that always felt competitive. There was consent and communication involved with both parties but it never felt this... intimate.

The two boys made sure you had water and food, so you didn't feel sick after all the energy you'd exerted. Then you slid into bed between them. Sleep hitting all of you in minutes.

The three of you got away with a hidden relationship for about four months until Lando slipped up in an interview. Your first paddock appearance with the two after that was mildly controversial, but they were quick to shut down invasive reporters and toxic fans.

It was a press conference that Lando finally got to use his signature line.

"Lando, you've recently announced your relationship with your teammate and longtime girlfriend. What sparked this into effect?"

"Well you know what they say, sharing is caring."

You and Oscar can only laugh at the Brit and his stupid catchphrase.

[sleepynoons]

Unconditional

Were you worthy of someone as irreplaceable as him?

ooc!gojo x f!reader, sfw

word count: ~2,300

cw: explicit language, body image issues + insecurities, anxiety attacks

notes: wrote this before gojo got... uh... :)) i also wrote this last year when i had a very different understanding of gojo's character than i do now (cross-posted from my ao3), which is why i labeled him as ooc. anyway, this is my love letter to those who struggle with feeling mediocre and insignificant and unneeded.

TO BE clear, it wasn’t like Satoru was never explicit in his affections for you. In fact, it was the entire opposite – he would plant a disgustingly wet kiss on your forehead every morning, dog whistle when you changed for work, and treat your body like a temple as soon as dusk hit. He drowned you in praises whenever he could, but perhaps that was the issue.

Were you worthy of someone as irreplaceable as him? Gojo Satoru may stroke his own ego by calling himself “the blessed one,” but it wasn't like he was wrong for it. In the jujutsu world, he was the industry’s ultimate weapon. Outside, he was a very striking and sexy man – tall, lean, born with the bluest eyes –, and while he was annoying, grating, and reckless at times, he had awareness and compassion that made him personable and trustworthy.

As a matter of fact, that’s what made you take the leap to become his. You're no jujutsu sorcerer, and you learned just how dangerous Satoru’s job was before you even began to develop feelings for him. Yet the self-assuredness he radiated when he spoke convinced you to trust him. You wouldn’t be able to lose him, even if you wanted to – he is the strongest, and he will continue to be so until he dies.

On the other hand, you were… well, you were just you. You weren’t ugly, but you weren’t stunning or gorgeous. You were neither thin nor thick, and you weren’t especially gifted in any particular intellectual matter. At times, you think, had you been specially endowed or gifted in one way or another, you wouldn’t have this internal turmoil. But in reality, your mediocrity was all you had to work with, and you’re not sure if Satoru’s love for you will last once he realizes that you have little to offer him.

“Hon, you’ve been in there for a long time! Is everything alright?” Satoru’s voice and his knocks on the fitting room door break you out of your trance.

You’ve been standing in front of the mirror in the same dress for a few minutes now. The way the dress sits on your frame dissatisfies you, and you realize that that was probably what triggered your spiraling in the first place.

You quickly respond. “Sorry for making you wait! Let me get changed.”

Right. There was no need to get into your head. It doesn’t matter if you were dating Satoru or someone else; relationships, even marriages and years-long friendships, are fragile in nature, so the only thing you should focus on is appreciating the present.

You unlock the door and let Satoru help you gather your things.

“Anything catch your eye?” he asks as he slips your bag onto his shoulder.

“Not really,” you say. “Let me return the clothes first. Meet you at the store entrance?”

He pouts and peers at you over his sunglasses. “Not even the dress I picked out for you?”

Ah, there was more to it. It was because Satoru had specifically picked out that dress that made you hope it would suit you. You smile apologetically at him before heading out.

The car ride is quiet, aside from the occasional hum that Satoru lets out as the speakers play your playlist. You would have felt much more relaxed, too, had you not noticed your boyfriend’s intense gaze on you. He has been looking at you since the two of you left the store, and while you know he has no bad intentions, his stare is only getting more pointed by the second. To any onlooker, they would think you're overthinking it – and maybe they’re right. After all, Satoru’s posture is still casual, and it’s not like there’s electrifying tension in the air. But still, you have been with Satoru for two years now, and your gut is telling you that if you looked back at him right now, it would only prompt a conversation that you weren’t ready to have. So you don’t return his gaze and, instead, pretend to be distracted by the streetlights and waning moon.

It isn’t until the two of you return to your shared home that he breaks the silence.

“What’s on your mind, hon?” His voice is gentle, laced with concern, gentleness, and curiosity. His tone is coaxing you to be truthful, but a discomfort sits at the bottom of your stomach that holds you back.

You don’t say anything as you take off your shoes, aligning your heels next to each other on the shoe rack. It’s only when you stand back up that you say, “I… I’m not sure if I want to talk right now, Satoru."

He stills behind you, a second longer to tell you that he’s thinking, before he gives you a brief back hug.

“That’s alright. Take your time,” he whispers. You lean into his touch before he pulls away.

Then, he begins to whistle and muses on about dinner as he strides towards the living room. All you can do is follow as you shake your head and chuckle under your breath.

The evening is spent with warm food and a drama playing in the background. The two of you cackle at the silly antics of the characters (“I could probably bench press the antagonist,” Satoru groans) and talk about how the jujutsu students are doing (“You should find some time to let the first- and second-years actually enjoy the amusement park,” you chide).

However, the insecurities never quite leave you. When your boyfriend moves to wrap his arm around your waist, you immediately lean forward, away to grab the remote control to turn the TV volume up. When he tries again – this time, resting his hand over your knee – you switch your posture and adjust the cushion in your lap. You hear Satoru grumble with displeasure but elect to ignore it.

Eventually, after several more attempts of trying to initiate any semblance of physical affection, Satoru finally groans aloud. He reaches over you to grab the remote, turns the TV off, and takes your face in his hands. Now you’re forced to look at him, and without his sunglasses to mute the blue of his eyes, his stare sends a jolting shock through your body.

“Hon, I know I said I would be patient, but this is getting out of hand.” You squirm a little, but his hands are sturdy in cupping your face in place. Like a child, you simply huff and close your eyes. “Oh, c’mon! At least look at me!”

You huff again. “No, I don’t want to.”

It’s silent.

Another moment passes, and Satoru lets go of your face.

It’s too silent.

You wonder if Satoru has teleported away. You’re sure he’s playing with you, but what if he just… gave up? Just like that? Maybe something just clicked in his brain, and he left because he realized you were too naïve and boring and normal for him?

You’re stubborn, but the urge to know overwhelms you and you open your eyes.

He’s still there. Satoru immediately falls back, laughing and rolling on the floor.

You grimace. “I wish you would be that quiet on a daily basis.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Satoru’s laughing so hard, he’s beginning to clutch his sides.

You roll your eyes and begin to stand up. You feel a hand clutch at your wrist, and you glare down at the man(child). “I’m going to clean things up here while you waste away on the floor.”

“That was hilarious!”

“The only thing that’s hilarious here is your shit sense of humor.”

You don’t resist as Satoru pulls you down, wrapping you in his arms as you both lie on the floor. He’s still chuckling, but he’s turned his attention towards soothing you, running one of his hands through your hair and fiddling with the hem of your shirt with the other.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s on your mind?”

You hum, your smile melting off. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and mutter, “Why do you love me, Satoru?”

“I don’t know, there’s too much to love.”

“Cheesy. Bad answer. Give me actual reasons.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

You let out a strangled, muffled cry. “I asked first, Satoru.”

“I'll only answer if you give me context.”

You peer at him, and you see a patient and loving look settle on his face. You don’t want his expression to turn into one of hurt.

Finally, you admit, “I don’t know, I just don’t really get why… you’d date someone like me. It’s not like I’m useful in any way.”

Satoru’s hands continue their motions. He’s unfazed, almost as if he expected you to say this.

“Do you think people love others based on their utility?” he asks.

“To a certain degree, yeah.”

“Okay, so you’re saying you don’t add any value to my life?”

“Well, I hope I do. I just… don’t really know what that value is exactly.” Satoru sighs before lifting both of you into a sitting position, though you’re mostly in his lap. “Listen, I can’t speak for others, but I know I don’t love others just because they do things for me. Hell, Megumi was literally a child when I took him in. What could he have possibly done for me?”

“Be an adorable, chubby baby?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. “Not the point.” You acquiesce. “All I’m trying to say is that our relationship isn’t transactional.”

You huff again. You know you’re acting childish. “But that doesn’t explain why you chose me. Like I’m not special, Satoru. I feel so… unworthy.”

Satoru’s face immediately drops, and he’s holding you tightly. “Why do you feel that way, hon? Am I not loving you properly?”

“No, not at all!” you say. “Satoru, no, sweetheart, this has nothing to do with you. You’re just so good to me. I-I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this.”

You sigh and slump into his hold. Tears are prickling in your eyes, and you feel your face heat up as you overwhelm with a discouraging mixture of shame, embarrassment, and guilt. Yet you hold back because this conversation is already as humiliating as it can get.

“But that’s what I’m trying to say, hon.” Satoru is cradling your head as he speaks to you softly. “My love for you is unconditional. I love you because I am in love with you.”

You shake your head and ask, “In love with what? Mediocrity?” Satoru takes a sharp inhale.

You continue, “Satoru, I’m no model. I’m also not a genius. I’m not particularly talented in anything or especially beautiful, and I’m not even a part of your world. Literally, what is there to love –”

“No one else has loved me for who I am until I met you.”

You look up at him quizzically.

“Listen.” Satoru readjusts your position so that the two of you are sitting facing each other. This time, he's not looking at you. Rather, he looks down at where your knees touch and interlaces your hands with his. “To the higher-ups, I am just the pillar that maintains balance. To the kids, I’m their mentor. And to the others, I’m just a colleague. Not a single person in my life has loved me so deeply before.”

“But what if you had met someone before me who could love you just as deeply, if not more?”

“But I didn’t. And that’s all that matters now.” Satoru takes your hands fully into his. Staring straight at you, he says, “You took me in, knowing all the dangers that come with being my partner. Maybe in another timeline, another universe, you aren’t my lover. But in this one, you are, and I have no intention of letting you go.” He pauses for a brief second before muttering, voice cracking, “I can’t lose you.”

The tears you had held back come streaming down, and you have to bite down on your lip to stifle your sobs. You manage to whisper back, “I can’t lose you, either.”

Satoru kisses you once, twice, thrice. Gentle touches on your lips, only filled with adoration and longing. He continues to press his lips around your face, mumbling praises between each of his actions.

“Beautiful.” Kiss on your forehead. “Compassionate.” Kiss on your nose. “Thoughtful.” Kiss on your temple. “Bright.” And his flurry of kisses and compliments don’t stop until you stop crying. Eventually, you start giggling at the light, feathery sensation, and when he is about to mutter something else, you take the chance to kiss him back.

It’s nothing sensual or breathtaking – just your lips slotted firmly and perfectly against his. But you feel so grounded and content, and the insecurities and anxiety that have been bothering you all day finally fade away. When you break away, Satoru gleams at you with pride and admiration, and you beam back at him.

“Feeling better?” he asks. You nod fervently before giving your boyfriend another quick peck.

“Thank you. Always,” you say.

His eyes crinkle at the sight of you happy and energetic again. “Of course, hon. Anything for you.”

It’s difficult to not fluster at his words sometimes, so you turn away and hide your face behind your arm, denying him any satisfaction.

Satoru whines and says, “Hey, lemme see you. I deserve it for being such a good boyfriend.”

You respond cheekily, “I’ll only admit that you’ve been a good boyfriend if you also wash the dishes.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

You giggle as you slide off the couch. “I’ll leave it to you!”

[sapphire-writes]

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: The end of the fall semester is a week away! One game left before winter break, and you decide to send Aegon a message.

rating: 18+ (detailed warning below the cut)

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ Ch. 7: Superstitious ~ next chapter

warnings: p in v, choking, thigh riding, angst, spanking, hair pulling, language

note: hope you enjoy this chapter! don't hate me too much for the angst you know I can't help myself!!

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“I have to go home,” Helaena tells you, dropping her bag and joining you and Sara on the blanket you’ve laid out on the quad.

Sara lowers her sunglasses. The days have turned significantly colder with the end of the semester looming, but today the sun had decided to show itself, leading to many students skipping their afternoon classes to sunbathe on the quad.

“What are you talking about?” Sara asks, eyebrows furrowing together with confusion.

“There’s still a week left before winter break!” you exclaim, motioning to the books you held in your lap.

Finals season. Finals season was killer. 

Aegon had passed his midterms. He’d sent you an appreciative text that sent you spiraling and then hadn’t texted you since. It had been a couple of weeks. You were sure he’d reach out, especially after his annoyance at you avoiding him. 

But he hadn’t.

You wished it wasn’t eating away at you, but it was. Even when you hung out with Cregan, went on several more dates to dinner, the movies, and ice cream. Your mind constantly wandered back to Aegon. 

Bastard. 

“My dad’s getting worse,” Helaena admitted, crossing her legs as she sat.

You and Sara exchanged a pained glance. You knew Helaena’s father wasn’t doing well, his health had been steadily declining the past few years. He seemed to be pretty stable the past year, Helaena hadn’t shared any updates. 

Aegon hadn’t shared anything with you.

Not that he needed to. What were you even? Friends? Classmates? Lovers? You cringed internally at the thought. 

“I wanted to stay for Egg’s last game before winter break,” Helaena said, shaking her head, 

“But..I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?” Sara probed.

Helaena pursed her lips, eyebrows knitting together. She looked past you and Sara as though seeing something far away that the both of you could not see. 

“Just like…it may be sooner than I thought,” she tells you both, “and I want to be able to say goodbye.”

“What about Aegon?” you blurt out, unable to stop yourself.

Helaena glances at you, but there’s no suspicion in her eyes even as she takes in the blush blooming on your cheeks.

“He’s in the family group chat,” she tells you, “He sees Mom’s texts. I can’t corral all my brothers, they can come if they want to.”

You nod, pulling your eyes away from her gaze.

“Has he mentioned something?” she asks.

“What?” you answer, “To me? Why would he mention something to me?”

Sara grimaces at the defensiveness of your tone. You can feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. 

“You’re his tutor, aren’t you?” she questions.

“We sort of stopped that.”

“Oh,” Helaena says, picking at a loose thread on her jeans, “That’s a shame.”

“Is it?” you ask, “Aegon wasn’t super serious.”

“He was really proud of his midterm, look,” Helaena says grabbing her phone.

She turns the screen to you and you’re greeted by a selfie of Aegon holding the blue test packet up next to his grinning face. His eyes are crinkled with how hard he’s smiling, and his finger points to the B- written in red on the top corner. You can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips or the way your heart begins to beat furiously in your chest as you stare at Helaena’s phone.   

“He worked really hard,” you tell Helaena, “But my tutoring days are over.”

“Maybe Lydia will help him,” Helaena muses, swiping through her notifications.

You tilt your head, curiosity gnawing at your insides. 

“Lydia?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Sara flicks her gaze toward you, raising an eyebrow. Helaena hums, still scrolling through her phone. Sara bites her lip, fighting a laugh before making a curious face.

“Are they dating, Hel?” Sara asks, and you widen your eyes at her.

Sara merely shrugs. 

“Um, well Egg doesn’t really date, but they’ve been spending a lot of time together since formal,” Helaena tells her, finally glancing up from her phone, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious about all the hot men on campus,” Sara says, smiling.

“Gross,” Helaena answers, “Shouldn’t you only be concerned about Jace?”

“I’m very concerned about Jace,” Sara says, placing a hand over her heart, “Concerned about his gorgeous, thick, co-”

“Enough!” Helaena interrupts, covering her ears. 

Sara snickers and you rise from the blanket, gathering your things.

“Where are you going?” Sara asks, watching you pack your bag.

“Class.”

You head out, leaving your friends on the quad without saying another word, stomach churning at the thought of Aegon and Lydia. 

You don’t see Aegon as you’re sitting with Sara in the bleachers before the game. Both of you are clad in Cregan and Jace’s jerseys. 

It’s tradition, the last game before winter break, the end of the first half of the season. 

“You’re dating the goalie, you wear his jersey,” Brandon Karstark had told you.

“Silly superstition,” Arryx argued.

“It’s not like she’s his girlfriend,” Reese Bolton had said.

It was true. You and Cregan had been on several dates and made out in his car, but you hadn’t gone any further. In any way. 

“Doesn’t matter,” John Umber told his friend, “She still has to wear it.”

I see you at another game in his jersey, I’m fucking you in it.

When the team comes onto the ice, the crowd roars, the sound of cheers almost deafening. You watch the team do a lap around the ice, Cregan sparing you a wave, and the flash of a smile, Jace close on his tail. You spot Aegon, he’s hard to miss, at least to you. 

I see you at another game in his jersey, I’m fucking you in it.

His threat lingers in your mind, sending an ache between your thighs. When he looks up at the stands, his violet eyes meet yours. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to make sure your face doesn’t give away any of the mixed emotions you’re feeling. 

Aegon drags his eyes down your face to your chest, drinking in the outfit you’re wearing. You dressed it up, the jersey falling right to the middle of your thighs completely covering the biker shorts you paired underneath. Fishnet tights decorate the rest of your legs and Aegon’s gaze hungrily follows the pattern down to your ankles. 

As he brings his eyes back up to meet yours, you can feel your cheeks burning. Aegon grins, showing all his perfect, pearly white teeth, cocking his head to the side. No words are exchanged between you, but you understand what that look conveys.

You fucked around, you’re about to find out. 

Naturally, after the team wins they head to the hockey house. You’d hoped to cling to Cregan at the party to avoid Aegon, but your plan came crashing down in the last five minutes of the game. A fight broke out on the ice leading to a broken nose and Cregan headed to the ER. 

He insisted you not wait around for him.

“These things take hours,” he told you, voice muffled from the soaked rag pressed against his face, “Seriously, not the first time not the last. Don’t waste your night in the ER.”

So you ended up clinging to Sara instead, effectively cockblocking your best friend to her dismay. 

“Where are you going?” you ask Sara, as she heads upstairs. 

“I’m just running to Jace’s room, will you chill?” she tells you, “Aegon is nowhere to be found. You’re good.”

“Sara,” you begin, but trail off.

What are you supposed to say? Aegon threatened to fuck you, and you went and poked the bear? 

“Relax,” Sara tells you, “I’m going to grab my coat, grab Jace, and then we can go back to the apartment.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Give me five minutes,” she says and disappears upstairs. 

Five minutes go by. 

Then ten.

Then fifteen.

You text her several times. Nothing.

“This fucking whore,” you mutter, heading up the stairs. 

You’re not sure which room is Jace’s. Last time you were in the hockey house you were wasted before you passed out in Aegon’s bed. You try the first door. Locked. You bang on it for a moment, hearing only giggles, none of which sound like Sara. You move down the hall.

An empty room, a bathroom, two girls who throw a shoe at you when you interrupt their rendezvous. And then a silver-haired boy, sat on a small couch next to his bed, violet eyes meeting yours when you open the door.

Aegon.

Shit. 

“Hey bunny,” he says casually, closing the book on his lap, and tossing it onto a side table. 

He leans back, arms spread over the back of the couch. He’s freshly showered, hair still slick with water, droplets falling onto the white t-shirt he wears. He grins at you, eyes falling to Cregan’s jersey you’re still wearing. 

“I’m looking for Sara,” you tell him, going to close the door.

“Funny you should say that,” he says, standing suddenly.

You frown, trying to avoid glancing down, instead focusing on the dark black of his pupils. 

“Why?” you ask.

Aegon walks toward you, slowly, like a lion stalking its prey. He makes his way in front of you, reaching behind you and pressing the door shut. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek, feel the warmth from his chest. 

“I think she’s preoccupied,” he tells you, grimacing. 

“Do you and Jace have telepathically communicate?” you ask, frustrated, “Seriously? Why is he so okay with your scheming?”

“He’s my bro,” Aegon says, feigning offense. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Where are they?” you ask.

“Don’t interrupt their fuc-”

“I don’t care if he’s balls deep Egg!” you say loudly, “Where are they?”

“Your apartment, jeez,” he says, laughing at the groan you release, “They left out the back.”

“I’m going to kill her,” you tell him.

“Don’t be mad, bunny,” he says, reaching for your hand.

Aegon laces his fingers through yours, watching them for a moment before bringing his eyes back to your face. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him, but you don’t pull your hand away.

“Like what?” he asks, swaying slightly.

“Like you’re going to fuck me,” you tell him, “Not happening.”

Aegon sinks his teeth into his lower lip.

“If you didn’t want me to fuck you,” he begins, “Why did you wear that?”

Your face flushes as he motions to the jersey.

“I was very clear,” he tells you, “And you’re a very smart girl.”

You swallow as he brings his hand to the collar of the jersey, rubbing the material between the pads of his fingers. 

“You just trying to be a tease, bunny?” Aegon asks, eyes roaming down your figure, “Cause you look fucking amazing. You know how hard I was on the ice?”

Your breathing has turned shallow, coming out in short pants. 

“You wanna feel how hard you make me?” he asks softly, bringing your hand to his crotch. 

You can feel him, hard and wanting, straining against the jeans he’s wearing. Your lips part slightly as he rocks his hips against your hand. 

“You want to go?” Aegon asks, “This is your chance.”

He rocks against you again, pressing himself against your hand. You can already feel the heat pooling between your thighs, the dull ache beginning. You stare at him and swallow the lump forming in your throat. 

“I don’t want to go,” you breathe and Aegon smiles.

He looks up at you as he begins to sink to his knees. He places a kiss on your stomach, down the tops of your thighs, on your knees, before parting your legs. He drags down your biker shorts, throwing them to a corner of his room.

“I’m going to tear these off with my fucking teeth,” Aegon murmurs, mouthing the fabric of your fishnets, swirling his tongue along the smooth skin of your inner thighs. 

You squirm against his mouth as he presses a kiss to your barely clothed core. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him away from you suddenly. Aegon looks up at you, the picture of perfection, an angel on his knees for you. 

“Get up,” you tell him, and he moves to his feet, his hands never leaving your thighs, traveling over the swell of your hips, up your ribs. 

You move his hands off of you, pushing a hand against his chest to push him down onto the couch. He sits, head tilted back watching you as you straddle his lap. Aegon wraps his hands around your waist and you remove them once more. 

“No,” you tell him, holding his hands above his head. 

You know you must be blushing furiously, you’ve never been this domineering in bed before. Aegon looks up at you as you grind yourself against him, feeling him grow harder beneath you. His jaw is slack, violet eyes are blown black with lust, never leaving your face with every roll of your hips. 

You tilt your head to the side. Fake it till you make it, that’s what Sara says. Pretend you’re confident.

“Why should you get to touch me?” you taunt, wetting your lips.

Aegon’s eyes widen slightly, surprised by your sudden dominance. He smirks, a small laugh leaving his perfect lips. 

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it,” Aegon says softly, fire in his violet eyes.

He doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t twist his wrists from your grasp. 

“No, I don’t think so,” you tell him, “I don’t share with anyone. Got it?”

“There’s no one else,” Aegon answers immediately, “No one but you.”

You tilt your head to the side, a smirk sliding onto your face. 

“You’d lie to my face?” you tease, “I know you’ve been seeing Lydia, Hel told me.”

“I’m not seeing Lydia,” Aegon tells you, “Well, I’m not anymore.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“What about you, hypocrite?” Aegon asks, tilting his chin up at you, “Still walking Cregan like a dog, I see.”

Then he tugs his wrists free, snaking a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you closer so his lips ghost the shell of your ear. 

“He fuck you like I do?” he murmurs, pressing a hot kiss below your ear. 

Your eyes flutter shut as his free hand moves to grab your ass. 

“He make you cum as hard as I do?” he asks, kissing a trail down your neck. 

You wet your lips, fingers tangling in his hair pulling him closer.

“Yeah, he does,” you breathe and you can feel Aegon smile against you.

“Fucking dirty little liar,” he says, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss is hungry and desperate; Aegon’s hand holds your neck so you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. When Aegon kisses you, you want him to consume you completely. 

He slips you almost completely off his lap, so you’re straddling his thigh. Your eyes widen as he presses you down against him.

“C’mon ride it,” he tells you, “I know you know how.”

You meet his eyes and he grins. He fucking knew. Of course, he did.

You roll your hips against him, just like that first night at the hockey house. His hands cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as you grind against him. 

“Just like that, there’s my good girl,” he purrs, dragging a hand up your back.

You whimper as he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough for your air supply to be deliciously depleted. The friction is perfect as his jean-clad thigh presses against your warm center, every roll of your hips sending sparks of pleasure dancing throughout your body.

“You gonna cum? Or do you need an audience like last time?” he teases, referencing the party.

“Fuuuck,” you choke, as Aegon tightens his grip and your curse turns into a high-pitched keen as your orgasm floods through you. 

Aegon releases your throat, picking you up and standing, moving to throw you on the bed. He roughly turns you onto your hands and knees. You push onto your forearms as Aegon’s hands move near your center, tearing through the fabric of your fishnets. 

“I liked those!” you hiss, feeling him move the lace of your thong out of the way.

You hear him chuckle darkly, hear the zipper of his pants and feel the tip of his fat cock sliding through your slick folds.

“You’ll like this more,” he tells you, “Promise, bunny.”

Then he’s sinking into you and every witty retort you can think of slips from your head. Aegon rocks his hips against yours and your hands clutch the comforter seeking purchase. You grit your teeth, trying to not give him the satisfaction of a moan. 

“Oooh, you are mad at me, huh?” Aegon teases, delivering a harsh thrust.

You bite the inside of your cheek, falling from your forearms, cheek pressing against the bed as Aegon continues to pound into you, bringing a hand down to slap your ass. The mark stings and Aegon rubs his hand over it before delivering another blow. 

A whimper escapes your lips when he angles his hips just right, the head of his cock bullying into your sweet spot. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he leans forward, focusing on the spot he’s located. 

“C’mon tell me how good it feels,” Aegon says, snapping his hips.

He brings his hand to the back of your head, pulling you up by your hair. 

“Tell me,” he whispers in your ear. 

“Fuck,” you moan, unable to help yourself.

“Touch that pretty little clit, right now,” he demands, and you bring your hand between your legs.

You rub nice slow circles around your aching clit, fingertips brushing against Aegon’s cock each time it slides in and out.

“There’s my good girl,” Aegon croons, “Even when she’s mad she listens so well.”

Gods there’s something about his voice, something about the way he talks you through it, it has your back arching, moans and whines spilling from your lips as you’re thrown over the edge once more, cunt spasming around his cock. 

Aegon slows his thrusts as you cum, still painfully erect as he pulls out, tapping the side of your ass. You turn around, laying on your back, panting as you look up at him. 

He holds his tongue between his teeth, eyes falling to your chest. 

“Take that fucking thing off,” he tells you and you move the jersey over your head. 

“And that,” he says motioning to your bra.

That lands on the floor as well, leaving you in your ruined fishnets and thong. Aegon climbs on top of you, dragging his mouth across your breasts, stopping to roll your nipples between his teeth and tug on them harshly. 

He continues to worship your body with his mouth before he slides himself back into your warm, tight center. You lock your legs around his waist, raising your hips to meet his thrusts. 

“Do I fuck better than him?” Aegon asks, “Tell me.”

You meet his eyes then, and you know your facade has faded. Aegon smiles then, showing all his teeth.

“You haven’t even fucked him, have you?” Aegon asks.

You don’t answer, trying to capture his lips in a kiss. Aegon turns his head from your needy lips.

“You are my good girl,” Aegon tells you, sending fire pooling in your belly.

“Yes,” you whimper, “Yes, I am.”

Aegon kisses you then as a reward, slow and sensual as he thrusts deeply into you. He’s so deep inside you, your denials from earlier spill past your lips.

“You fuck me so well,” you whimper, “No one could fuck me like you.”

You know you might regret the confession, but you can’t find it in you to care at the moment. 

“I know baby, love fucking you,” he murmurs against your mouth, “God this pussy, fucking made for me.”

“Fuck yes yes right there-!” you whine as he presses himself into you.

Tears blur your vision as your legs begin to tremble with the promise of your third release. 

“Oh god, oh fuck-” you squeak as your third orgasm rips through you, Aegon never slowing his merciless pace all the while.  

“So fucking good,” Aegon moans as your pussy clenches, milking his cock until you feel him twitching inside you, the warmth of his release painting your inner walls. 

He kisses you slowly and passionately, with his cock still nestled deep inside of you. As he pulls out of your warmth he keeps his arms around you, dragging you to lay across his chest. Your breathing returns to normal, your limbs feeling like jelly as you listen to the steady drumming of his heartbeat. 

“You can’t have it both ways, you know,” you tell him, not looking into his eyes. 

You expect to feel him tense beneath you, to tell you to stop being jealous. Or dramatic. Or not as easygoing as other situationships. Something Jason would say. Something Jason had said to you. 

“You can’t get mad at me for seeing Cregan and then go screw Lydia Tyrell,” you continue, nervously chewing on your lip. 

You feel Aegon’s hand on the back of your head, smoothing your hair. 

“I know,” he tells you, chest rumbling, “I just wanted to see you sweat a little.”

You lift your face, resting your chin on his chest to look at him. He glances down at you, a sly smile on his face. 

“What?” he asks.

“You’re not seeing Lydia?” you ask, heart beating erratically. 

Aegon shakes his head and you whack him on the chest. 

“Ow!” he says, wincing. 

“You’re such a dick!” you tell him and he rolls until he’s on top of you.

He presses his lips to yours and the rude words slip from your mind as his tongue caresses your bottom lip. Aegon presses his body against yours, the weight of him against you bringing a fresh way of arousal to your center. 

“I’d like to be seeing you,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he nips your lower lip, eager for him to sheath himself within you once more.

“Helaena is going to kill us,” you tell him, kissing him back nonetheless.

“We don’t have to tell her,” he murmurs between kisses.

You freeze suddenly, pulling your lips from his. 

A secret. You’re going to be a secret. That’s almost worse. Shame twists in your gut, and Aegon senses a shift in your mood as you rise, slipping Cregan’s jersey back over your head and your biker shorts back on. 

Aegon sits up slightly, cocking his head.

“What?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“Nothing,” you tell him, running a hand through your hair, “I just have to go.”

“Now?” Aegon asks, his voice breaking into a whine, “Y/N, stay with me-”

“No I have to go,” you insist, grabbing your shoes. 

Your tights are ruined, hanging on you in tattered pieces but you don’t care. You need to get out, need to leave before the tears blurring your vision spill over. 

Aegon’s brow creases, he stands up taking the bedsheet with him, clutching it against his stomach to cover himself.

“Y/N what did I do?” Aegon asks, concern lacing his tone.

You sigh, hand on the door before forcing a smile on your face and turning to him.

“Nothing. You’re just being Aegon,” you tell him, “Forgot who you were for a minute, it’s all good.”

Pain flashes across his features for a moment and a tear escapes your eye. You wipe it away furiously before pulling his bedroom door open.

“I’ll see you around,” you call, not looking back as the dam within you breaks.

You hurry down the stairs and out of the hockey house into the cold night air, hurrying down the quiet streets of your college campus eager to get back to your apartment.

You can’t help but cry, cursing as you pass a group of drunk girls who stop when they see you, insisting you tell them what’s wrong. Finally, you make it home, walking into your dark apartment. You’re greeted by Baela on your couch, who rises as you enter.

“Y/N-” she says, biting her lip.

“Bae? What's wrong?” you ask.

“Helaena called…her dad…” Bae starts, tears falling, “He passed away tonight.”

Your heart nearly stops beating. You dig mindlessly into your purse for your phone, hands shaking.

8 missed calls.

She tried calling you. For the past hour or so. The entire time you were with Aegon. Guilt pours through your limbs and you’re sobbing earnestly now, Baela holding you against her. There’s one more missed call, more recently, just about ten minutes ago.

Aegon.

note: I hope you enjoyed my loves! Again, don't hate me too much for the angst I truly cannot help myself!

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@padfooteyes, @nina2697, @julieeba, @darkenchantress, @heavenly1927, @fan-goddess, @possiblyafangirl, @n4tforlife, @serving-targaryen-realness, @bubblyabs, @cicaspair418, @jamespotterismydaddy, @tssf-imagines, @platonichug, @tosiaf, @skikikikiikhhjuuh, @rwdkarla, @partypoison00 @moira-strangle-me-please @clairacassidy, @sh4dowrav3n, @okfashionista, @kravitzwhore, @queenofshinigamis, @misspendragon, @marytargaryen, @dope-trope-105, @imarimon, @whoisalexa, @oneeyedvisenya, @valeskafics, @aemondsmoon, @doublesparrows, @namelesslosers, @fidelias @imarimon @trifoliumviridi

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[lieutnt]

well of course this is coming now i lied they were totally related. alex w daddy kink? he always gave me the vibes hes had some girl call him it once and was like yeah okay. sure. why not. and never really gave it any thought until readers fucked him so stupid he just randomly blurts it out and is internally like AM I INTO THAT? but reader jus finds it hot and goes harder <3

okay thank u love you kisses

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Daddy kink, rough sex.

He thinks it doesn’t really affect him - sure he’s been called daddy before, but he just assumed that’s what his partner wanted and went along with it, even if it didn’t really make him feel anything. At least, that’s what he thought, until a bad day turned into a bad week and by the end of it he was falling into your arms, looking at you with those pretty blue eyes and pleading for you to take him out of his head for a while.

So that’s what you do, pound him into the mattress until his brain turns to mush and he loses all control of his mouth, unable to stop the mixture of babbling words and moans that pour out. Most of them are nonsense gibberish, nothing you haven’t heard before from Alex, until one hard, particular thrust jostles his body, and it slips out before he can even think; “Daddy.”

It sobers him up real quick, the reality of what he said crashing down on him. You feel it below you, the way he’s back in the room and beginning to overthink, so before he can spiral too far you’re yanking him up, one hand tightly holding his hip while the other crosses his chest to keep him pressed against you. 

He’s ready to brush it off, downplay it, until your harsh thrusts turn into deep grinds that have all thoughts scattering from his brain. Goosebumps quickly rise to the surface of his skin when you move closer to his ear, “That what you want baby? You want daddy to take care of you?”

That definitely strikes something within him, the way his hole clenches around you and Alex vigorously nods, choking on his own moans when you pick up speed again. You push him back down and take hold of his hips, gripping tight as you go harder, Alex wasting little time in testing out his new kink as he chants “Daddy.”

He moans the loudest you’ve heard in a while when you speak again. “That’s it, just let daddy take care of you.”

[nrdmssgs]

Spiraling

Masterlist Part 2 (in case you need a happy ending)

Very mild angst Pairing: Ghost x you TW: no Summary: Ghost understanding, something very important just slipped through his fingers. AN: this is kinda sorta songfic. Here is the inspiration.

The worst part is that Ghost can't even get mad at you. He was never there to show you true love, you were never there to break his heart. There were no promises, no occasional touches or stolen glances. There were these two evenings: each beautiful in its own way.

On the first one, the squad was resting after a successful operation, waiting for a transport to pick them up. A large group of soldiers gathered around you and Ghost came closer to find out what was going on. The southern sky was strewn with large, bright stars. Not a single cloud hovered over the desert, so it was a perfect opportunity for stargazing. Time to time you raised you hand up, searched for a next constellation and did this strange, unpractical move: you pointed on the constellation, drawing an invisible line between stars and then pretended to grab it. Ghosts mind blurted out some jibe about you obviously being too short to grab a star. So he sat on the ground behind others, to say it out loud, when you pause. Only to find himself alone on the ground, staring up at the sky. "Lieutenant? Ghost?" Your voice brought him back to reality. "Our heli is here. Are you alright?" He nodded and was ready to stand up, when you offered him a hand. He reached out automatically and you grabbed his hand. It was almost pointless since you were much smaller, but still you helped him. Grabbing his hand like one of those stars, you'd never reach.

The other evening happened much later. Ghost could say, he got used to seeing you around. There were still no chats outside work topics, no interactions at all as soon as any of you was off to home. It was the way it was supposed to be: clean and professional. Ghost was in his office tending to paper work, when you knocked and entered. "Lieutenant, I wanted to let you know, I'll be spending the next few months away from this base. Volunteered to train international corps." Ghost nodded, not even raising eyes from his papers. "There is one more thing. I like working with you and plan to keep it on. But lately I've felt distracted, when you are around." His hand froze, not even finishing signing the last form. That sounded not good. So he finally looked up on you, only to find your absolutely peaceful smiling face. "Don't worry, I won't let it grow. We are all adults here, and I am planing to work here, not search for any kind of informal bonds. That's why I decided to take this job. Just wanted to be honest, ok?" Ghost nodded again, much slower this time. "Ok. Now go show them, how it's done." You left his office, and he tried to remember, where was he. But after a few attempts he understood, it was utterly pointless: his mind was racing somewhere. And that rush felt easy, even joyful. It was a good thing, you two were colleagues and there always was this formal barrier between you. But it was also a good thing, you were so mature and honest. It made him feel safe. His borders were secure. Somewhere deep inside, he was smiling.

Two evenings, they weren't even filled with anything special. So why the hell he felt as if a white-hot sting was deepening into his stomach, when in a few months he got a short message from you.

"The problem is dealt with. I'll be staying here for a little longer. Staying frosty."

You come back in almost half a year. Calm, polite, effective and professional - Ghost couldn't wish for a better squadmate. He finds himself observing you from afar. In theory, he must like, what he not even sees, but rather feels: you are at peace, you are over this. But a traitorous voice somewhere deep inside chuckles, "That easy, really? A few months to erase me, a few more - to consolidate success - and that's it?"

"It's good to be back, Lieutenant." You give his hand a firm, short shake.

"You aren't back," hisses something from the back of his mind, but Ghost only scoffs at it.

Too little too late, Riley.

That day, he finishes paperwork earlier and locks in his room. He sinks on his bed and watches evening lights slowly crawling across the ceiling. Simons' mind begins to spiral as he lays there, heartbroken over a love that never even happened.

[mychlapci]

so I was chatting with a buddy of mine a few days ago, and my brainworms conjured up titan preggers in the sense that those tiny baby sparklets they conceive? Just like mama Primus'(titans are just Primus' oldest children when the largest contingent of Unicron's cum condensed to ignite the heaviest sparks before the process evened out) and the Well of Allsparks, fresh sparks ignite when there is enough robocum fizzling on the inside of their delicate meshes.

But you see, all those sparks are normal mecha-sized sparks. They're sooooo tiny in contrast to their massive gestation chambers and chasmic valves, their gigantic carriers have to rely on internal monitors to keep and eye on them. So these titans will exhibit all carrying symptoms even if they can't /feel/ where the sparklets have been deposited on their insides unless the entirety of their forge walls are covered in itty bitty baby sparklets.

Now, I like to imagine that every part of a titan can be converted into a functional facility that can accommodate normal sized mecha; this includes their valves and gestation chambers of course.

Just imagine how cavernous that shaft of a valve would be as mecha make pilgrimages up that slick surface to enter the forge, their little feet tickling the resident titan and charging them up so good. Sometimes they'd even convert their valves into being a part of the subway system, tightening just enough to still let trainformers pass through them, giving the mecha a pussy express shortcut to their holy destination: the soakhouse in the gestation chamber.

It's like a bathhouse, but you mainly go there to soak like in a hotspring or an oil pool. And of course, participate in various orgies while within. I mean, with how fertile everything smells when covered in the titan's juices, how can a bot resist? But do remember though, if you want to fuck inside the host, you best be sure to be ready to take up the responsibility if you happen to leave a happy little bundle of joy behind. Not that it's a definite guarantee, it's like a 1 in 3 chance, but still.

Because if you get a titan pregnant, they will never let you traverse through them peacefully until you go back in there and continue feeding the growing sparklet with your transfluid. Best hope your spray game is up to par if the sparklet is attached to high places. You can of course try to placate them by interacting with the physical features inside them, like rutting against any surface, like their missile silo shaft of a valve or against the spiral doors to their forge. You can even suck off the various fixtures in the soakhouse, like showerheads, faucets, gate pistons etc, but they still won't let you out until you nourish their sparklets.

Primes in particular are banned from spilling their seed inside the soakhouse, because the Matrix makes their cum extra fertile. This is why Rodimus gets locked in the cuck chair every time the lads say they're going for a soak in the bath house. FortMax and Metroplex are kind of tired of Rodimus knocking them up too many times.

Like don't get them wrong, they like the feel of those little adorable sparklings hatching and popping out from their casings after fully developing, falling into their liquids and crawling all over their insides until the pilgrims arrive to pick them up. But they're very, very tired of having sparklings with Rodimus' annoying temperament when they could have bitlets from the pick of an entire populace of diverse sparklines tochoose from yeah.

They singlehandedly repopulate/colonise any region they settle on after all, it's only fair that they should be allowed some extent of fussiness, no? Think about it, do you want Autobot City on Earth to be filled with nothing but baby Hot Rods? Not even Metroplex has the patience for a city full of mini Hot Rods.

The MetroProwlMagnus fic is coming along very painfully. I hate being in university sometimes-🔌

oughhhHhh i love this, i am writing this down immediately.

This is like a perfect mix between perverted mechpreg and normal transformer reproduction. Yes, cybertronians are forged in caves deep underneath the surface of cybertron, created from sentient metal and spark energy. and the caves? Pussy and uterus. Dripping and pregnant and so very fun to bathe in. And it's an extremely pleasant experience for the titan themself, who'll be overloading constantly as the little hands and feet of their citizens stroke their walls.

The sparklings hang from the ceiling and the walls of the forge, pulsing with life energy, each of them encased in a soft sack of energon and transfluid... I absolutely love the idea that as long as they have a titan with them, cybertronians can mostly reproduce wherever they settle. All they need to do is turn their large friend on and they'll be birthing a new population in no time. It's probably a little scary for the inhabitants of Earth... but it's not like they're gonna overtake them or anything!

ahshsjagsh and of course, Rodimus needs to be locked out of the bathhouses. He already has too many babies out there in the world, they don't need more.

[everybodyshusband]

per aspera ad inferi ; chapter one

[aka: the university ghouls fic]

aeon & dew (ghost band)

general | gen | 1.7k words | alternate universe (university), transmasc aeon, slow burn, general domestic niceness

tagging @midnight-moth for the biscuit tin idea that makes an appearance in this chapter and also for cheering this au on <3 same goes for @divine-misfortune and @ghoultrifle, thank you for indulging me in my university ghouls rambles and adding to the brainrot <3 i hope this first chapter lives up to your expectations :)

snippet and ao3 link under the cut !!

He smiles awkwardly and looks down at his lap. “Thanks, Mum…” He tightens his grip on the biscuit tin that’s resting on his knees. The two of them spent all of yesterday afternoon in the kitchen together baking batches upon batches of his favourite chocolate biscuits to take with him. The tin on his lap is filled to the brim but it’s barely half of what they made together, the rest are in a selection of reusable plastic containers, the idea being that once Aeon has eaten the biscuits he’ll be able to use the containers for storing things or bringing his own lunch to places instead of buying it. He takes the lid off of the tin on his lap and brings it to his nose, sniffing deeply. Chocolate. He’s sure over the next few weeks, he’ll come to associate the smell and taste of these biscuits with home and his mum but he doesn’t mind, there are much worse scents to associate with home, he reasons. He picks one of the biscuits up and silently offers it to his mum without looking away from the tin.

He doesn’t need to hear the smile in her voice to know that she’s glancing over at him briefly with that ever-knowing look in her eye. “Thank you, love. You should have one too, chase those nerves away with chocolate-y goodness.”

“I’m not nervous,” he lies, pointedly ignoring the weight of his mum’s gaze—the heaviness thankfully lessened due to the fact that she’s mostly focussing on the road. “...Okay fine, I’m a little nervous,” he admits, not that he needed to, given that the two of them already knew it, but it’s nice to speak the words out loud to an actual human for once. Up until now the only ‘person’ he’s admitted it to has been his favourite stuffed toy in the nights leading up to his departure, which, no matter how many different ways he thinks about, makes him feel ridiculously childish, despite the fact that he’s currently on his way to start university. He knows that lots of people his age and older still have stuffed animals and plushies of all varieties but he’s never met anyone that still talks to them in the way that he does. It doesn’t bother him much usually, but the fact that he’s going to be sharing a room with someone he’s never met before—someone who might judge him—is beginning to affect him more and more the closer he gets to campus.

“I can hear you thinking over there.” His mum’s voice breaks through the beginnings of his internal spiralling. “What’s going on, hun? Talk to me.”

“I’m just nervous about meeting my roommate,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing serious.”

[read the rest on ao3 !!]