#shes saying she gets to express her beauty in a way that matches who she is

[chopper-witch]

Thinking about how Gwendoline Christie loved her role in Wednesday bc it made her feel beautiful and hundreds of thousands of people had to comment about how she has always been beautiful and completely missed her point.

[pucksandpower]

Best Laid Plans

Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!Reader

Summary: you were just supposed to be a means to an end — a way for Carlos to get back at your father for dropping him — but the best laid plans often go awry and you quickly become so much more than that

Warnings: 18+ content and manipulation

Note: did I spend the whole day writing this to celebrate Carlos’ win? Maybe …

So much love to @struggling-with-drivers for always giving me the best ideas

The warm Portuguese sun beats down on Carlos as he strolls through the luxurious resort grounds, trying and failing to shake the anger simmering inside him.

How could Ferrari do this to him? After all he has given to the team over the past few seasons? To be so unceremoniously dumped for Lewis fucking Hamilton is a slap in the face he can barely comprehend.

He kicks at the pebbled path, hands jammed in his pockets, catching the eye of a young woman lounging by the pool up ahead. She gives him a warm smile that does strange things to his insides for a moment before he recognizes her — Y/N Vasseur.

The reality of who she is hits Carlos like a truck. The daughter of the team principal who betrayed him.

An idea begins to form in Carlos’ mind, a cruel little seed taking root. If Ferrari wants to play hardball, he can play harder. And what better way to get back at Fred than through his precious daughter?

Putting on his most charming grin, Carlos changes course to approach you. “Y/N, fancy running into you here,” he lies easily. “I didn’t realize you were vacationing at this resort too.”

You sit up, shielding your eyes against the sun’s glare. “Carlos! What a pleasant surprise.” Your smile is bright and genuine, setting off warning bells in the back of Carlos’ mind. He quickly silences them — this is just collateral damage.

“I was just getting ready for a dip. Care to join me?” You gesture towards the welcoming blue waters.

Carlos pretends to consider it for a moment. “You know what, I would love to.”

Stripping off his shirt, he can’t help but sneak glances at your swimsuit-clad figure as you slide into the pool, telling himself it’s just for show. You really are stunning though, he has to admit. This might not be so difficult after all.

“So what’s a beautiful young woman like yourself doing all alone at a place like this?” Carlos asks once he’s waded in beside you.

You let out a tinkling laugh, sweeping wet hair away from your face. “Taking a much needed break from real life, I suppose. My job can be … demanding at times.”

That piques Carlos’ interest — to be quite honest, he had just assumed you did nothing all day. “Oh? Do tell, I’m fascinated.”

With a bashful look, you launch into an explanation of your high-powered career that genuinely impresses Carlos despite himself. You’re whip-smart, articulate, and passionate about your work in a way he can relate to.

“Wow,” he finds himself saying once you’ve finished. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting that from you. Not that I’m judging a book by its cover or anything!” He adds quickly at your arched eyebrow.

You let out another of those bright laughs. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot. People see a privileged girl and make all sorts of assumptions.”

There’s a hint of bitterness underlying the lightness of your tone that Carlos picks up on all too well. He knows what it’s like to be looked down on and underestimated.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you do is really impressive,” he finds himself saying honestly. “And anyone who thinks less of you for it is a fool.”

The words seem to catch you off guard for a moment before your expression melts into a warm smile. “Why Carlos Sainz, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

He grins back unrepentantly. “Is it working?”

You pretend to consider it for a moment before laughing again. “Maybe a little.”

The flirtatious back-and-forth continues as you both float lazily in the pool, Carlos quickly getting caught up in the effortless fun of it. You match him quip for quip, parry for parry, in a way he’s not used to from women. It’s exhilarating and unexpected.

In fact, he’s so caught up in your company that he nearly forgets his original intention entirely. Until a stray thought brings the memory crashing back down … you’re Fred Vasseur’s daughter.

The realization is like a bucket of cold water being upended over Carlos’ head. What is he doing? This woman hasn’t done anything to wrong him. Going after you just to get petty revenge on your father is ugly and uncalled for. He should just be the bigger man, swallow the insult Ferrari dealt him, and move on.

But then he thinks about the disrespect, the callousness of dumping him like dead weight after all he bled for the team. Perhaps a little payback is in order after all.

With a wicked grin, Carlos begins swimming slowly towards you, an unmistakable glint in his eye. You seem to pick up on it, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What’s that look for?”

“Just thinking,” he murmurs once he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “About how I could make this vacation even more … memorable.”

His heavy-lidded gaze drops to your lips for just a moment, but you catch it. You bite your lower lip unconsciously as heat blazes between you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” Carlos all but purrs, reaching out to gently cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You shiver despite the warmth of the day, eyelids fluttering. “If you’ll allow me?”

For a long stretch, you seem to be rendered speechless, pupils blown wide as you study his face intently. Then, so softly, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission Carlos needs before he’s crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like a jolt of electricity courses through Carlos. He kisses you deeply, urgently, all thoughts of revenge or ill-intent evaporating from his mind. This is pure want, unbridled desire singing through his veins.

You return the kiss with equal fervor, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Your mouth is warm, soft, pillowy — everything Carlos didn’t know he was craving until this very moment. He skims his hands over the slick curves of your body beneath the pool’s surface, marveling at the gasps and sighs he pulls from you with each exploratory touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting heavily, faces flushed. Carlos drinks in the sight of you — hair tousled, lips swollen, and eyes dark with wanting. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer and something primal uncurls in his lower belly.

Instead of responding, he simply crushes his mouth to yours once more, walking you backward until your back gently hits the pool’s tiled edge. You let out a muffled moan as he settles between your parted thighs, the heated line of his body flush against yours.

One of his hands slides up over the soft skin of your ribs to cup your breast as you arch shamelessly into his touch. He drags his lips in hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the way you keen beneath his attention.

“You feel so good, cariño,” he rumbles against the feverish skin just below your ear, punctuating the words with a deliberately slow roll of his hips that has you releasing a broken whimper. “So fucking perfect ...”

In this moment, with you writhing and mewling in his arms, Carlos has never been more grateful for his commitment to physical fitness. He knows he can keep this up all day if need be, ravishing you over and over until you’re a limp, sated puddle.

He runs his tongue in a scorching path up the side of your neck before returning to that sinful mouth, swallowing your desperate little moans hungrily. You cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, nails raking deliciously over his back and shoulders in a way that will surely leave marks. Carlos loves it, loves the proof of your passion painted on his skin in thin red lines.

Trailing his lips across the hinge of your jaw, he murmurs “Should we take this somewhere more private, princesa?”

You let out a shuddering breath, hips canting up instinctively to meet each roll of his. “God, yes ... please ...”

The sound of your needy whine sends a molten thrill straight to Carlos’ cock. He’s fully hard and aching for you, straining against his swim trunks with every second that passes. If possible, he wants you even more.

With a grunt of effort, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hikes your legs up around his waist in one swift motion. You let out a startled squeak that quickly dissolves into a moan as he shifts against you just right, creating delicious friction. Your arms wind around his neck as you bury your face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“You feel that, cariño?” Carlos rumbles darkly. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Stretching you so perfectly full of me. Will you be a good girl and take it? Every. Last. Inch?”

He emphasizes each of the final three words with a firm grind of his hips, rutting his rigid length against your clothed heat. Your back bows in response, mouth dropping open on a silent wail of pleasure. Carlos can feel your sticky wetness soaking through the thin material of your swimsuit bottoms and groans harshly.

“P-please ...” You keen, worrying his earlobe between your teeth. “I need you, Carlos. I need it so bad ...”

And just like that, the trance is broken. Carlos blinks, suddenly acutely aware that you’re grinding shamelessly against each other in the very public pool area of this high-end resort. A few pointed looks from other guests are enough to have a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Clearing his throat, he reluctantly pulls himself back and sets you on your feet. You let out a disappointed whimper that goes straight to his groin.

“P-perhaps we got a bit carried away, princesa,” Carlos huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more … private to continue this?”

You bite your plump lower lip and Carlos has to resist the urge to lean forward and free it with his teeth. Nodding eagerly, you cast a look around before tugging his hand and heading for the exit, leaving a trail of water droplets in your wake.

Carlos follows eagerly, openly ogling the way your soaked swimsuit hugs every tantalizing curve. He’s never been so grateful for his decision to book one of the private beachfront villas at this resort — just a stone’s throw from where you’re leading him, he’ll finally be able to have you all to himself.

The thought has him semi-frantically fumbling for the keycard as you press urgent, open-mouthed kisses to any patch of bare skin you can find — his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw. By the time he gets the door open you’re both panting like you’ve run a marathon, desire thrumming white-hot through your veins.

The second you’re inside, Carlos has you pressed back against the door, forearms braced on either side of your head as he towers over you. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your features and he’s abruptly reminded of who you are.

“Are you sure about this?” He murmurs lowly, searching your eyes. “Because if we do this, I can promise you there’s no going back for me, cariño.”

You visibly swallow hard but then give a small, determined nod. “I want this, Carlos. I want you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s capturing your lips in another searing, desperate kiss that has you melting against him. He walks you backward, never breaking contact until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the plush bed. With a growl, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hitches your legs around his hips once more.

You let out a breathless giggle as he tumbles you both down onto the soft cotton sheets, immediately rolling until he’s blanketed by the gorgeous expanse of your body. God, you’re even more stunning like this — hair fanned out in a tousled riot, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, eyes glazed with naked wanting.

Carlos takes a moment just to appreciate the view, raking his eyes over every inch he can see. A tremor goes through you beneath his weighty gaze and he smirks, leaning down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your slender throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, princesa,” he rumbles against your overheated skin. “How many times I’ve thought about having you just like this, spread out beneath me and begging for it ...”

The truth is, he hasn’t thought about it at all until this very day. But something about the way your breath hitches and your hips cant up instinctively at his words makes Carlos want to keep going.

“I’ve watched you, you know,” he lies smoothly, relishing the full-body shiver that wracks your frame. He nips along the graceful line of your collarbone and you whine softly in the back of your throat. “Couldn’t tear my eyes away whenever you were around. Imagining what delicious little sounds you might make with my cock buried inside you ...”

You moan then, loud and unabashed as you tug needily at his hair to bring his mouth back up to yours. Carlos chuckles darkly into the kiss, reveling in how utterly desperate he’s managed to make you for him so quickly.

“Is this what you want, princesa? You want me to fuck you?” He keeps his tone a low, filthy rasp against the plush of your lips. “Hard and deep and ruthless until you can’t remember anything but my name on your tongue?”

“Yes!” The word rushes out in an urgent whine and Carlos lets out a feral growl, slamming his hips firmly against yours in one rough grind that has your mouth dropping open on a broken cry of ecstasy.

Moving with purposeful efficiency, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms and tugs them down over the swell of your hips and off completely. He shoves his own trunks down just far enough to free his throbbing length, giving it a few firm strokes to spread the pearling bead of precome over the swollen head.

With a low, heated look, Carlos hitches your legs over his shoulders and lines the blunt head of his cock up with your entrance. Just from this angle, he can see how slick and swollen you already are for him, glistening with arousal.

“Last chance, cariño,” he rumbles, rubbing himself in one deliciously torturous swipe through your folds and back again. You moan loudly, back bowing off the bed. “After this, I won’t be able to stop until you’re utterly ruined for anyone else’s touch ...”

The sound you make is practically inhuman, hand shooting out to grasp at his hip almost painfully hard. “Carlos … Carlos, please!”

Never one to deny such a desperate plea, Carlos braces one hand beside your head and slowly, inexorably begins to sink into your welcoming heat.

The tight, slick heat of your core enveloping Carlos inch by agonizing inch is utterly sublime. He has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself right then and there. You’re impossibly tight, so perfectly molded to his shape — he’s never felt anything quite like it.

Beneath him, you keen softly as he stretches and fills you in one steady glide. Your fingernails bite crescent moons into the firm planes of his back as if you’ll fall apart if not anchored to him. Carlos rumbles his approval low in his chest at the sweet sting.

Once he’s fully sheathed, hips flush with yours, he pauses to simply bask in the feeling for a long moment. You feel so indescribably good wrapped around his throbbing length — hot and snug and fluttering subtly like your body can’t decide whether to grip him tighter or ease his way.

“Fuck, cariño ...” The words tear from Carlos’ throat in a ragged groan. “You feel incredible. So perfect for me.”

You whimper wordlessly in response, flexing and releasing your inner muscles in a way that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He captures your mouth in a filthy, demanding kiss to swallow your desperate little noises. It’s all he can do not to start pounding away with reckless abandon.

Pulling back slowly until just the thick head of his cock remains inside your clutching heat, Carlos locks eyes with you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted enticingly with each panting breath, the picture of wanton desire. He’s never seen anything so erotic in his life.

You must read the promise in his expression because suddenly you’re nodding frantically and chasing his retreating hips with a needy whine.

“Please, Carlos!” You keen desperately, nails scoring lines of fiery pleasure-pain down the rigid plane of his back. “I need it, I need you to-”

He doesn’t let you finish, snapping his hips forward in one hard thrust that buries him to the hilt. The broken cry that tears from your perfect lips goes straight to his dick.

Carlos repeats the harsh, punishing rhythm over and over, relishing the snug drag of your velvet walls against his aching cock. He soon has you a mewling, mindless mess beneath him, whining his name like a holy mantra with each powerful stroke.

“That’s it, princesa,” he rasps against the flushed curve of your neck, lips brushing saltily over your overheated skin. “Take it all for me. Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.”

As punctuation, he slams home with a sharp roll of his hips that has you keening shrilly and throwing your head back. You clutch at him desperately, meeting each heavy thrust in perfect counterpoint as he picks up the pace. The air is thick with the obscene sounds of skin sliding relentlessly together and your punched-out whimpers and moans.

Carlos has never felt so deliriously consumed by physicality before. It’s like his whole world has narrowed down to this moment, this connection of your joined bodies moving as one. He wants to burn the memory of how you feel, how you sound, how you taste, into his mind forever.

“Look at me,” he growls against the sweat-slick curve of your jaw when your eyes start to drift shut in ecstasy. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart on my cock, princesa.”

You force your lids open with obvious effort, irises wild and hazy with lust. Carlos feels a molten surge of possessive desire lash through his veins at the sight. He slams into you with renewed fervor, savoring the high, desperate whine it punches from your parted lips.

“That’s it, cariño ... fuck, you’re exquisite like this.” His praise comes out in a ruined rasp but it seems to spur you on. Your nails dig bruising furrows into his lower back as you meet him thrust for bruising thrust.

Carlos can feel the telltale tightening and fluttering in your inner walls that signals your impending release like a vise grip around his cock. He wants nothing more than for you to shatter apart on his length. Slipping one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves and rolls it firmly between calloused fingertips.

You release a strangled scream, back bowing off the mattress as white-hot pleasure spikes through you. “Carlos! Oh my god, Carlos, I’m … I can’t ...”

“Come for me, princesa,” Carlos encourages hoarsely against the side of your neck. He continues to work you over with nimble fingers in time with the punishing snap of his hips. “Let me feel you come apart all over my cock. Fucking soak it ...”

The guttural river of carnal filth coming from his lips seems to be the final straw, sending you crashing violently over the edge. You seize up around him with a shrill, sobbing wail, inner muscles clamping down in hot, pulsing waves. Carlos curses roughly, eyes squeezing shut against the unbelievable sensation of being massaged and milked for every drop.

If he thought the vice grip of your orgasm was intense, the aftermath is even more sublime. You lie utterly limp and boneless beneath him, still aflutter and fluttering in sweet, rhythmic clenches around his cock. He grits his jaw and fights to keep control, knowing he won’t last much longer buried in your intoxicating heat like this.

When you finally regain some coherency, eyes fluttering open with a dazed murmur of his name, Carlos pulls back slowly until just the throbbing crown remains inside. He intends to give you a brief respite before chasing his own thunderous release, but the moment he starts to withdraw your legs lock high around his hips.

“No ...” You keen, nails raking pleadingly down his back. The desperate craving in your tone very nearly undoes him. “Carlos, please. Don’t stop ...”

Growling low in his chest, Carlos immediately buries himself home once more — this time with a single, powerful thrust that has your brows shooting up as the air rushes from your lungs in a strangled cry. Clearly, you still need it as much as he does.

He fists one hand in the tousled hair at the nape of your neck, using the grip to tilt your head to one side as he lays a searing path of nips and sucking kisses along the exposed column. You shudder and whimper beneath him, utterly pliant and receptive to his claiming touches.

“Tell me what you want, cariño,” he rasps between rough drags of teeth over your thundering pulse point. He remains buried to the hilt, muscles bunched and quivering with the effort of holding himself rigid and still inside you. “Use your words and tell me.”

For a long moment, you seem too dazed and overwhelmed to reply. Then, in a small, wrecked voice, “I want … I want you to fuck me, Carlos. Please ...” Your eyes are glazed yet earnest, boring into his from beneath sooty lashes. “Don’t hold back. I need to feel you come too.”

A harsh groan is punched from Carlos’ lungs at your plea. Letting himself go and really taking you the way his body screams at him to would be heaven and hell all at once.

There’s likely no coming back from it — he’ll ruin you for anyone else’s touch, just as he warned. Once all is said and done, you’ll be irrevocably his in a way that frightens and exhilarates him to his core.

For a heart-stopping moment, he hesitates. And then you moan again — a thin, keening sound of utter desperation — and it’s like the last thread of Carlos’ control snaps completely.

“Hold on tight then, cariño ... because I won’t be able to stop.”

That’s the only warning he gives before pulling almost fully out and slamming back home in one brutal thrust that drives the air from your lungs on a high, shocked cry. He doesn’t let up from there — turning you over onto your belly and dragging your hips up onto his thighs so he can take you from behind in a series of ruthless, punishing strokes.

You quickly become an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath his onslaught, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets as he pounds into you again and again like he’s trying to split you apart. Carlos relishes the sharp smack of sweat-slick flesh on flesh, the strained crescendo of your hoarse wails, the drug-like delirium of being utterly surrounded and consumed by your scorching velvet grip.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. He clutches you flush against him, one big hand spread over your lower stomach like he could somehow force his cock impossibly deeper. The other winds around to toy and tug almost cruelly at your taut, reddened nipples — drawing out a stream of broken, overwhelmed whimpers.

Carlos has never felt more powerful. Body and mind, he owns you utterly in this moment. The thought is nearly enough to send him skating right over the edge into oblivion.

Instead, he jerks you up onto your knees fully so he can plunge into your straining, overworked sex at a different angle — this one hitting something deep inside that has you screaming hoarsely. He captures the wild thrash of your head in the curve of one sweat-slick bicep to bare the elegant line of your throat to his hungry mouth.

“Could you possibly have taken any more of me, princesa?” Carlos husks against the side of your neck, relishing the way it makes you tremble and clench even harder around his pistoning length. “You were made just to be split open on my cock ...”

You let out a garbled sound halfway between agreement and overwhelmed protest. Carlos snarls against your racing pulse, sucking a blatant mark of possession just below your jaw where everyone will be able to see before abruptly rolling you both back over.

He looms above you once more, grinding steadily into your core with deep, purposeful strokes that leave you writhing and wailing with over-stimulation. But Carlos isn’t finished yet — isn’t anywhere close to getting his fill.

“Look at me, cariño,” he commands in a guttural rasp, waiting with molten, heavy-lidded eyes until your lust-drunk stare meets his. “I need to see that pretty face when I come inside you ...”

His words seem to energize you somewhat, your eyes snapping sharper with renewed awareness.

And then, incredibly, you cunt flutters and grips down around him again in the unmistakable clutch of another orgasm ripping through you like a livewire. Carlos has to use every ounce of stamina and control not to follow you right over that blinding edge as you thrash and shriek beautifully beneath him.

By the time you come back down, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, Carlos is practically vibrating with the force of his impending release. His movements have taken on a desperate edge, hips snapping in erratic, forceful jabs as he chases that final blissful oblivion.

When your sated, velvety heat squeezes rhythmically one final time, Carlos throws his head back with his own roar of release. White-hot rapture spikes through every nerve ending as his balls tighten in excruciating bliss. His world narrows down to the exquisite pulsing of your sheathed depths rippling and drawing every last drop from him in endless, blistering waves.

It seems to stretch on forever, Carlos unable and unwilling to move from his impaled position even once the final shudders have wrung him dry. He simply remains blanketed over you, lungs heaving and muscles quaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When he finally regains enough presence of mind to open his eyes and look down at you, the devotion burning in your spent, glowing expression makes his breath catch. For a long, fragile moment, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world.

Eventually, your eyes drift shut on a contented sigh and your body goes lax and pliant against the sheets once more. Carefully, Carlos eases out of your swollen, used entrance and rolls to collapse in a sweaty heap beside you. He immediately tugs you into his embrace, savoring the feeling of your damp, feverish skin pressed to his.

As you drift off to slumber coiled against his chest, Carlos presses a lingering, tender kiss to your crown and tightens his arms around you. He can feel the words pressing at his lips, straining to be released into the silence of this moment.

For now, he keeps them locked behind his teeth. But already he knows this isn’t simply lust or passion or a primal need for revenge that will fade with time. This was always meant to be more — something deeper …. everything Carlos never even realized he was missing until you stormed into his life in a whirlwind of smiles and secrets and blinding desire.

He’s in trouble now. Trouble of the very best kind.

***

Pale morning light filters in through the sheer curtains as Carlos blinks awake slowly. For a disoriented moment, he’s unsure of his surroundings — the rumpled white linens tangled around his naked body are certainly not what he’s used to waking up in.

Then the previous night’s events come rushing back in a heated wave. The pool … the frantic, desperate passion as he took you again and again until you were both hollowed out and sated … finally collapsing into a sweaty pile together. Carlos feels his chest tighten with a complicated swirl of emotions.

He turns his head on the pillow to find the source of the delicious warmth pressed along his side. And just like that, everything else falls away.

You’re tangled up with him still, one shapely leg hooked over his and an arm flung possessively across his torso. Loose riotous locks tickle Carlos’ skin where your face is half-buried in the curve of his neck.

He has to tamp down the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer, to wrap you in his arms and inhale the sweet, clean scent of your hair.

Like this — sleep-rumpled and soft in the morning’s buttery rays — you look almost unbearably lovely. An ache blossoms behind Carlos’ ribs as he studies the delicate fan of your lashes brushing flushed cheekbones and the gentle part of those full lips. Disheveled and without a stitch of make-up, you’re somehow even more breathtakingly beautiful.

Unconsciously, Carlos’ fingers find their way into your tangled tresses, lightly stroking and playing with the silken strands. You make a small, snuffling sound of contentment and burrow infinitesimally closer. He freezes, worried he’s disturbed your slumber, but your features remain smooth and serene.

He should get up. He should definitely get up and extract himself from this warm, addictive little bubble you’ve created before things go any further. This was only ever supposed to be a fling — a deliciously vindictive way to get back at your father for how he so callously cast Carlos aside.

Yet even as Carlos turns the thought over in his head, it rings hollow. What happened between you last night transcended anything so petty and cruel as revenge.

When he was sheathed so deeply inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync like they were made for each other, Carlos felt something far more profound than just physical gratification. It was spiritual … cosmic, even, like every star in the universe had finally clicked into perfect alignment.

He should be disgusted with himself for having such saccharine notions. Carlos has always considered himself a realist — someone grounded in facts and figures, not given to romantic flights of fancy whatsoever. Yet here he is, helplessly mooning over a woman he barely knows all because of one night of incredible sex.

Except … Carlos is self-aware enough to recognize there was more to it than that, even if he can’t put words to the feeling yet. Some invisible cord has been lashed between you in a knot that feels unbreakable. Some intangible shift has occurred in his perspective that he can’t seem to walk back from.

Perhaps you sensed it too in the way you gazed at him afterwards — not just satiated, but glowing with a sort of wondering, naked adoration far too profound for a mere fuck. Carlos knows he should have been unnerved by the depth of emotion in your spent, happy features. And yet, he only felt it mirrored and compounded tenfold within himself.

With a frustrated huff, he tugs you closer and burrows his face into your hair, allowing your warm, comforting scent to soothe his wildly spiraling thoughts. You make another soft sound and your fingers twitch where they’re splayed over his ribs — reflexively trying to pull him in even tighter.

“What are you doing to me, princesa?” Carlos murmurs, low and graveled, against the crown of your head. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go at all ...”

Because the truth is, this was never meant to be anything more than a fleeting dalliance — an explosive joining of bodies and nothing more. But now that he’s had you, had this bone-deep connection to you, Carlos doesn’t think he can let it go so easily. The prospect of never again feeling you wrapped so perfectly around him in every sense of the word is abruptly gut-wrenchingly awful.

Which leaves him at an impasse. Because you … you are the daughter of the very man who unceremoniously discarded Carlos like an old rag after he gave everything to Ferrari. The offspring of the person who threw him away in a way that cut all the way to his core.

How could he possibly pursue anything real with you after that? It would be a horrific conflict of interests and constantly make things unbearably awkward, to say the very least. Not to mention Carlos has no idea if you even want more than just this one night of passion between you anyway. Perhaps to you he really was just an itch to scratch, a bout of impulsive lust to take the edge off before moving on.

The thought makes his stomach churn with jealousy so potent he has to physically swallow it back. Which … is not great, all things considered.

Tilting your head back with the lightest touch beneath your chin, Carlos studies your soft features searchingly. Perhaps if he stares hard enough, he’ll find some hint of deception or shallowness there. Some glaring evidence that this insane sense of yearning he feels is all one-sided — a misguided obsession brought on by the sort of euphoric sex one can never quite recapture once the high fades. He could use that as his cue to bow out now while you’re still tangled up together so prettily.

But even as he looks, really looks, all Carlos sees is the serene picture of a thoroughly satisfied, openly contented woman. There’s no shuttered gaze or pinched expression betraying any darker thoughts and feelings. Just blissed-out joy written in every relaxed line of those lovely features.

Something in Carlos’ chest cracks wide open at the realization that this is real for you too. You’re not just some meaningless one-off fling, but a woman who seems to have had her entire world upended in the same way his has been over the span of one incredible night.

“Carlos?” You murmur then, voice husky and slurred with the remnants of sleep as your lashes flutter open. “What’s wrong, mon beau?”

Your endearment sends a shockwave of tenderness and want pulsing through him straight to the roots. Carlos shakes his head minutely, winding one hand into your hair to hold you steady so he can simply … bask in your presence for a while.

“Nothing’s wrong, princesa,” he assures you lowly, thumb stroking gently over the arch of your cheekbone. “I just woke up early and got a little lost in my head for a bit there, that’s all.”

That small, secret smile he’s rapidly becoming addicted to tugs at your lips as your eyes rove languidly over his face. Your hand comes up to rest over his thundering heartbeat with surprising tenderness.

“Well then allow me to bring you back to the present. Right here with me.”

Your tone has taken on that rich sultriness from last night that shoots straight to his groin. Before Carlos can so much as draw breath to respond, you’re rising up to seal your mouth over his in a searingly passionate kiss.

He groans instantly, every atom of his being tuned to your frequency in a way that’s swiftly becoming terrifyingly natural. Carlos’ hands roam hungrily over your naked curves of their own volition, relearning each dip and swell through the silken glide of skin on skin.

When you break apart at last, you’re both thoroughly breathless and aroused. Carlos splays one big hand over the small of your back and simply holds you flush against him, savoring the feeling of your racing heart thundering in tandem with his own. He brushes kiss-swollen lips along the line of your jaw, prompting a delicious shiver.

“Don’t think for one second that I’ve had even a fraction of my fill of you yet, cariño,” he rasps against the feverish skin just below your ear, using his free hand to tug your head back so he can access the soft column of your throat. “You’ve addicted me beyond any chance of recovery now.”

Your breath hitches as he latches his mouth just above your thundering pulse point and sucks a blatant mark. Carlos revels in the needy whimpers spilling from your lips with each pass of his tongue over the tender patch of skin. He needs to mark you, claim you, render you unmistakable as his in every possible way.

“Carlos ...” You keen, back arching like a drawn bow as he continues trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck and over your collarbones. “What are you saying?”

He pulls back to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, searching intently for permission to continue with what he suspects you’re asking. And there it is — desire and hope and invitation burning brightly in your soulful eyes, practically begging him to put words to this singular thing blazing between you.

Cupping your face in both hands, Carlos holds your rapt stare as he slowly, reverently presses a soft, lingering kiss to your slightly parted lips. You melt into him, one hand coming up to clutch desperately at his bicep.

“I’m saying,” he murmurs against the plush give of your pretty mouth. “That I can’t simply let this be the end, princesa. Not anymore. Not after experiencing what it feels like to be so exquisitely connected with someone in every possible way.”

The smile you give him in answer is as incandescent and warm as a living flame. You don’t attempt to contain the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you simply wind your arms around Carlos’ neck and pull him down into a molten kiss that somehow manages to convey every single infinite feeling ricocheting between your bodies.

He suddenly feels so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. Lucky to have crossed paths with you by happenstance. Lucky that, by some miracle, he didn’t allow bitterness or pain or preconceived notions to blind him to your kindness and warmth and inherent goodness despite how this whole crazy thing started in his mind.

Because yes, you are the daughter of the man who turned his life and career upside down. But here, pressed against you, Carlos can feel the truth resonating through his bones — you are so much more than any of that.

And for the first time in his life, Carlos cannot fathom the idea of anything frightening him away.

***

The frantic Melbourne nightlife whirls and pulsates around Carlos in a dizzying kaleidoscope of neon lights and pounding basslines. Normally he would revel in the thrum of energy and excess — drinking in the atmosphere and feeding off the infectious exhilaration. But tonight, seated alone in the VIP lounge of one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, he finds his attention utterly undivided.

You stand out like a siren among the raucous crowd, every tilt of your hips and toss of your hair captivating Carlos completely.

He tracks the line of your body shamelessly as you sway and twist to the driving beat, that tantalizing little red dress riding up to reveal glimpses of toned, silky thighs that make his mouth water. A fine sheen of sweat glistens enticingly along your collarbones and in the hollow of your throat, no doubt making your overheated skin taste like salted caramel.

The urge to slide up behind you and drag his tongue along that slender, tempting slope is damn near overwhelming. He can vividly picture himself molding his larger frame against your softly undulating form, one hand spanning possessively across your lower belly to grind the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal against the lush swell of your rear.

He imagines precisely how you would react — arching back against him with a shuddering gasp, fingers threading into his hair to tug his mouth down upon yours in a frantic, needy kiss. How you would whimper and writhe against him, uncaring of the very public surroundings as desire rapidly whited everything else out ...

Almost as if sensing the scorching path of Carlos’ thoughts, you glance over your shoulder and catch his eye from beneath the veil of your lashes. That sly, inviting little smile immediately kicks his pulse into overdrive and lights a slow bloom of liquid heat unfurling in his lower belly.

With a crooked finger and a subtle uptilt of your chin you summon him to your side. And like the hopeless fool he is, Carlos rises instantly and crosses the small distance to enfold you in his arms from behind.

“Having fun out here without me, cariño?” He murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell so he feels the full-body shiver that wracks through you.

You lean back into his embrace, all soft curves and intoxicating jasmine scent. “I’m always having fun when I’m with you, Mr. Race Winner,” you sigh as your fingers trail delicately down the solid line of his biceps. “Even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing.”

The words are simple — honest and unguarded in a way that makes Carlos’ heart seize in his chest. For two people who came together in a wild collision of lust and passion, it’s moments like these that continually remind him of how much deeper your connection truly runs. Far beyond mere physicality into some soul-binding and unbreakable place.

You must sense the shift in his energy because you turn in his arms, expression questioning but so openly caring it nearly steals Carlos’ breath away. Tenderly, you cup his jaw and search his eyes.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, hmm?”

He shakes his head minutely, leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling you snug against his chest. You settle easily into the circle of his arms like that’s the most natural place in the world, cheek pillowed over his steadily thrumming heart.

“Nothing to worry about, princesa,” Carlos assures you gruffly, stroking soothing circles over the warm bare skin of your back. “Just feeling … lucky, I suppose. To have found someone like you.”

The words seem to catch you off guard and you pull back slightly to study his face, mouth curved in that secretive little smile that always makes Carlos’ stomach swoop.

“Well, I certainly feel the luckiest woman on Earth,” you tease lightly, booping his nose in a playful gesture that somehow serves to implant roots deep in Carlos’ soul rather than make him roll his eyes.

Instead, he just gazes at you for a long, weighted moment, allowing himself to simply bask in your presence. In the soft beauties that first drew him in — that delicate blush that finds its way across your nose and cheekbones, the little crinkles that bloom when your smile widens to that mega-watt, face-splitting beam, and those soulful eyes that never fail to pin Carlos helplessly in place.

Then there are the quieter, more intimate details he’s gradually uncovered the deeper he delves into your connection. The barely-there laugh lines at the corners of your eyes when you’re feeling particularly pleased about something. The trick of tugging on your lower lip with your teeth when you’re aroused and trying not to show it. The subtle furrow that appears between your brows when you’re concentrating intently on something.

Carlos knows them all now like geography he was born to navigate.

Without conscious thought, he smooths his thumbs over your jaw and guides you up into a slow, thorough kiss that has both your pulses kicking into overdrive. You whine quietly into his mouth, winding your arms around his neck and arching against him in ways that instantaneously have him hard and aching. But Carlos doesn’t give in to the heated urgency coursing through his bloodstream.

Instead, he keeps the languid glide of his lips over yours unhurried and leisurely — savoring the sensation of you pliant and receptive beneath his seduction. You seem to shake off your initial fervor as well, melting further into the molten drag of his mouth claiming yours over and over.

This too is a geography Carlos has long since mastered. The precise angle he needs to tilt his head to slot your bodies effortlessly flush together. The soft, mewling noises he can coax out of you with carefully applied suction to your plush lower lip. The tiny shudders when he swipes his tongue in long, slick caresses over the roof of your mouth.

You’re practically vibrating with restraint by the time he finally releases your mouth with an obscene, wet pop. Your lips are swollen and glistening, glistening with shared wanting. Carlos hums deep in his chest and brushes the pad of his thumb over the slick fullness reverently.

“So impatient, cariño,” he chides with a wolfish grin that has your nipples visibly peaking beneath the thin lace bodice. “You know that’s not what I had in mind for tonight.”

With an adorable little pout, you wind your arms around his neck once more. “And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”

A dozen filthy scenarios immediately clamor for attention in Carlos’ head. Having you right here, up against the wall of this secluded VIP area. Bending you over the sleek lines of one of the low leather couches. Finding a shadowed alcove and sinking to his knees before you, nosing aside those delicate strips of lace to ...

He banishes each carnal thought before it can take root and produce visible effect. Tangling his fingers through the soft tresses at the nape of your neck, Carlos brings your foreheads together with a soft smile.

“I thought we might enjoy a moonlight stroll along the beach actually,” he murmurs, relishing the way your disappointed huff ruffles against his skin. “Just you and me under the stars, far away from the noise and crowds for a while.”

You regard him dubiously for a moment before seeming to melt at whatever expression Carlos doesn’t realize he’s allowed to show through. As always, you give in far too easily to his indulgent whims.

With a soft, fond roll of your eyes, you press up on your toes to drop a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Of course, mon amour. Just you and me under the stars.”

Twenty minutes later finds you ambling hand in hand down a pristine stretch of beach in the Middle Park suburb. The warm, salty breeze gusts gently over your skin, carrying traces of coconut sunscreen and the briny musk of the sea. Foamy waves lap invitingly against the silvered sands as Carlos steers you towards a small, isolated cove.

He procures a large woven blanket from his bag and unfurls it in a clear spot before tugging you down into the plush nest of fabric. You immediately gravitate into his space — curling against his side and tucking yourself beneath his arm like that’s where you were always meant to fit. For Carlos’ part, he cherishes the easy affection and careless intimacy of the simple gesture more than you’ll ever know.

You spend what could be minutes or hours like that — exchanging lazy kisses and sipping from a shared bottle of wine as the moon rises ever higher overhead. After a while, Carlos sprawls onto his back and you quickly drape yourself half-atop him so he can leisurely card his fingers through your windswept tresses.

The soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear combined with the soothing sounds of the lapping tide soon have your eyelids drooping. Carlos has never felt so at peace — this sublime bubble with you the single point around which the rest of the universe spins, perfectly in balance.

“Hey,” you mumble against the warm, sleep-rumpled fabric of his shirt. “Aren’t you the one always saying we should be living in the present?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, stroking one hand down the dip of your spine to rest possessively at the base. “What brings that up all of a sudden?”

You shift enough to look up at him through your lashes, eyes molten with a familiar heat that shivers down Carlos’ spine.

“I’m just wondering what’s got you stuck in your head so often these days,” you counter smoothly, punctuating the observation by swinging one leg over his hips so you can settle atop him fully, careful not to disturb his still-tender stitches. “We’ve barely been able to share … intimate moments at all the last month or so.”

Carlos sucks in a sharp breath as your weight settles over the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal. His hands find your hips of their own volition, squeezing reflexively as you begin moving atop him in a slow, undulating rhythm.

“Perhaps I’ve been overtly romantic,” he allows through gritted teeth, letting his head thunk back against the blanket as desire rapidly thrums through his veins. “Missing out on more … physical expressions of passion just because I wanted to remind both of us that this is built on so much more than lust.”

You hum thoughtfully, sitting up fully and swaying atop him in a way that has Carlos rapidly losing his tenuous grasp on reality beyond this blissful patch of the world containing just the two of you. He’s fully hard and straining against the loose linen of his slacks within moments.

“Then maybe we should do something about that right now,” you breathe huskily, arching your back in an inhumanly graceful roll that leaves Carlos’ mouth dry as the Sahara. His hands track helplessly up the delicious curves of your waist, bunching the delicate material of your dress around your hips.

He sits up to meet you so suddenly your foreheads nearly crack together. You release a breathless giggle that Carlos hungrily swallows with his lips, trapping you in a searing kiss filled with all the smoldering hunger he’s been studiously keeping banked for weeks now.

Mindlessly, he chases the taste of you over and over — salty and sweet and everything he’s been desperately starving himself for. His fingers fumble at the tie closures along your ribs until the bodice finally falls away, baring your breasts to his gaze and seeking hands.

You gasp softly into the heated seal of his mouth when Carlos’ calloused palms close over your soft, pliant flesh. He cups and kneads with reverent, possessive strokes that have you quickly arching your chest further into his touch and throwing your head back on a wanton moan.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer, riding his lap with increasing urgency and bringing your mouths back together in a clash of teeth and tongues. Your fingers slide up beneath the hem of his shirt to map the shifting planes of his abdomen, nails raking over the taut, quivering muscles. “Don’t hold back with me any longer. Not tonight … need to feel all of you.”

A shudder wracks Carlos’ entire frame at your breathy plea. He knows you’re right, can feel that same desperate yearning driving you magnified inside himself. Every cell of his body is vibrating with the need to take you fully — heart, mind, and body aligning in euphoric harmony after so many weeks of well meaning denial.

Seizing your hips in a bruising grip, Carlos surges to his feet and simply holds you against him with easy strength. Your legs immediately wind around his waist as you giggle deliriously against his lips.

“Is this what you want, princesa?” He murmurs lowly, swaying subtly to grind his straining need over the lush juncture of your thighs in counterpoint. “For me to finally have my way with you the way we’ve both been craving?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, back arching as Carlos nips and sucks a path down the slender column of your neck. “God, yes, Carlos. Will you just fuck me already? Here on the sand and beneath the open sky like something out of one of those romance novels you pretend not to love.”

The easy teasing breaks through whatever lingering threads of Carlos’ control were still intact and he growls low in his chest. In one deft motion, he divests you both of the rest of your clothes and spreads you out on the blanket before him in all your unabashed glory. His gaze tracks over your form hungrily, drinking in every dip and swell as you watch him with dark, wanting eyes.

“Princesa ...” Carlos breathes, gratified to see his own desire and reverent longing reflected back at him tenfold in your heated stare. “No more waiting, no more teasing.”

His meaning is clear even without the punctuation of sinking down to settle fully over your smaller form, blanketing you with his weight and forcing your thighs apart to cradle his hips. You immediately writhe beneath him, winding limber arms and legs around him in a vice grip that sears every point of contact between you.

“Carlos, mon cœur ...” You keen breathily into the scant space separating your lips, every word punched from you in counterpoint to the sensual roll of his hips grinding his arousal through your slick folds. “Please. I need you. Need to feel you all around me again after so long.”

He crushes his mouth to yours in answer, tongue instantly delving deep to taste the exquisite velvet heat of you. You clutch him closer even as Carlos shifts his weight to one forearm so his other hand can roam freely over every inch of bare, pebbled skin he can reach. When his calloused palm finally finds your breast and gives a rough squeeze, you shudder and cry out into his waiting lips.

There’s no more waiting after that. Carlos sheaths himself in one powerful, purposeful thrust that buries him to the hilt and your gasp dissolves into a broken moan. He stills for the briefest of moments, just reveling in the unbearably tight clutch of your molten sheath, every nerve ending alight and thrumming. Then he slowly withdraws until just the swollen head remains inside before immediately surging forward once more.

Your nails score lines of liquid fire down his back at the first deep, dragging stroke. But Carlos barely notices the delicious sting. He’s utterly consumed by the feeling of finally being surrounded by you again — hot, snug, and so utterly perfect. Every sound and shudder and arch of your form against his own is like the sweetest plea washing over him.

He sets a demanding pace, relentlessly pounding into you from that first jarring thrust onward. The only sounds are your mingled cries and the wet, obscene smack of flesh on flesh echoing out over the lapping ocean waves. Carlos wants to make sure there’s no doubt in your mind how much he’s craved every inch of you.

“There’s my good girl,” he rasps hotly against the bullet-hard peak of your nipple before laving it soothingly with his tongue. You release a strangled cry, back bowing sharply off the blanket as you clench down on him in rippling, vice-like pulses. “Fuck … taking me just how you were made to. So damn perfect, cariño.”

Your garbled whimpers and keens of his name drive Carlos to new levels of feverish intensity with each hitching breath. He snakes an arm beneath your sweat-slick lower back to position your hips at a slightly higher angle, seating himself even more deeply inside.

Every purposeful thrust now grinds against that tender cluster of nerves in a way that quickly has your eyes rolling back. You go boneless and whimpering, allowing Carlos to manhandle and use your plaint and plush form in whatever way he craves.

Pressure rapidly mounts within Carlos like an incoming tidal wave as your inner walls begin fluttering around him in telltale pulses. He can feel his own imminent release building in tandem at the base of his spine, that familiar molten curl of pleasure threatening to crest.

“That’s it, princesa,” he grits out raggedly against the sweat-slick arch of your throat. He slides the hand not anchoring your hips down to toy with the engorged pearl at your apex — drawing out a stream of sobbing wails. “Take what’s yours. Fucking milk me with that greedy little cunt. You were made for this cock, made to be split open and ruined on it over and over until you’ve got no idea where you end and I begin.”

The filthy words seems to be your undoing. With a sobbing cry of Carlos’ name, you seize up — inner walls rippling and convulsing like they’re taking him for everything he’s worth. Carlos hardens his jaw and summons the last threads of his control to keep himself from shattering apart at the very first fluttering pulse.

As the shattering waves of your release gradually crest and ebb, Carlos chases them down with powerful thrusts designed to prolong and intensify every aftershock. You writhe and whimper beneath him in overstimulated pleasure, rapidly going boneless and sated.

That’s when he finally surrenders to the smoldering inferno in his belly, hips snapping forward in a few final, erratic strokes before Carlos throws back his head and allows his own orgasm to rip through him. White-hot euphoria explodes across every nerve ending as he empties himself in heavy, throbbing pulses deep inside your spasming core.

“Ah fuck … just like that, cariño,” he rasps out hoarsely, grinding himself as deeply inside you as physically possible and simply shuddering through each exquisite contraction. “Taking every last fucking drop of me right where you were made for it ...”

Utterly spent, Carlos collapses forward with the last dregs of his stamina — just barely managing to catch himself on shaking forearms so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. You immediately latch onto him, peppering his flushed face with sweet kisses.

For several long moments, you simply hold each other through the aftershocks, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Carlos has never felt more peaceful or completely at ease in his entire life. His every sense is utterly surrounded and suffused by you in the most blissful of ways.

When his lashes finally flutter open, the first thing he sees is your adoring smile glowing up at him in the moonlight. It nearly steals what little breath remains in his lungs.

“Hi,” you murmur shyly. Carlos huffs out a breathless chuckle and tugs you even closer until your overwarm bodies are aligned from navel to sternum.

“Hi yourself, princesa,” he replies, just as softly against your lips before sinking into another deep, leisurely kiss that tastes equal parts salt and sex and forever.

When you part again, your eyes are sparkling with so much uncomplicated happiness that Carlos nearly melts into a useless puddle on the spot. He’s drowning and he’s never felt more gloriously unmoored.

“I love you, y’know? Like … down to the depths of my soul,” your fingers trail over the sharp jaw and cheekbones you now know better than your own.

The words should terrify Carlos with their intensity and implication. Instead, they simply roll through him in a cresting wave of overwhelming tenderness and clarity.

Of course he loves you. How could he not, when his existence now seems to revolve around your presence as the only fixed point in a dizzying orbit?

So rather than balk or deflect or shove those emotions back down, Carlos allows every infinite but of love and adoration and soul-deep need to shine through unfettered. He cradles your face between his palms and simply stares, committing every minuscule detail of this moment to memory before leaning down to brush his lips over yours in the sweetest, most loaded caress.

“I love you too, princesa,” he murmurs the words directly into your mouth like a sacrament. “With every fiber of my being. You are my everything.”

You tug him down into a heated, clinging embrace, holding him like you never intend to let go.

And at last, Carlos knows without a shadow of doubt that he never will either

[cordeliawhohung]

Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.

The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.

So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️

(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)

thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3

The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.

You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.

As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.

Put him back with the other model.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.

"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."

You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.

"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.

"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.

Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.

"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."

He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.

Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.

The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.

His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.

"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.

"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.

A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.

It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.

Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.

There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.

"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."

"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.

"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."

[bu-blegh-ost]

Something just occured to me. Circling through each beautiful moment in the campaign, I noticed a pattern. Gillion never initiates hugs. Every time, no matter if he is the one consoling or the one being consoled, he never is the first person to offer an embrace. And I think it says something.

When Jay wants to hug Gill, she always asks first. She opens her arms as an invitation and always gives him a clear sign that she wants to be close to him. And any time she offers, anytime Gillion gets permission, any time he feels like he is allowed one, he clings to her desperately and fully, starved for it, finding himself unable to let go too quickly, savoring it like he isn't sure when he is going to be allowed to have another.

Chip's hugs are unprompted and usually done with just as much desperation. They are completely controlled by emotion, and are a form of a language that Chip uses when love and appreciation cannot be expressed by words anymore. Chip never asks for hugs, he takes them. He needs them, so he is scared to ask like Jay does, cause asking means risking to be denied. It is safer to steal it. In contrast Jay is still asking cause she is still afraid of taking love for granted.

But they both, in the end, ask for hugs and comfort in their own ways. Gillion doesn't. He wants it, he needs it so often, but he never dares to ask for it. Cause he still treats love as a reward that he needs to earn, that he is not allowed to ask for, that can't be had, unless he does something that makes him worthy of being loved. Affection and love is a currency and Gill was taught that he needs to fight for it. That it's something he should never dare to request on his own.

How many times on their journey did he need to feel someone else's body close to his, but his lips were sealed, suffering in silence, thinking he Has not done well enough to be given the privalage of being comforted? How many aches and worries did he swallow down and burried deep inside? How many old wounds is he trying to fill with every single hug he receives, when someone else offers it to him? When he dares to take it, when he grips their clothes in an iron grip, trying to make the best out of it before it's gone? Cause who knows when someone allows him to have that again?

The only person Gill ever hugged first was Edyn, the first time in Allport. It was done with the same ferocity of a hurt child, of a little boy who Has been going through hell and his sister is his only remedy. The only person that always lets him have love for free. The only one he knows he can hug for sure. One who for so many years has been the only source of comfort.

The rest of the world is uncertain and even with Chip and Jay, Gill still strives to fulfill the unsaid cryteria of when he is worthy of their affection.

But I know that with enough reassurance and care, he will be able to ask for love himself and start treating his crew as people he can fall back on. And just so you know, the moment in which Gillion is the first one to hug Chip or Jay is going to make me cry like a little baby.

_______

Edit: more thoughts occured

Did you notice that Jay always seems to match Gill and Chip when it comes to hugging? She never asks Chip for hugs and takes them the same way Chip does, no matter if she is the one seeking or offering comfort. And the same goes with Gill. Regardless of whether she is the one in the need of comfort or she is the one comforting, she always verbally communicates a desire to hug first. Like she kinda feels that this is what Gillion needs from her to accept it.

So maybe Jay is actually always trying to search for the most effective way to get a hug, to increase her chances. She believes she has to, cause she cannot take love for granted anymore, not after Ava's death. She took her for granted and now she is gone. So now Jay struggles to freely express her own desires and instead clings to all the ways that she thinks guarantee her the affection she needs, an act of desperation in its own right. A silent plea for acceptance.

Each Captain on this ship treats each embrace as a treasure to savor and protect. It's a result of their past and their fears, but also a proof of unyielding love they have for each other. It's beautiful and one day the same love that they still dread to take, will heal them.

[earthtooz]

bakugo fluff to heal the soul!

bakugo katsuki was fuming in his seat.

it’s not necessarily strange for him to be doing so, but normally it was due to the antics of kirishima and kaminari that gets him all riled up. this time though? it was you.

it all started the moment you stepped foot into the classroom because as soon as mina noticed you, she was already shouting her heart out at this hour of the morning (not that the time mattered much to bakugo because he wanted her to shut up at all times of the day).

but it was what she said that ticked him off even more.

“y/n! you’ve got an admirer!”

bakugo katsuki had to watch in slow-fucking-motion how your face lit up in a (beautiful) smile that almost had his anger raging as wildly as his explosions because it wasn’t him that was making you smile like that.

it wasn’t his love letter that had you giggling and flustered, it wasn’t his bouquet of flowers that you were fawning over and it wasn’t his box of sweets that you were admiring. only he had the right to make you feel like that. 

bakugo is brought out of his misery with the familiar voice of a certain red-haired. “oi! thought you’d never confess to y/n, finally grew a pair?” kirishima asked, bending down to match the blond’s seated position. 

bakugo scowls harder as he gruffly murmured, “that wasn’t me.”

“oh man! really?” kirishima looked back at your desk, noticing the gentle way that you were handling the gifts, setting them down on the floor beside you. “i guess y/n is popular, better shoot your shot before it’s too late.”

small explosions spark from bakugo’s palms as he screams, “i know, dumbass!” 

for the rest of school he had to witness the dazed, delicate expression you wore, paired with a gentle smile that never seemed to fade from your lips the whole day. he even found you fiddling with the card you received, reading it over for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. 

bakugo could write a better one. 

and if that wasn’t enough, he had to watch the way you held the gifts closely in your arms, cradled protectively to your chest as you tried to preserve their sacredness, hearing about how you were going to ‘put the flowers on my windowsill. they’ll be so pretty!’. 

he was going to blast those stupid floras into pieces, not understanding why you were feeling so special over some stupid extra’s ‘chivalrous’ actions because you deserved far better.

and you better fucking believe that he could make you smile wider than anyone else 

that’s what he did, knocking on your door ferociously the next day, bakugo katsuki was holding an even bigger bouquet of arranged flowers, far more grand than the small one you received yesterday, as well as some of your favourite pastries from the local bakery that you always took him to. and as a card? well, it was him. did you need any more? 

was his heart racing because of nerves or because of spite? he didn’t know.

“coming!” your voice comes from the other side of the door and sure enough, the telltale sign of a door unlocking reaches bakugo’s ears. you greet him with a smile, “oh, hey! bakugo- whoa, that is a big bouquet of flowers.”

“‘s for you,” he grumbles, unable to look away from your expression, gauging for a reaction. you’re silent for a moment before pointing at yourself. 

a weak ‘me?’ slips past your mouth.

“who else, dumbass? you’re the only one worthy of fuckin’ flowers.”

he dumps them in your arms and you gape at him. “wait- was it you that gave me-”

“nope, but you best believe i outdid them.”

you laugh, a sound that bakugo has grown to cherish over the time you’ve spent together. with a softer, adoring look in your eyes, bakugo thinks he’s reached the peak of life as you meet his gaze. “thank you, bakugo,” you say quietly but there’s something in your voice that tells him that you’re trying to keep your giddiness on the low. he can tell in the way that you marvel at the flowers with a wondrous expression, holding them to your heart.

he scoffs, not in a dismissive way, but in a manner of content.

“oi, i’m takin’ you out tomorrow night, on a date.” bakugo tells you and your chest flutters in the way that it always does when you’re around him. “you’re always pretty so i don’t need to tell you this, but dress nice.”

you beam at him and his heart stutters, “‘kay, only for you though.”

“don’t say shit like that!” the blush on bakugo’s face tells you enough as he stomps away.

he’s happy when you send him a picture of his flowers that sit pretty on your windowsill.

[fandoms--fluff]

Hey do you think, you could do one of the Mikaelson have a little sister like 2 years old and always what to stay with Nik and Elijah….. also she is so jealous that Camil and she do something to her and Nik tells that she is a mini me

Loathing

Flufftober, October 6th

Mikaelson little sister reader x Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson

Warnings: mention of blood

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're sitting in Elijah's lap, playing with two Chelsea dolls you got some years ago, while he's on the phone with someone. It's quiet except for the sound of your big brother's voice every now and then.

It's all peaceful until Kol comes crashing into the room and sits on the ground in front of you. You tilt your head and hand him one of the dolls. "Play!" You tell him.

Kol nods and plays with you, making a horrible high-pitched voice for the doll which makes you laugh, but Elijah cringes and hopes he stops soon.

It's been ten minutes, "What the bloody hell is that horrible sound?" Klaus walks in, he clearly just got back from wherever he was. Most likely Cami, but he never discloses that information, knowing you've openly shown your dislike for her.

"Our brother's wonderful voice for a doll" Elijah sighs, putting his phone down.

"Hey! My voice is amazing!" Kol exclaims, hearing the insult and sarcasticness in Elijah's answer. "Yeah!" You cross your arms like Kol is.

"See! Y/n knows what she's talking about" Kol says as Klaus picks you up out of Elijah's lap and places you on his hip. You wrap your tiny arms around his neck and relax your head against his shoulder.

"Y/n is also two, I think you need a better defense" Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Technically she's over a thousand like all of us... I'll shut up" Kol says, seeing the looks he's getting from the big brothers.

Kol, having both dolls in his hand, places them down on the coffee table before leaving the room. He plans to go into town and create some havoc that all of his siblings (besides from you) will have a fuss about, but it'll be fun.

Later in the week, there's a party being thrown in the abboiter. It's all vampires and humans for them to feed on. Some to kill and some to compel away.

"Well, this seems to be quite the turn out" Rebekah walks over to you and Klaus, who's carrying you tightly in his arms. "Indeed it is, sister" Klaus smirks.

"Look at you all dressed up" Rebekah coos, running a hand through your hair. "I did all by my'elf" you say excitedly. You're wearing a long sleeve dark purple dress that flows out under the bodice, and matching purple glittery jelly shoes that are put on the wrong feet. But Rebekah didn't want to tell you that and make you feel bad or make you upset at yourself. You also have a couple bead bracelets on your wrists and a heart necklace that Elijah gave you that you never take off. Your daylight ring is on your right pointer finger as well.

"Well good job, beautiful girl" Rebekah kisses your forehead before noticing Cami making her way over, and leaves to go back into the crowd.

"Hey Klaus," Cami smiles. "Camille, You look beautiful" Klaus kisses her. "Mmm, thank you" she says.

You make a disgusted facial expression before facing back the other way and laying your head back on your big brother's chest. You wonder how thus girl seems to be everywhere and why she always comes up to you and your big brother. Why don't they just make her go away like other woman they have before. You don't know what happens to them, but you assume it's fine.

Your siblings make sure you're kept out of all the killing and death during your existence.

As they keep talking, you try to ignore them to the best of your abilities. How much longer, you keep thinking. You try looking for Elijah, so your other big brothers can take you away from them, but no luck. You can't seem to find him anywhere from where you're placed on Klaus' hip.

As soon as you hear her chuckle at something Klaus said, your 2 year old self gets fed up. So, you take off one of your bracelets and throw it as hard as you can at Cami's face.

Now you may be biologically two, but you're still an original vampire, and with that comes a lot of strength. The bracelet made a great slash in her pale cheek, now blood running down her face.

Klaus quickly vamps into his room with Cami and you still in his hold. He sets you down on his bed as he bites into his wrist and offers it to Cami.

As she drinks blood from his wrist, Elijah comes into the room, noticing Klaus vamping out of the courtyard with the both of you.

"What happened?" Elijah asks. You stay quiet, as you sit crisscross apple sauce on the bed, happy that Elijah's here, and even though Cami is now healed, you did something for her to stop talking. You really don't like her.

"Um, I'm fine, though I think it's time for me to go" She sighs, glancing at you before walking out of the room to go back to her apartment.

"What happened was someone decided to get a bit violent" Klaus informs him, facing you. Elijah follows his gaze, landing on your face. You have a slight smile on your face. Yay! you made Cami leave.

"Why did you hurt Camille, y/n?" Elijah walks over and crouches in front of you so you're face to face.

"Bad Cami! Don' li'e her" answer front forwardly. Elijah raises his eyebrows. It's known you're not a fan of the woman, but you've never actually said it out loud up until now.

Klaus chuckles. Elijah turns his line of sight to him, "What do you have to snicker about?"

"Oh, just the thought of y/n is slowly turning into a mini version of me" Klaus smiles and holds a thumbs up at you. You have a big grin on your face. "Niklaus, do not encourage this behavior" Elijah sighs. It's going to be a long life if this is going to keep happening regularly.

A new rule is set in place to make sure that you're never in the same room with Cami with less than one of your siblings. And that one day they can hopefully get you to like Cami and not loathe her.

[w2sology]

omg hi I saw your requests were open and I loved loved loved ‘all of the ways’ could you please write something about readers reaction to Harry’s goal at the charity match? Thank you!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

this was from last year omg... how did i not see it 😃 and also as a west ham fan this was absolutely beautiful to write 🤭

the real deal, harry lewis.

summary: you attend the 2023 sidemen charity game and just to your luck, harry scores his first goal.

warnings: not proof read!

walking up the steps that led to the top of the lower blocks in the london stadium, you smiled, unable to contain your excitement for the game that was to follow.

the sidemen were having another of their charity football games, and as you always were, you came along to support harry.

arm in arm with freya, the two of you, along with faith and a few others of the sidemen family, walked towards your seats, your eyes flickering around as you took in the large amount of people who came.

it was a hot day, and despite feeling the material sticking a little to your body, you didn't regret wearing the black 'wroetoshaw 77' shirt, proud to show off your boyfriend.

leading up to today's event, harry had been moaning and groaning about not yet scoring a goal since the first charity match, but he was just happy to be out there with the boys.

"well, when you score your first," you'd told him, hand cupping his cheeks as you pulled his face towards you. "i'll be right there with you to celebrate."

that was more than enough motivation to give harry his end goal of the day ─── score a goal just for you.

collecting olive from ethan as they walked out onto the pitch, faith sat back down with the babbling bundle of joy, nervously tapping your thighs. "gosh, i can't wait for it to start already!" she squealed.

and you shared her excitement equally, a bright smile on your face as you watched harry looking around the block for you, blowing a kiss and waving your way when he spotted you.

you gladly returned the gesture, fanning yourself with the matchday program and shielding yourself from the burning sun.

as the match went on, you grew more and more interested. of course, it was for charity as well as for shits and giggles, but being with harry for such a long time, you become immersed in the sport that he loved so dearly.

with the first half over, freya had gotten you a drink with some extra ice cubes, and as you say with it, harry and the rest of the boys walked into the tunnel for their half time break, your lover giving you a wink as he walked past.

it didn't matter if he was sweaty or not; the sight of harry alone was enough to make you want to jump his bones.

holding onto that thought, you managed to make it to the second half without asking any questions like you usually would when watching football with harry.

"well, i don't get why they can't just run towards the other goal and kick it in then, if they're allowed to use their hands." you'd say.

"because... because that's just not how it works!"

and now there you were, stood on your feet as you watched vik pass the ball back towards harry instead of taking the shot himself, and your boyfriend didn't miss a beat; he kicked the ball beautifully into the back of the net.

you screamed so loud you couldn't even hear it, turning next to you to grasp freya's arms as faith turned her camera towards you to capture your reaction.

"oh my god!" you yelled, hands over your cheeks as you watched harry and the boys huddle together to celebrate his first goal for the sidemen.

breaking apart, harry turned to where you sat and held up a makeshift heart with his hands for you, albeit it looking like a circle at the first few seconds.

there was so much pride and love in your what for him, that when the game ended and he had his winner's medal and all on him, you couldn't help but smother his face in kisses, outwardly expressing your happiness for him.

"i told you you could do it," you whispered against his lips, his hair tickling your forehead.

"yeah, you did, didn't you?"

pressing his lips to yours briefly, harry pulled back to smile at you, his girl, and his number one supporter.

"looks like the wag life is about to become reality," he joked.

"oh yeah," you laughed. "the real deal."

[weemssapphic]

hii, could i request a fic with reader and handsy drunk larissa?? they have a crush on each-other but they won’t admit it until one night where larissa calls reader in her office for a glass of wine and became too drunk, this leads them to a make-out session and sex with some after care. if you want can you add some comfort for larissa who has old wounds from old lovers that comes up at the end?

hey feel free to change what you want, it’s completely fine if you don’t want to do it or you are not comfortable with it!! i hope you have a wonderful day!! <3 (sorry for my english!!) i’m sorry i don’t know how to do a request 😭

:)

hi bestie!!! this fic has been a LONG time coming and i'm absolutely just as feral about it as i was the first time we talked about it. hope you enjoy, love 🥺

taking a chance

Larissa Weems x shapeshifter!reader

words: ~8.5k

content/warnings: smut (minors dni pls), g!p (reader is a shapeshifter), virgin!larissa, drunk sex, nipple play, cunnilingus

Platinum curls catch the sunlight that follows the curve of a high cheekbone and a defined jawline. The same golden rays glint in deep, sapphire eyes, making them shine clearer and brighter. Ruby red lips curl into a smile around brilliantly white teeth, parting as the principal addresses the crowd of students and teachers with passion and enthusiasm.

You can see her warm breath slightly against the chilly fall air, her cheeks and the tip of her nose turning ever so slightly rosy with the cold - it makes her even more beautiful, if that’s at all possible, and you’re certain that you’re gaping at her with a dreamy expression on your face but you’re helpless to stop yourself.

Sometimes, being in her presence causes you to hang onto her every word, memorizing every syllable and the way it tumbles from her painted lips. At other times, you’re lucky to even catch a gist of what she’s saying, far too busy admiring her beauty and daydreaming about a life where you might just have a chance with this stunning goddess. Today seems like the latter kind of day.

Principal Weems - Larissa - pauses her speech and scans the crowd. As her gaze lands on you, she offers you a closed-lip smile - almost shy in its nature. You accept the offering, you’d be stupid not to, beaming back with a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. She winks in your direction before turning her attention elsewhere and resuming her speech as if nothing had happened. How she can move on from that moment so easily, you can hardly fathom - you’re rooted to the spot, your heart beating against the constraints of your rib cage, your mind replaying the wink over and over again. 

After the speech is over and the students and faculty have begun to disperse, chatting amongst themselves in small groups or hurrying to get out of the quad and back into the warmth of Nevermore’s rooms, you expect Larissa to head back to her office. What you don’t expect is to feel a gloved hand on your shoulder, long fingers giving you a surprisingly gentle squeeze.

“Principal Weems,” you manage to say, your voice only slightly breathy as you turn your head and realize that her face is a lot closer than you were expecting.

“Darling,” she says with a chuckle. “You’ve been at Nevermore for almost a year now, you’ve more than earned the right to call me Larissa.” Her cheeks grow even rosier as she talks to you - from the cold, probably, you think.

“Larissa,” you concede with a soft smile, your blush matching her own - definitely due to the wind nipping at your own skin. “What can I do for you?”

“I was actually wondering if you’d like to join me in my office this evening for a glass of wine.”

Your heart skips a beat, your smile growing in spite of yourself. “What’s the occasion?”

“We haven’t had much opportunity to get to know each other one-on-one this year - I’d like to change that.” Larissa looks almost nervous as she explains herself, but you shake it off - she couldn’t possibly be nervous asking you to join her for a drink. If anything, it’s the other way around - not that you’d ever admit that out loud. You’re sure your boss wouldn’t appreciate you openly crushing on her, and you want to remain professional.

“I’d love to, Larissa.” The name feels foreign on your tongue, but you could definitely get used to it. “What time were you thinking?”

The principal’s returning smile is bright - it melts your heart with its sincerity. “Does 7 o’clock suit you?”

~~~

That’s how you find yourself pacing anxiously in front of the door to Larissa’s office at 3 minutes to 7, not wanting to appear too eager - the decision on whether or not to knock already, however, is taken from you when the door creaks open, startling you and causing you to freeze in place as Larissa pokes her head into the hall.

“Principal Weems.” You hope you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, and you slide your hands into your pockets to keep them from shaking.

“Larissa,” she scolds playfully, stepping aside to let you into her office and closing the door behind you.

“Sorry. Larissa.” You like how the name rolls off your tongue - it makes you smile, and it appears to have the same effect on the principal. “How did you know I was already here?”

Larissa smirks - you could swear she’s giving you a once-over, her gaze sweeping your form, but she’s so quick about it that you wonder whether or not your brain is playing tricks on you. “I heard you pacing.”

You flush instantly, dropping your eyes to the floorboards in embarrassment. “Keen hearing,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but it gets a laugh out of the blonde - you glance up to see her grinning at you, which only makes you blush harder. 

To your relief, she’s turned just as red as you have, a fact that she seems eager to distract you from. “Please, have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the sofa in front of the roaring fire as she walks in the opposite direction, fetching a bottle of red and glasses from a small cabinet in the corner of her office.

The room is cozy, you think, as you sit on one end of the sofa, basking in your surroundings. Of course you’ve been in here plenty of times before, but never in such an intimate context - it’s always been business, never pleasure, and there’s never been time to properly admire how very Larissa the office is. 

The sofa dips beside you, the woman in question placing two glasses on the decorative coffee table in front of you and filling each with a bit of wine. You thank her, gingerly taking the stem of the glass between your fingers and raising it - Larissa does the same, smiling warmly as she clinks her glass against yours then takes a sip.

“I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable by inviting you here,” she says, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes follow her leg as she moves it, trailing down her calf as the firelight flickers against her pale skin - it’s both fascinating and arousing to you just how long her legs are, you’d love to get the chance to run your hands along her toned calves, rest them on her knees…

Fuck, you’re staring. You quickly look up to meet Larissa’s gaze, the only indication that she’s caught you staring is a faint blush on the apples of her cheeks. “N-no, of course not.” Shit, you’ve been caught. 

“Are you sure?” Larissa raises a thin, perfectly plucked eyebrow, and your stomach does a backflip.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Biting your lip, you take a sip of wine to calm your nerves. “I’m not uncomfortable at all, I promise. It’s just weird being so casual with you - I mean, you are my boss, you know.” You giggle nervously and Larissa takes a large swig of her wine, nearly draining the glass in one go.

“I hope it becomes less weird for you, otherwise you’re free to leave at any time.” There’s a hint of hardness in Larissa’s voice, and you frown. 

“I’m actually really glad you invited me,” you try to reassure her quickly. “I think it’d be nice to get to know you, I’m just a bit awkward. It has nothing to do with you.” You offer her a shy smile - she seems to recognize its earnestness, and she smiles back, nodding in acknowledgment. 

Larissa seems to relax quite a bit after that - once the tension has subsided, conversation begins to flow freely (as does the alcohol). One of the things that had drawn you to Larissa in the first place was that you’d never worked with another shapeshifter before - even meeting other shapeshifters is rare. Your shared ability is a natural icebreaker - as you begin to talk about school and students and classes, you manage to open up to each other a bit about the struggles you’ve faced with your abilities. The conversation doesn’t stop there, and you delve into topics like media and art, books you’ve enjoyed (and ones you’ve detested) and music you have on repeat. 

Getting to know the woman behind the title of ‘principal’ only intensifies your feelings for her - with every new topic, you feel as though you’re peeling back another layer to who she is, revealing a softer Larissa, just as passionate but also weird and quirky and wonderful - just as wonderful as you’d imagined her to be, possibly more so, and you’re starting to realize this is more than just a mere crush.

As the evening wears on, a different kind of tension fills the room. With every minute, the distance between the two of you seems to get smaller and smaller - with every new topic, every new layer discovered, Larissa gets closer, until her knee is only a hair’s breadth from your own. You’re not sure if the heat flooding your body is from the fire, the alcohol, your own arousal, or maybe even Larissa’s body heat as a result of her close proximity - perhaps it’s a mixture of all 4, you think. 

Though it seems thinking has become a bit of a problem for you - how many glasses of wine have you had, you wonder, as Larissa pours you another one, each somehow fuller than the last. Glancing at the table, you realize the second bottle is half empty - right. She’d gotten a second bottle about an hour ago. 

Larissa seems to be faring no better than you - she’s a lot more giggly than you’ve ever seen her and, honestly, a lot more flirtatious. You may be more than a little tipsy but you’re certainly not hammered, and you’ve noticed her eyes traveling the length of your body more than once throughout the evening, often lingering near your cleavage for just a moment too long.

You’re telling a story about an annoying coworker from your previous job when Larissa sets down her wine glass, resting her elbow on her knee and propping her chin up with her hand, getting even closer to you in the process. She watches you with great interest, hanging onto your every word with her lips pulled up into an amused smile.

“I really hope your colleagues here aren’t nearly as incompetent,” she says with a chuckle, placing a hand on your thigh - you feel as though she may as well be burning a hole straight through your trousers. 

You find yourself giggling as you subtly shift closer to her. “Don’t worry, Riss.” The nickname slips out before you can stop yourself, but from the way Larissa’s lips part and her thumb begins to gently rub your inner thigh just above your kneecap, you don’t think she minds. “I think you were a lot more thorough during the hiring process than my old boss.”

“I definitely was.” Her voice drops an octave - heat pools in your core, and you feel your mouth go dry as Larissa’s gaze pierces your own, her eyelids hooded. You lick your lips, which suddenly feel dry as the Sahara.

“Tell me darling,” she husks. “Do I make you nervous?”

The sudden question does make you a little nervous - at a loss for words, you nod your head, and Larissa smirks in response. 

“I don’t mean to,” she coos, her hand remaining on your thigh as her other hand cups your cheek. Suddenly she’s right there, it would be so easy to just lean in and…

Larissa catches you staring at her lips and she parts them as she cocks her head - they look so soft and full, so incredibly inviting… 

You’re not sure who’s closed the gap, all you know is that your eyes have fluttered shut and that her lips feel even softer than they look. They’re warm, and they taste like lipstick and wine, and before you know it, you feel her tongue soothe over the seam of your lips as her fingers curl behind your ear. 

The groan that you let out when you part your lips and feel Larissa’s tongue slip inside of your mouth is so loud that you feel yourself blush. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, however - she licks into your mouth with an eagerness with which you’ve never been kissed before, flicking her tongue sensually against your own. You feel her smile into the kiss as she deepens it, her hand sliding to the back of your head and holding it in place.

Placing your hands on her waist, you slowly lean back and pull Larissa with you, until you’re on your back and she’s on top of you, her body weight pressing you down into the upholstery. It sends a prickling wave of heat throughout your entire being, every nerve-ending in your body seemingly alight as your head swims. 

Your hands slide lower until you’re palming her ass - Larissa moans into your mouth, and the sound jolts you back to reality for a moment. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you pant as you pull away to catch your breath, moving your hands back up to her waist, where they feel a bit safer. 

“I’m not.” Her boldness shocks you, and you meet her gaze only to see that her pupils are blown wide, filled with unfiltered desire. 

“You’re drunk…” You want it to sound firm yet gentle, and yet it comes out sounding more like a question.

“So are you,” she retorts, raising her eyebrow at you. Touché. “I want you.”

Any resolve you might’ve had had been torn down a few glasses of wine ago, and was now rapidly crumbling into dust. A whimper claws its way from your throat as Larissa’s hands find their way underneath your shirt, her palms warm and soft against your abdomen as she gently and ever so slowly pushes your shirt higher and higher, searching your face for consent. 

Fuck it. 

You help her make quick work of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. She fumbles a bit with the button of your trousers, her fingers moving clumsily - you giggle, attributing it to her inebriated state, and help her to remove them, sliding your underwear right down with them. 

You’re left only in your bra, something Larissa seems intent on changing as her fingers trace along the straps. You sit up a bit, allowing her to reach around your back and find the band with her hands.

“Fuck,” she mumbles as she struggles to unclasp your bra - you’ve never heard her curse before, and the word fills you with heat. 

“Let me help,” you whisper breathily, reaching behind yourself and swiftly undoing the clasp of your bra, allowing it to fall away from your body to reveal your bare chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath and Larissa’s eyes darken as they fall to your breasts. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her cheeks flushing to a beautiful, rosy hue. She leans down to kiss you and your hands find her waist again, holding her close. 

Larissa’s lips soon leave your own, only to trail sloppy, heated kisses along your jaw, down your neck, onto your sternum. She pauses there for a moment, her breath hot against your skin. She slowly pulls back, looking into your eyes with a hint of a question swimming in her pupils. “Is it okay if I…” Her demeanor is suddenly a bit shyer, more timid and hesitant as the forceful dominance from before slips away like sand.

“If you…?” you try to encourage her, but then you see her gaze lingering on your tits. You smirk, arching your back so that your chest is on full display for Larissa - she licks her lips involuntarily as her cheeks flush even further. “You can do whatever you want with me,” you husk, feeling your heart skip a beat when Larissa’s pupils dilate. 

She hesitates for only a moment longer, before leaning in again. Her breath ghosts over your nipple, goosebumps rising on the flesh around it as you feel yourself begin to tremble with anticipation. A soft whimper escapes your throat as Larissa’s lips close around the sensitive bud, her tongue flicking against it. 

A hum vibrates against your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine as Larissa begins to suck eagerly, her hands coming to rest on your hips to steady herself as she loses herself in you, making muffled noises of pleasure against your breast.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you groan, growing wetter by the second as you watch her get carried away, her eyes closed in bliss. At the sound of your voice, her eyes fly open - she looks up at you with doe eyes, her irises barely visible around her black pupils, yet so very bright and blue that you could drown in them. There’s something about her soft gaze, the gorgeous flush to her cheeks, the wispy blonde curl that’s come loose near her temple - she looks so eager and innocent, so submissive that it sends a flood of warmth to your cunt, and you can feel your arousal wet your thighs as you press them together.

You bring a hand to the back of her head, gently scratching her scalp in encouragement. “Good girl,” you whisper softly, watching for a reaction. And what a reaction you get - Larissa’s cheeks redden, her eyes falling shut as she moans against your breast. 

As she switches sides, you allow your head to fall back against the armrest of the sofa - you’re surprised to find your own reflection staring back at you in the mirrored ceiling, your cheeks flushed and your jaw slack. Your chest and the lower half of your face are littered in deep red lipstick marks, some shaped perfectly like Larissa’s lips, others smudged messily across your skin like strokes on a canvas. Larissa’s canvas. 

The back of her head bobbing against your chest in the mirror turns you on beyond belief, but it feels tragically unfair that her body remains hidden to you, her silhouette masked by her dress. You look down at her, her brow furrowed as her painted lips wrap around your nipple, leaving smudged red stains on your skin. Gently easing your fingers into her updo, you pull her back by the hair a little - only a slight tug, just enough to stop her ministrations and have her look up at you, her expression dazed. 

You smile softly, pushing yourself up a bit and reaching for the belt of Larissa’s dress. “May I?”

She nods and you raise your eyebrow. “Use your words.” 

“Y-you may.” The words come out breathy as warmth floods Larissa’s cheeks, and she sits back to allow you to peel her dress from her body. One by one you remove her clothing, until every inch of her skin is bare before you. 

“Jesus, Larissa, you look like you’ve been sculpted by the Gods…” You’re in awe of her body; the womanly curve of her hips, the tantalizing swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, those long, long legs. Her cheeks and chest turn red at your compliment and her smile is almost timid as she places one hand on her stomach, the other over her chest. 

You take her hands in your own, uncovering her body and interlacing your fingers with hers, stretching up to kiss her. She melts into the kiss, a soft moan escaping her lips, and you take the opportunity to place your hands on her waist, pushing yourself onto your knees and switching places with Larissa, guiding her onto her back.

She watches you intently, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Her lipstick is smudged around her mouth and up to her nose - it’s adorable, and it makes you want to kiss her senseless to mess it up even more, so you do. Larissa begins to let out soft noises of pleasure into your mouth as your tongues meet, and she protests when you pull away - she’s so needy that it makes you melt. 

“Can you do something for me?”

Larissa’s brows furrow as her chest heaves, her breathing short and heavy. She nods.

“I want you to watch yourself as I fuck you.” A confused stare is all you receive in return and you chuckle. “Look up, Riss.”

Her eyes leave your own as she tilts her head back and glances at the ceiling - a soft “oh” escapes her lips, and you can see her chest redden. With a satisfied smirk, you begin to place soft kisses to her chest, trailing your lips down her stomach as your hands busy themselves fondling her breasts. She seems to be sensitive there if her stuttering breath is anything to go by, and you’re pleased to pull a gasp out of her as you roll her nipples between your fingers, working the little buds into hard peaks. 

Your lips travel over the little patch of curls at her mound, then even lower. The scent of her arousal fills your nostrils and your mouth begins to water - your hands leave Larissa’s breasts to hook her leg over your shoulder and spread her thighs wider. She squirms a bit as your warm breath ghosts over her sex - you glance up to see her looking obediently up at the ceiling, biting her lip, her hands resting on her belly. 

“You can tell me to stop any time,” you remind her gently. 

“Don’t stop,” she whispers after a moment’s silence - your heart flutters.

“Be a good girl and play with your tits for me,” you say, your tone commanding. Her breath hitches and she hesitates for a moment, before fondling her own breasts, a breathy whimper leaving her lips as she tugs at her nipples.

Flattening your tongue, you lick a path up her slit - the moment your tongue makes contact with her cunt, Larissa’s hips buck into your mouth, twitching of their own accord. You take your time exploring her folds, even using your fingers to part her labia so that your tongue can indulge itself in every inch of her pussy. You alternate between teasing her entrance with the tip of your tongue and sucking her labia, getting even more drunk off the way her thighs tremble against your head and the way she rolls her hips, letting out frustrated whines as her clit is neglected. 

Finally, you lick your way up to the little bundle of nerves, wrapping your lips around it - the second you do so, Larissa cries out in relief and pleasure, her hips twitching. She begins to grind desperately against your mouth, every gentle suck seeming to send her into orbit as she finally gets the stimulation she’s been craving.

You glance up, arousal pooling in your core as you see the way Larissa’s fondling her breasts, her back arching and her head tilted back as she rubs her nipples. You flick your tongue against her clit and her mouth drops open, a steady stream of “ah, ah, ah’s” spilling out of her as the grinding of her hips becomes more erratic.

Her moans are cut off for a moment as your finger teases her slit, finding her entrance and pushing in with ease due to just how wet she is. She’s tight and her walls clench around your finger - you moan against her clit, a shiver of lust going down your spine as you slowly curl your finger into her sweet spot. 

“Think you can take another?” you husk, waiting for Larissa’s breathy “mmpf… y-yes” before pushing a second finger inside of her to join the first and slowly pumping them in and out. “Good girl…” Your mouth returns to her clit, lapping up her juices and smearing them around the sensitive nub.

You’re completely lost in pleasure, drunk not only on wine but on the taste, the scent, the feeling of Larissa on your tongue, against your fingers, consuming your every sense. Your eyes are closed in bliss as you work her to the edge - so you can’t help but jump a bit in surprise as you feel a pressure on your scalp. 

Opening your eyes, you find that Larissa’s hands have left her breasts in favor of cupping your head, her fingers weaving themselves tightly into your tresses. She pushes on your head, using you as leverage as she rolls her hips against your face - she’s so lost in the moment that she doesn’t seem to realize she’s doing it, and it drives you wild. 

A few more flicks of your tongue against her clit are all Larissa needs to come undone - her moans are like music to your ears as she finds her release, her fingers tugging at your hair with a white-knuckled grip as her thighs snap shut around your head. You fuck her through her orgasm, not relenting a bit - you’re rewarded when she cums a second time shortly after, and this time you slowly pull your fingers out of her to hungrily lap up the juices that are leaking out of her.

Gently pushing her leg off your shoulder, you crawl up her body, eager to have her taste herself on your tongue. As you’re hovering over her, you can’t help but blurt out “you’re gorgeous” - because she really is, lying there panting, her chest pink and heaving, a thin sheen of sweat coating her body and collecting at her brow. A breathy giggle escapes her lips at your words, and her eyes are glazed over as she meets your gaze. You lean down to capture her lips in a kiss - Larissa instantly opens her mouth and flicks her tongue against yours, a whimper clawing its way out of her throat at the taste of her own arousal.

“You taste so fucking good,” you mumble into the kiss - Larissa whimpers again and deepens the kiss further, placing a hand on the back of your head and weaving her fingers into your hair to hold you in place.

The gentle tug of your hair makes a fresh wave of arousal pool between your thighs, and you find yourself searching for friction against your aching clit. Pressing against Larissa’s thigh, you tilt your hips - the relief you feel as your clit makes contact with Larissa’s skin is overwhelming, as is the desire to rut against her and use her to reach your peak. So you do.

Your slick drips onto Larissa’s thigh as you grind against it, your eyes rolling back in your head and your kisses turning sloppy as you chase your high. With the taste of Larissa still fresh on your tongue, it takes you almost no time at all to cum - the principal swallows your cries as you tumble over the edge, then, as you allow yourself to sink into her, she wraps her arms around your body and holds you tightly against her.

You’re a little annoyed by the fact that your stamina seems to be impacted by the alcohol - a part of you is desperate to go another round, but you seem to have worn yourself out as exhaustion tugs at your limbs and a drunken, post-orgasmic haze clouds your mind.

Still, you’re desperate to take care of Larissa after she was so good for you. You lift your head and rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her with a soft, adoring smile. She looks down as you move your head and blushes as she sees you smiling up at her - her rosy cheeks are a sight to behold, and you suddenly find yourself getting a bit nervous again. 

“Is it alright if I clean you up a bit?” you whisper softly, your voice a little raspier than usual - you can’t tell if it’s that or your request that causes Larissa’s blush to grow.

“You would do that?” She sounds shy, and it makes you wonder if her past lovers had never afforded her with aftercare - assholes, you think.

“Of course I would.” You push yourself up off the sofa, a bit unsteady on your feet at first - you stumble a bit, then you giggle. “Shit. Where’s your bathroom?” 

Larissa giggles too and points to a door at the back of her office. “Straight down the hall.” 

You feel a bit like you’re floating - you’d like to attribute it to the way it felt to have Larissa look at you with such unadulterated desire in her eyes (you’ve never been looked at in quite that way, and certainly not by anyone as perfect as her) - but it’s probably more so a combination of the wine and the orgasm. Finding the bathroom with ease, you rummage around in search of washcloths, then proceed to wet them in the sink - you’re so focused on your task that you hardly notice Larissa come in, until her naked body is pressed against your back, nipples poking at your skin and sending a delicious shiver down your spine. You look up and meet her gaze in the mirror as her hands find a home on your hips - she smiles and blushes, ducking her head to press a tender kiss to the junction where your shoulder and your neck meet. 

It takes all your strength to keep yourself upright - your legs feel like jello and your knees threaten to give out. Focusing on the task at hand, you spin around in Larissa’s arms and maintain eye contact as you sink down in front of her, the scent of her arousal, her sweat, lingering notes of perfume all making you even dizzier than you already are as you gently clean up the insides of her thighs, her pussy. 

You stand, using another washcloth to quickly clean yourself up and discarding both on the counter, before pushing yourself onto your toes to give Larissa a kiss. 

“I should probably get going,” you murmur sheepishly against her lips - immediately feeling her pout. It makes you grin, and you pull back a bit. “If you want me to stay, you just have to say so, you know?”

Larissa’s cheeks are blazing red, and she stutters a bit - it makes your heart melt. “I-I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you here against your will…”

You laugh, reaching out for her hand and intertwining your fingers with her own. “I’d lead you to your bed now if I had any clue where it was.”

Shooting you a grateful smile, Larissa takes the lead. The moment you’ve climbed into bed, you feel an inescapable sleepiness settle into your bones. You dimly register the bed dip beside you as Larissa crawls in, and then she hastily pulls the pins from her hair and drops them on her nightstand. Her arm tugs at your waist, a sleepy hum vibrating from her chest. She must’ve used her other arm to flick off the lamp on the bedside table as the room is bathed in darkness - then you’re out.

~~~

You’re woken by a harsh light falling into your eyes - you groan and turn your face into the pillow to block it out, your head throbbing at the sudden movement. Shit, you really overdid it last night… 

As the memory of the previous evening hits you, your stomach fills with butterflies all over again - the way Larissa’s hand had felt on your thigh, the way her lips had felt against your nipples, the way she’d pulled you close as you’d fallen asleep… your heart drops and you lift your head, your eyes taking a minute to focus as they fall onto the woman sleeping next to you.

Her lips are parted to let out heavy breaths, her hair sticking to the side of her face as a puddle of drool forms on her pillow. Her eyelids move as she dreams but she looks content. In spite of the drool and the messiness of her curls, you’ve never seen someone look so beautiful sleeping - your heart skips a beat as you realize this isn’t a dream, you’re actually in Larissa’s bed.

The urge to sneak out and run overcomes you for a moment - you don’t know how Larissa will react upon seeing you, if last night would have taken the same course without the alcohol. But you’re no coward, and leaving her alone feels like a shitty move - best to face the consequences of your actions head-on.

Tentatively, you reach out and brush your fingers against her cheekbone, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear - her nose twitches and her eyelashes flutter a bit. The touch seems to rouse her - it takes a moment, but she eventually opens her eyes, looking a bit disoriented and squinting against the brightness of the room.

“Good morning,” you whisper softly, unable to disguise the nervous edge to your voice. 

You can tell Larissa is thinking - hard. Her brows furrow the slightest bit and her eyes dart between your own as she lifts her head off the pillow. She glances down the length of the bed - the two of you are close, the sheets a tangled mess, barely covering your still-naked bodies. She takes a long time to respond, so long that you’re beginning to worry, and you find yourself breaking the silence.

“Do you regret it?” you murmur - your stomach is in knots at the idea that Larissa only decided to seduce you because she was drunk, perhaps even too drunk to properly consent - you find yourself swallowing down a bit of bile at the mere thought. Time seems to slow as you watch her lips part, and you find yourself having to concentrate to catch her whispered response.

“No,” she confesses, her cheeks dusted pink as she glances away from you, unable to meet your gaze. “Do you?”

Your heart skips a beat and you can’t help the way your lips are pulling up into a smile. “No.”

Larissa’s gaze snaps to yours, as if your answer has caught her off-guard. Then she smiles shyly, taking a shaky breath. “Although I must apologize for drinking so much… it wasn’t my intention, nor was it my intention to seduce you when I invited you to share the evening with me.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “If I hadn’t been drunk I probably wouldn’t have been able to go through with it…”

“Nor would I…” A faint smirk crosses Larissa’s face. “Is this the right time to admit that I like you?”

You feel your face flush - you can hardly believe your ears. Larissa actually likes you? “I like you, too,” you whisper hoarsely. “I like you a lot.”

Larissa smiles, one of those smiles that make her nose scrunch and her eyes crinkle at the corners - then she hesitates for a moment, her expression falling. “Darling?”

The pet name hits different when you’re in bed with her, though her expression makes you pause. “Yeah?”

“That was the first time I’ve ever actually… had sex with someone.” Her gaze drops to the bed as she speaks. “I don’t think it’s fair for you not to know that.”

At first, her confession shocks you - she’s the most beautiful, sensual woman you’ve ever met, there’s no way she’s never had sex before. But, as you think over your interactions the previous evening, it starts to make sense. Her sudden shift in demeanor, her hesitance after initially seducing you. You cup her cheek, urging her to look at you - her sapphire eyes are swimming with worry.

“Thank you for telling me,” you whisper. “Can I, um, ask why? Were you saving yourself for marriage or something?”

Larissa snorts. “Nothing like that…” She takes a deep breath, pausing for a moment to think. “I didn’t accept that I liked women until much later in life, I didn’t realize why the thought of being with a man put me off so much. I didn’t want to realize it. And by then I had started my career and it became increasingly harder to find the time to date, and to open myself up to people.”

“You didn’t have trouble opening yourself up to me last night,” you point out with a smirk.

“I wanted to take a chance…” Her eyes dance between your own - her vulnerability is enough to make you melt.

“Did it pay off?”

“Yes.”

You pause for a moment. “Well… then I guess I’m sorry that your first time had to be when we were drunk,” you finally whisper shyly.

“I enjoyed myself either way,” she whispers back. “Perhaps we could try again sober?”

Her wry smile makes you laugh, and you lean in to kiss her. You can feel her arm wind its way around your waist and you eagerly scoot closer, threading your fingers through her soft curls as you deepen the kiss.

Larissa moans into your mouth, her hands sliding down to cup your ass - you can feel yourself grow wet as she palms and squeezes the soft flesh, and you tug gently at her hair, exposing her neck as you kiss your way along her jaw and towards her pulse point. You feel her pulse hammering away underneath your tongue as you suck a bruise into her pale skin, drawing a whimper from her throat. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper. Larissa nods eagerly, and you pull away. “Words, Larissa… you need to tell me what you want.”

Her eyes widen and her face flushes as she stutters out an apology and says “yes, it’s okay.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you mumble as your lips trail down her neck and find her collarbone - Larissa whimpers and tilts her head back, her lips parting to let out shallow breaths. You shift your leg against her, your thigh slipping between hers - her slick immediately coats your skin and draws a groan from your chest. “Fuck, you’re so wet…”

The breathy, strangled moan Larissa gives you in response has you wishing you could pound her into the mattress, and you’re not sure where the sudden courage has come from but you find yourself asking if she owns a strap. Her pupils dilate instantly but she bites her lip and shakes her head. You can’t help the way disappointment briefly swells in your chest - until an idea has you blushing profusely. 

“W-what’s wrong?” Larissa asks breathlessly, her brows knitting together in worry at the look on your face. 

“I, um… I just had a thought, but it’s silly…”

“What is it?”

With a deep breath, you steel yourself for rejection. “M-maybe, if you wanted, since we don’t have a strap, I could shift… you know, that part of myself?” The urge to bury your head in the crook of her neck is stronger than ever but you’re glad you don’t as Larissa’s expression ignites a fire in your core. Her cheeks flush and her mouth hangs open, and she subconsciously tugs you closer from where her hands are still resting on your ass.

“I think I’d like to try that,” she whispers.

You nod, feeling a bit dazed as you wonder if this is all some sort of fever dream. After a moment, your cock grows against Larissa’s thigh - you watch her face intently and see her swallow visibly, pale lashes fluttering against her cheekbones. 

“Say the word and I’ll stop or shift back, no questions asked,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Larissa nods, her arousal plain as day in her expression. “P-please…”

Cupping her cheek, you pull her in for a searing kiss, which she quickly deepens as she licks into your mouth and flicks her tongue against yours. Flipping her onto her back, you hover over her, your cock brushing against her folds and making you both moan at the same time.

You prop yourself up above her, breaking the kiss for a moment as you grasp your cock and guide it up her slit, watching Larissa’s face as her breathing stutters. Her hands fly to your waist as you tease her entrance with the tip, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

As you slowly begin to sink into her, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Your eyes snap to her face and you notice she’s holding her breath, so you pause to take her hands in your own and intertwine your fingers with hers. “Breathe... I won’t move again until you do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Larissa takes a deep breath, then another - you continue to sink into her as slowly and carefully as you can, and she squeezes your hands as her brow furrows a bit. You stay perfectly still once you’re fully sheathed inside of her, giving her as much time as she needs to adjust before moving.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you breathe out with a chuckle. Her gaze is equal parts questioning and shy, and you smile down at her. “F-feels really good… just tell me when to move…”

Larissa nods, resting her hands on your hips and rubbing her thumbs over your hip bones as her gaze wanders down your body. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. 

“I am,” she whispers hoarsely. “Just feeling a bit out of my depth…”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I got you.”

A grateful smile tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips and she wiggles her hips a bit - your eyes flutter shut as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your lips parting to let out a soft moan.

“Y-you can move,” Larissa encourages, pressing her hips up a bit. With her consent, you start to thrust, pulling out almost all the way before bottoming out, your pelvis resting against hers. Larissa’s mouth falls open as her eyes fall shut, her grip on your hips tightening. For a moment you’re worried that she’s in pain but then, with the next slow thrust, a loud moan tears from her throat and her lips curl into a blissful smile. 

“Is it okay like this?” you ask through gritted teeth, your body prickling with heat at the feeling of her walls squeezing your cock.

“Y-yes… you can go f-faster if you’d like…”

You increase the pace of your thrusts, Larissa’s hands helping to guide your hips as they roll against her. The perks of being a shapeshifter, you think as your mind grows slightly fuzzy - being able to feel Larissa squeeze your dick as you move inside of her feels like absolute heaven, a feeling you wouldn’t know with a strap alone. Your eyes can’t seem to decide what they want to focus on - Larissa’s face scrunching in pleasure, her tits bouncing with every movement, the sight of your cock disappearing inside of her.

Leaning down over her, you bury your hands in Larissa’s soft curls as your lips meet hers - her breath is hot and uneven against your mouth and she whimpers as your tongue dances with her own.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge with every thrust, Larissa’s body pressing against your own turns you on beyond belief, but you know she isn’t quite there yet. One of your hands leaves her hair and trails down her body to her clit. Larissa arches her back into your touch, her breath growing shallower and her kiss turning sloppy as you begin to rub her clit, smearing her arousal over the sensitive bud.

“Mmh… ssso good,” Larissa whimpers as her hands fly to your hair and push your head down - getting the hint, you trail kisses down the valley between her breasts, before taking her right nipple between your lips and sucking eagerly. The combination of stimuli have Larissa’s orgasm rapidly approaching, her walls fluttering around your cock as her thighs begin to tremble.

“Bend - mmh, fuck - bend your legs m-more,” you mumble - as Larissa follows your instructions and draws her knees closer to her chest, her eyes roll back in her head and she lets out a broken moan as you’re able to thrust even deeper inside of her. Every thrust jolts her entire body and tears deep, broken moans from her chest. 

“Good girl,” you purr as you latch onto her left nipple, recalling the way she’d reacted to your praise the previous night - it seems to send her over the edge this time as she cums around your cock, her moans dying in her throat as her face contorts in pleasure.

Her orgasm causes your own to crash over you like a wave - you cum deep inside of her, your hips stuttering and your fingers breaking their steady rhythm on her clit. As Larissa’s orgasm begins to fade, her hands gently tug at your hair and pull you up for a heated kiss. Her lips feel like heaven, the euphoria from your orgasm makes you feel like you’re floating as you slow your thrusts.

“S-sensitive,” Larissa murmurs as her hands drift from your head to your hips, gripping tightly to still your movements - you stop thrusting and pull back slightly to meet her gaze. Her face is flushed and her pupils still blown wide, though her brows are slightly furrowed.

You reach up to cup her cheek, gently stroking your thumb across her cheekbone - she smiles softly, nuzzling her cheek against your hand. “Is it okay if I pull out and shift back?”

At Larissa’s nod, you move your hips - a soft groan tumbles from her lips as your cock slips out of her. Within seconds you’ve shifted back, lowering yourself carefully onto Larissa and pressing a kiss to her lips. You feel her smirk into the kiss - it makes every nerve-ending in your body tingle.

She rolls you onto your side without breaking the kiss, then pushes you onto your back and leans over you, her nipples pressing against your own. The friction makes you gasp and you feel yourself grow wet as a rush of arousal pools in your core.

Larissa’s lips leave your own to travel along your jaw and down the center of your throat. You arch your back into the touch as each press of soft, plush lips leaves your skin burning. As she settles between your legs, her lips alternate between each thigh, getting closer and closer to where you need them with every kiss. “Is this okay?” she asks hesitantly, her warmth breath ghosting over your clit and pulling a whimper from your throat.

Looking between your thighs, you’re met with wide blue eyes gazing questioningly up at you, her pupils blown and her cheeks flushed. You nod frantically, only to see her lips curl up into a smirk.

“I need words, darling,” Larissa purrs, using your own words against you - you can’t help but let out a breathy laugh, allowing your head to fall back against the pillows for a moment. 

“Sorry,” you giggle, peering down at her with a sheepish smile. “Y-yeah, it’s okay.”

A faint blush adorns Larissa’s cheeks as she places her hands on your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart and spreading you open in the process. She sucks in a breath as her eyes drop to your glistening cunt - after a moment’s hesitation, she leans in and runs her tongue up your slit, her accompanying moan vibrating against your pussy and sending a wave of pleasure through your entire body. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, your eyes glued to her as her head bobs between your legs, her eyes shut as her tongue explores every inch of your cunt, running through your folds and teasing your entrance. Every little hum and whimper of pleasure that escapes her lips makes you wetter, and you find yourself spreading your legs as wide as you can and rolling your hips against her face, desperate for attention to your aching clit.

She seems to enjoy teasing you - you can almost feel her smile against your pussy as she eats you out, her tongue getting close to your clit but never fully touching it. It takes a whimpered “please, Larissa” for her to finally circle the throbbing bud with her tongue - the feeling makes your toes curl and you fall back against the pillows, a deep moan drawn from your chest. 

Larissa’s lips close around your clit, sucking gently at first, then harder as you buck your hips against her. She gets bolder as time goes on, curling her arms around your thighs and tugging you even closer as she slowly builds you to an orgasm. The little noises she’s making combined with the obscenely wet sound of your slick mixed with Larissa’s saliva only serve to turn you on further - a few licks later you’re tumbling over the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head and your back arching off the bed as your hips stutter against her face and your clit pulses against her tongue.

As you slowly come back down to earth, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, Larissa crawls up your body, planting soft, wet kisses up your stomach and chest before hovering over you and capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You eagerly suck your juices off her tongue, humming in delight even as your cheeks turn pink.

Larissa’s blush matches your own as she pulls back, her eyes sparkling as they dart between your own. “Was that okay?” 

“That was perfect.” Your grin is practically giddy as you cup her cheek, your fingers curling behind her ear as you draw her in for another, longer kiss. Your hands come to rest on her waist, gently urging her onto her side as you kiss until both of you have run out of air. When you pull back and open your eyes, her warm breath hits your face and she’s smiling peacefully. A lock of platinum blonde hair is stuck to her temple and you reach up to brush your hand through her hair, pushing it back - her smile grows and she lets out a contented hum.

“To think yesterday you couldn’t even call me by my first name,” Larissa whispers playfully - her voice still has a bit of a husky quality to it that makes your stomach flip. As her words sink in you find yourself blushing like mad - you wish the statement weren’t as true as it is, but somehow in the span of one night everything has changed, and you can’t say you’re complaining.

“I can still call you Principal Weems in bed if you want,” you joke, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Oh? Is that what you’re into?” Larissa teases with a laugh, though her own cheeks are growing warmer by the second.

“I’ll try anything once.”

Larissa’s laugh catches in her throat and her pupils dilate - you take the opportunity to steal a kiss, one which catches her off guard at first but is quickly and happily returned.

“So you’d want to continue this?” she asks breathlessly against your lips.

You nod, swallowing nervously. “I’ve wanted you in this way and every other way for so long, Larissa. I’d love nothing more, if that’s something you’d also like.” Your eyes search hers for a hint of uncertainty, apprehension, disappointment - instead, you’re met with softness and affection as Larissa’s lips curl up at the corners.

“Then it appears we’re on the same page.” 

“It appears we are…”

x

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[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

Hi! I loved your fic lovely jokester! I was wondering if you could do a part 2?

Basically reader deals with flirting and clumsiness when the team goes out for drinks to celebrate something?

Love your work 💕💕

lovely jokester pt2 [a.bonmati x reader]

prompt: aitana likes your jokes way more when she is drunk and being clumsy.

author notes: thank you 💞 i hope this is what you wanted. this is way more stupid than the first one so enjoy.

barcelona has once again won another match and this time around the team decided to go out to celebrate. it was the middle of season, so celebrating is a nice gift for all the hard work the team has been putting in so far this season.

you would think you would give the flirty jokes a break (your teammates wished you did), but no you have to continue being annoying like always. good thing this time around aitana was willing to indulge to your (loving) stupidity.

the team has been out drinking and eating for about a whole hour at this point. you are little tipsy, but not enough to cause concern. meanwhile your girlfriend has been sipping on cocktails since the team got to the restaurant. you have one arm resting on the table and the other around aitana's waist. she's leaning her head against your shoulder as she sips on some fruity cocktail patri gave her a while ago.

the team is spread out across the restaurant with some at the table, some at the bar and others on the dance floor.

with it basically just being you and aitana at the table, you decide it's the perfect time to strike again.

"bebe..." you say mischievously as you turn your head a bit to look at your girlfriend. she smiles up at you. too drunk to really care about the trouble making expression you had on that beautiful face of yours. however, salma and claudia did notice that look you had. they weren't about to listen to another one of your cringey jokes. "don't even think about it" claudia says as she glares at you. salma gives you glare as well.

none of their warnings mattered when aitana was still smiling up at you like you were the only thing in the world. "hm?" she hums up at you. awaiting your response.

"are you from tennessee? cause you're a ten" you say before laughing loudly. salma almost facepalms before getting out of her seat, "i'm too sober to be dealing with this today." she walks off, probably to the bar. claudia follows right behind her. aitana pauses for a moment, processing your joke, before laughing right alongside you. she couldn't help it; your jokes sounded ten times funnier when she has alcohol in her system.

the only one entertained at the table beside you and aitana was ona who has way too much alcohol in her system at this point to care about the cringe level of your joke. she laughs along with you two. keira sits beside the brunette spainard and just roll her eyes at ona's reaction.

aitana eventually stops laughing as she leans up to give you a kiss. at first it was short but soon leads to much longer kiss. a kiss full of tongue and the fruity taste of aitana's drink. when you pull away for much needed air, ona and keira are gone. now you two really are the only ones at the table.

aleast it wasn't your joke this time (or aleast not your joke entirely).

it was later on in the night when you finally got some more alcohol in your system. you had took a few sips of aitana's drink and took a few shots after alexia dared you, so now you and your girlfriend are both way too tipsy. with the spainish player being way more drunk than you.

most of the team was going to back to the hotel now. they start to leave one by one until it was just aitana and you. you two stand outside of the restaurant, watching people walk by. the street wasn't as busy as it was earlier, but still people are lingering around.

after a few moments you wrap your arm around aitana's waist and pull her close. starting to walk towards the hotel as she clings to your side. a drunk aitana is a sleepy, clingy aitana which was very cute in your book. "mm, mi vida.." you can't even contain your laughter as you think of another stupid joke. your girlfriend who was too drunk to process or even care about why you're laughing. she just laughs alongside you.

"are you a chili? because you make my face hot" you smirk down at her. she looks up at you, smiling, "bebe!"

she starts to laugh again. a giggly drunk aitana is not one who pays attention as her shoe collides with the ground in a bad way leading her to fall right on the ground. she laughs even harder as she sits up. you lean down to help her up but end up falling down right next to her. now you're both just laughing over basically nothing.

you two help eachother up after a few minutes. both of y'all legs feel a little weaker than before, but it's okay. you have eachother to lean on to.

[ianales]

High Infidelity (Lo’ak x Omatikaya! Reader)

a/n: my first time writing so im sorry if this is kinda shitty.

after 5 years with the Metkayina clan the sullys finally returned to the forest bringing along tsireya and ao’nung. Reader reunites with lo’ak her promised mate, to find out he already has one.

Warnings: angst, cheater?Lo’ak (sorry yall)

disclaimer: past lo’ak is 19, (cheater! lo’ak is 23)

part 1 ——— part 2 (tbc)

The horns were blaring indicating that there were someone coming, people rushed to the landing area to see who is was.

“TORUK MACTO AND HIS FAMILY HAS RETURNED” someone yelled. That caught my attention immediately, it’s been five years since the sullys brought the love of my life away, it's been hell but i managed.

According to your friends and family, you two were a match made in heaven, initially it was an arranged marriage, the plan was to fake it for one year. However slowly it turned real, it was the best thing that happened in my life.

When the sullys announced that they were leaving, i was devastated, i spent the last days with lo'ak, i couldn't leave his side.

"i'll come back for you, i promise, me and you against the world yea?" his hazel eyes staring deep into mine never failed to make me feel safe. "me and you against the world." i smiled.

I rushed to the landing zone, abandoning the necklace i was making, it felt like my legs were flying off, when i finally arrived i pushed my way to the front of the crowd, my heart fluttered at the sight of him, "LO'AK! i yelled on the top of my lungs, it only took him one second to look over her, i was as happy as i could get, however his expression wasn't mirrored, but replaced with a expression i can't read.

It was until then i saw someone behind him, a girl, my expression faltered, it's okay maybe she's his friend. my eyes flickered down to her arms, wrapped around his waist, she had beautiful curls, light blue skin, her eyes were these captivating baby blues, she was beautiful.

"(name)!!!" my eyes left lo'ak's and connected with Tuk's. she jumped off of Neytiri's ikran and rushed over to me, i immediately took her in my arms and gave her a big hug, "i missed you Tuk!" closing my eyes, "me too! lo'ak look it's (name)!".

"yeah i know i saw..". i was too focused on hugging Tuk to realize that he was already right in front of me, god he was so different, much more taller, muscular, he smelled different, his braids were longer, filled with new beads but he was still lo'ak, my lo'ak.

i stared into his eyes, my smile appeared again, i was just so happy to see him, i leaned forward and hugged him, my arms wrapped around his neck, he returned the favour and wrapped his around my waist. after a while i let go, staring into his eyes, i leaned in for a kiss but he dodged it, leaning his face to the right allowing my lips to land on his cheek.

i frowned, and let go of him, "whats wrong?" my eyes flickering to the girl i assumed to be his friend, "who's she?", she noticed my attention was on her, she was walking over here, why was she walking over here?, "hi! my name is tsireya! you must be one of lo'ak's friends, he talked a lot about his friends back home, i just can't wait to meet them!". "im sorry? what? friends??" i chuckled, "no, no, no im lo'ak's m-", "best friend! she's my best friend" he dryly chuckled cutting me off. "(name)! tsireya is my uhh my uh..", "lo'ak? are you okay?" tsireya questioned.

"(name) tsireya is my mate.." he finally said. i didn't know how react, i was frozen, tears filled my eyes, the surrounding omatikayans’ chatting with jake and neytiri looking around shocked, there were quiet gasps and murmurs all around. "lo'ak why are they reacting like this?...". Tsireya questioned uncomfortably. before lo'ak had the chance to come up with another lie, i gathered upp all my feelings, and couraged up to say,

"because he is, was my mate”

[ratcash-wasgud]

MR. KRABS, I HAVE AN IDEAA! (I'm so sorry, I hope you get this reference...) Modern!Mizu x Shy Reader who absolutely adores sketching in their free time, but specifically loves drawing Mizu?

Mizu is unaware for a long time but finds a sketchbook filled with beautiful sketches of her, with little notes by them that the reader made such as 'I love my girlfriend' , 'Her nose is so pretty' , 'I like how well I captured her jawline, it encompasses just how pretty she is.' Every page is filled with little side-note compliments/notes to self (That the reader didn't expect her to see) and Mizu just fawns and falls in love with the shy reader even more. Maybe Mizu will bring it up and reader gets flustered and eventually they spend their free time doing little drawing contests of each other? I thought it was a cute idea, I hope you are doing well and have a great day! :)

DAAAAAMN

love this idea. i'm probably gonna turn this into loser!mizu propaganda tho muhahaha

btw I'M SO SORRY I'M ABSENT and i'm very behind on requests too and everything. i'll try to post more <3

AN: this didn't turn out exactly how the request asked, BUT PLS I had to add a little smut, sue me.

also, there are some audios at the end

Mizu.

The shine in her eyes.

The way her eyelashes curl.

The curve of her chin.

The way her cheeks move when she talks.

You loved everything about your girlfriend.

But she was just too grumpy sometimes, and when you gave her complimetns, she just got a little red and told you to stop. And you didn't have the confidence in you to try after that. But she was so pretty! You had to get your thoughts out somehow. So what can a girl do? Draw.

You secretly took candid pictures of Mizu, and used them as references. You drew her in every possible pose and with a lot of facial expressions.

You loved drawing her smile especially. Mizu never liked her own smile, she says it's dumb looking and it doesn't fit her, but it can't be further from the truth. Her smile was beautiful.

You could never show her the drawings tho, you'd die of embarassement. One day tho, Mizu was at your place, watching a movie on your bed.

But you were foolish enough to go to the bathroom, and leave her alone with your stuff for five whole minutes. Mizu stopped the movie when you left, because in her opinion, watching your reactions is more interesting than the movie, so watching alone is unnecessary.

But she quickly got bored, so she stood up and started looking around your room again, looking at the little trinkets you have everywhere, and the posters she had seen a hundred times before. Then she found something she hasn't seen before. It was a small, slim sketchbook.

On the cover, there were old receipts from your dates, candy wrappers you ate while watching her matches and a kiss mark in the middle you made with her favorite shade of lipstick.

You usually show her everything you draw, so having a sketchbook she never seen before was unusual. Maybe it's new? Her fingers glide along the back of the sketchbook before she decides to pry and open it.

On the first page, there was a whole page, colored marker drawing of...Mizu. She was a wide smile in the drawing, her hair let down, falling down her back and into her face, her eyes narrowed as he skin creased from how wide her smile was. It was obvious you spent a lot of time on it. But Mizu's eyes quickly dart to the little notes scattered all over the page.

"My girl's smile is too pretty"

"Her nose wrinkles up when she laughs."

"Her eyes shine so much."

"So beautiful. "

And many more. It had her blushing. She covered her mouth as she got more and more flustered the more notes she read. It was like you noticed everything and loved everything. It was so strange. You complimented even the slightest, most basic stuff. Did you count her pores too or something?

But damn...

It made all of her body flutter. She flipped the page, and the drawing just didn't stop, and so didn't the notes. It kind of overwhelmed Mizu. Slowly, the drawings got more and more...clotheless.

At first, it was her collarbones.

"Her skin is so smooth, and the bones cast such a pretty shadow."

Then her back.

"A canvas better than any other."

Then her full chest.

"Pillows of the gods."

Then her...

The clack of the door was heard and you stepped inside, looking mortified.

"Oh you uhm...saw everything?" *You murmur, looking at the sketchbook in your girlfriend's hand.

"Yeah." Mizu answers without hesitation, and puts it down, taking a step towards you. Her heart thumped loud in her chest, as if fire started burning her whole body. She just witnessed the most flattering thing ever but also...it made her want you so much. "You like drawing me?"

"Yes...sorry, I know it's pretty cringe, I...what are you doing?" Your eyes widen as Mizu's fingers grab the hem of her shirt and start lifting it.

"You never drew a full body picture. I'm giving you an opportunity. " She says casually, but her ears burn in a deep shade of red as she tosses it to the side, her sports bra following suit.

"I...but, are you sure? I swear you don't have to, it was just a silly hobby of mine, I..."

"Get your drawing stuff out." Mizu orders, pushing down her sweats, leaving herself only in boxers. You just nod quickly and clumsily gather your things, your face looking rather similar to a tomato.

Mizu throws away her boxers, finally releasing all of her skin and she is sculped like a goddess.

She has a toned body, muscles showing from under her skin, abs almost winking at you and her perky tits being decorated with her hard ripples were just the cherry on top. She has a pretty happy trail leading to her bush, that is guarding her lips.

You swallow thickly as she settles in the chair, looking directly on the bed where you sat down to draw. She spreads her legs, leaning back and her elbows resting on the armrests of the chair.

She looks better than ever.

You can't look into her eyes as you start sketching her body, hands slightly shaking.

"I can't read your notes now, so say them out loud." She breaks the silence, her voice low and breathy. "Tell me what you think."

You bite on the inside of your cheek, glancing up and meeting her gaze.

"Her uhm...her body is...something to die for." You murmur as your hand moves the pencil quickly.

Mizu's eyes never leave you. Her chest starts moving up and down visibly, and she feels her insides twitch everything you glance either at her tits or her pussy.

"Is your view okay?" She asks and before you could answer, she reaches down, spreading her lips, showing you her light peach colored skin that is now slowly dripping out slick.

Your mouth almost falls open, and you quickly start sketching a close up of her entrance on the side of the page, almost not even looking at the paper, but only at Mizu's skin.

"You're enjoying this, huh?" Mizu murmurs, her own lips forming a small smile. "Perv."

"...sorry." You murmur, and look down.

"Want an even better view?" She asks, spreading her legs even more. "Come here then."

You jump at the opportunity and kneel between her legs. You just stare at her pretty pussy as it pumps out her juices. But before you know, Mizu's legs wrap around your head, pulling you right into her. You don't hesitate, and start slurping up her slick right away, your tongue eager to please.

"You taste so good...the best." You murmur into her as groans of pleasure start leaving her lips.

"Yeah? Fuck...keep going...tell me more." She breathes out heavily, sliding deeper into the chair's back. "My pussy is the best, isn't it? You love it..."

"Yes, the best..." You whimper out pathetically, eyes staring up at her as you start slightly making out with her hole, your nose pushing into her bush. "So good, so pretty..."

"Oh fuck...just like that, mhm..." She moans as her hips start moving up and down, rubbing herself against your face...and you love it. You'd rather suffocate right now than stop. You moan into her, pleasing her giving you equally as much pleasure.

"Please...please cum...please give it to me, please please..." You chant between thrust of your tongue.

"Yeah...fuck...want me to come? You want it so bad, huh?" Mizu moans, her hand slowly finding her own breast and starts playing with her nipple. You nod eagerly as you suck on her clit, making her squeeze her thighs so hard around your head, they almost crushed your skull.

After a couple of moment, you felt her soft and warm release drip down your throat, and you happily swallowed all of it. "Fuuuck...yeah, drink it...all, okay? Mhm...yeah you love it..."

Mizu relished in the powertrip as her legs slowly let you go, and watched your head emerge from her pussy, soaked but with dreamy eyes.

"Next time, when you wanna draw me," She whispers, grabbing your chin. "Just ask."

[idyllicidols]

The Bridesmaid.

Weddings are always a drag. You're no one special, not part of the wedding party, just someone who is in attendance out of obligation. You take your seat near the back of the venue, out of the limelight, keeping to yourself.

"The maid of honor's a milf… I'd take the one next to her back if I had a few drinks in me…Damn! that one's really pretty…Holy fuck! Look at the pair of tits on the one at the end."

It becomes clear that the back of the venue is where the peanut gallery likes to hang out–whispering their thoughts on each member of the bride's wedding party to each other. You know you shouldn't eavesdrop, but there's no avoiding hearing their conversation.

"Bro what do you think?" One of them nudges you with their elbow.

"I can't argue with you guys, especially those tits at the end."

They were right. The shapely fit of the light pink bridesmaid dress helped to perfectly accentuate the deep cleavage of the bridesmaid at the end. Beyond the tits are milky white legs, and a perfectly shaped face. If you didn't know any better, you would think she was an artificial intelligence representation of the perfect woman.

Your eyes stay glued on to her throughout the whole ceremony, the bride and groom barely registering on your radar. The whole wedding ends in a blur and the host announces it's time for cocktail hour.

"Hey." Of all the people to be in front of you in line for drinks, it's the same person you've been staring at. Her voice is full of confidence, instantly grabbing your attention.

"Hey. The wedding was beautiful and I must say you looked great up there."

"Please, like you even paid attention to the wedding. I could practically feel your eyes all over me." She boldly states, having no sense of shyness and a naughty glint in her eyes.

"Maybe for a bit. It wasn't like I was staring or anything. Once those other guys pointed you out, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse for myself." You try to match her, not showing any kind of weakness.

"You were practically staring daggers at me the whole time." Karina strongly retorts. "...But wait, what were they saying about me?"

Karina is hot and she knows it. Perfectly compliant to build her ego, without missing a beat, your eyes wander downwards and lock on to her bountiful, deep cleavage.

She squeezes her arms together emphasizing her cleavage even more, "Well I can't say I blame them. Seems like you also agree." She laughs seeing your glazed over expression and grabs her drink. "Well I'll see you around." She brushes her hand against yours, turning around one last time to give a naughty look.

While weddings weren't your thing, an open bar and an open dance floor is a hard thing to deny. While there are plenty of beautiful women around, you couldn't help but occasionally steal glances towards Karina. The longer the night goes on, the more flirtatious she becomes. The same men that were ogling her earlier all end up ensnared in her trap.

One by one, she dances with each of them. Seemingly innocent actions only entangle them deeper in her net: an innocuous brush of her breasts against their arms, leaning back while they stare down her dress giving them a better view. Their eyes speak silent words, each of them mentally undressing her, imagining how perky her tits are without the confines of clothing, how soft they would feel in their hands.

You aren't spared of her attacks, she leans her back into your chest, rubbing her ass against your crotch while giving you a clear view down her dress. There's only so much a man can take before he's about to fall off the cliff.

Perhaps it's the open bar opening up inhibitions. Perhaps it's the loving atmosphere of a wedding. Most likely it's the most gorgeous woman you've ever met grinding her ass against your cock.

"Wanna get out of here?" Your voice full of authority.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me all night. Lead the way." Her fingers intertwine with yours, following you out of the ballroom and towards the elevators.

All bets are off the second the door to your hotel room clicks. Karina jumps into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist, kissing at you wildly while you stumble your way to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and Karina is all business–quickly straddling your waist, and making a show out of slowly slipping off her dress.

The heat radiating off her body makes you want to do nothing more than to plunge right in, but Karina has a different idea.

"How many guys do you think imagined seeing me like this?" Karina seductively says, teasingly inching the fabric of her dress down. Slowly, but surely, the pink fabric slides down lower and lower, exposing more and more until she gets right above her nipples.

She guides one of your hands to cup her right tit, you can't help but give it a squeeze–the feeling in your hand unbelievable: firm, yet somehow pillowy soft at the same time. Karina doesn't need words to tell you she's enjoying it, letting out a light moan while she makes circular motions of her hips. Her strip tease continues, lowering her dress just enough so that her nipples are exposed.

Unable to wait any longer, you suddenly yank down the rest of the top, setting free her two giant mounds. Your palms continue to knead and massage the most perfect set of tits you've ever laid eyes upon.

"Mmm baby do my tits feel good in your hands? Get a good feel of them. How many of those other guys wished they were in your position right now?"

While you could've spent the rest of your life a happy man just fondling Karina, there's a burning desire in your loins. The wet, warm sensation you feel on your lap tells you that Karina has the same animalistic needs.

The time for foreplay is already well past expired, two bodies needing nothing more than to be intertwined. Karina is quick to undo your belt and buttons, your cock immediately springing into a ready position. She takes your hardness into her hand and aligns it with her dripping core. The bridesmaid dress is perfectly designed where all she needs to do is move her panties to the side.

"Aren't you a lucky boy? So many men fucking me with their eyes and here you are about to fuck me with your cock."

You can feel Karina's tight pussy gripping your cock as your tip finally penetrates her silky walls. You can't help but moan with pleasure as her giant tits jiggle with every bounce. She looks so sexy, her eyes closed in pleasure as she rides you.

"Oh my god," you gasp, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she moves.

"Yes?" she purrs, her eyes opening slightly, giggling at her own joke.

"You feel so good."

She smiles and starts to move faster, her hips rocking back and forth.

"I love the way you feel," she whispers, almost talking to herself.

Karina moans and her nails dig into your chest, her body quivering with pleasure. You can feel her body tensing as she gets closer and closer. Your hips start to move, eventually syncing your thrusts with her riding, driving her closer to the brink.

Suddenly, she cries out, her body arching as she cums. You can feel her muscles clenching around you as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. You keep thrusting, pushing her further and further until she’s screaming and shaking with pleasure.

Finally, she collapses against you, her body trembling and her breathing ragged. You hold her close, your hands stroking her back as she slowly comes back to reality.

“That was amazing,” she gasps, her voice still shaky.

You smile and kiss her forehead, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Karina smiles and snuggles closer, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. You kiss her softly, your hands still exploring her body as you slowly rock her back and forth.

Karina starts to stir up again, expertly bouncing her hips while you still hold her in embrace. Her sensitivity is still at an all time high, every reentry into her tight pussy sending signal after signal of endorphins throughout her body.

You can feel her body responding to your touch as she continues to ride you. She moans and gasps as she holds in her impending orgasm for as long as she can– each time pushing her further than before.

Finally, she cries out, her body shuddering as she cums again. You thrust upwards, your own pleasure building as you feel her orgasm around you.

You can't help but moan louder as she increases the pace, her tight pussy milking you for all you're worth. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer and you grab onto her hips to slow down her movements.

"'FUCK! I'm almost there" you groan, your voice low and ragged.

Karina suddenly stops bouncing, but smiles and leans further into your embrace. The amazing squishiness of her giant tits are pressed against your chest while she shoves her tongue into your mouth. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss, gives you a wink, then starts kissing at your neck.

"Do you want me to go lower?"

A nod and the same naughty look appears–licking and sucking on your nipples as your cock is still surrounded in the warm embrace of her tight pussy.

"Lower?"

This time she doesn't even wait for an answer, your cock finally leaving her warmth, but her mouth kissing all across your abs while her hands continue to play with your nipples.

Her big round eyes lock on to yours before she gives the final question. "Lower?"

You can feel Karina's breath on your skin as she moves closer. She's laying between your legs, her hands running up and down your thighs as she looks up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I'm going to give you the best blowjob you've ever had," she says, her voice low and sultry.

You can feel the anticipation building up inside you as she moves closer. She takes you in her hand and starts to stroke you. You can feel her lips pressing against your skin and her tongue tracing circles around your shaft.

You let out a moan as her mouth takes you in. She's gentle and slow, her lips and tongue working together to bring you pleasure.

"Do you like that?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You can only nod in response, your eyes closed in pleasure as her mouth moves up and down your shaft–though that wasn't the only thing in use. She has perfect control over her body and knows how to use part of her to drive a man wild. Her tits intentionally press against your thighs, her hands gently massaging your balls, her tongue swirling around with every opportunity, and her cheeks working overtime with tight suction.

She starts to move faster, her entire body working in perfect harmony. You can feel your orgasm building up inside you as she takes you deeper and deeper into her mouth.

"I'm gonna make you cum," she whispers, her voice full of desire.

You can only nod in response as she takes you even deeper. You're actually proud of yourself for how long you've held on. From the time of the reception to now, you've been in a perpetual state of horniness just seeing Karina living her life.

Karina is true to her words, the amount of pleasure she provides is unbearable. For a split second, the idea of pulling out crosses your mind, but you succumb to the fact that she won't allow you to finish anywhere besides her mouth. You let go of all inhibitions and shoot out an unbelievable amount of thick hot jizz directly into her mouth–for a moment you gasp and have to fight back the urge to pass out.

Karina pulls away, a satisfied smirk on her face. She looks up at you with a twinkle in her eye and licks her lips.

When you finally come back to reality, Karina is looking at you lovingly with those big round eyes.

"That was amazing," she whispers, her voice husky with satisfaction. "But we should head back in time for dinner."

"Already? I was hoping we could go for round two."

"Don't be silly babe. I'm part of the wedding party! Besides, we have the rest of our lives to do that. Isn't that why you married me?"

[pedrithink]

10 times ✩ kylian mbappé

summary: the ten times kylian realized he loves you.

notes: just love and cuteness

It all started gradually and the first time Kylian noticed was when you were having breakfast. The way a mustache formed because of the hot chocolate and your murmur of happiness when you ate another piece of the yummy croissant he brought you. It all seemed like a dream to him.

"Take off that mustache, clumsy." Kylian strokes his thumb and ruffles the mustache that has formed under your nose, and you laugh softly.

"Even then I have more mustache than you." Your provocative way of saying it and the way you pressed your finger to his cheek.

God, he has never seen you more beautiful than now.

Kylian knew that your French wasn't one of the best, but he liked the way you tried so hard and found it extremely cute when you got the pronunciations wrong.

"So, how do I speak 'you are beautiful' in French?" You rest your pen on the tip of your lips and look at him with a questioning expression.

"Why do you want to know? Do you want to tell that to some other man?" Kylian asks a little jealous. Just the thought of you telling it to another guy makes him feel angry.

You nudge his waist. "Just tell me."

Against your will, Kylian takes the pen from your hand and writes the sentence, then teaches you how to pronounce it. "Vous êtes beau."

He smiles weakly and is distracted at how you were practicing for a few minutes how to pronounce it correctly, but soon turns his attention to you when you nudge him.

"Kylian, vous êtes beau." Your playful smile and the way your hand rests on his, he can only fall more and more in love with you.

Once again, he gets lost in the immensity of your eyes.

Kylian loves children, that's not new to you or to anyone else in the world. So every time he sees you playing with his nephews, his heart melts. He can't hide his passionate expression and the smiles that form when he hears your laughter.

"Auntie, you are the princess and uncle Kyky is the prince." Lana takes Kylian's hand and makes you two hold hands.

Isayah huffs and protests. "But I want to be auntie's prince."

"But you can't because Uncle Kyky is her boyfriend."

When she said this, you and Kylian opened your mouths a little shocked. But, neither of you fixed what she said. You just put your head down as your cheeks got flushed and Kylian could only stare at you. He could only focus on how beautiful you looked all embarrassed like that.

It wasn't your first time watching Kylian play, but it was the first time he dedicated a goal to you. When Kylian scored the second goal of the night, he made sure to blow a kiss in your and his mother's direction.

The way your cheeks turned pink and you couldn't contain your big smile, he loved to see you like that. He loves to see the way the little things he does make you so happy.

"The second goal...you dedicated it to me, right?" You were already inside the car and with your hopeful eyes and the way you bit your lower lip in an embarrassed way, Kylian could only smile.

"Of course it was." He slips his arms around your waist to tuck you into his chest. "Who else would it be for?"

"I just wanted to make sure." You agree as you lift your gaze to face Kylian.

If only you knew what your gaze means to him, what every little glance of yours does to his heart.

Kylian was sitting on the edge of your bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom wearing the dress he bought you. Kylian has always been very affectionate and loves to buy you gifts and see you wearing clothes he thinks match your style.

His favorite part is this. When you tell him to sit down and then he is presented with the beautiful scene of you wearing something he bought for you, just for you.

When you come out of the bathroom, he can't even hide his reaction. The smile grows on his face and doesn't go away. "How do I look?" You twist your body to make a little drama and let a slight smile grow on your lips when you see Kylian's precious reaction.

"You look…" He stands up and walks over to you, takes your hands in his and makes sure to kiss every knuckle. "You look magnificent, I swear I've never seen you as beautiful as you are now."

Kylian's heart is racing to the extreme and he feels a mad urge to steal you away for himself.

You had taken a nap after having spent the entire afternoon watching a new series on Netflix, Kylian woke up first and simply couldn't help but be charmed by your sleeping appearance. The little pout and the light from the window reflected on your face. He ran his finger along your cheek and let out a wry smile when you blinked your eyes hard, he regretted it in the same instant when he saw that you woke up.

"Hey, sleepy head. Sorry I woke you up." Kylian murmurs as he runs his hand through your hair.

You only mutter a weak "No problem" and snuggle closer into his arms, leaning your head against his chest. Kylian swallows dryly, trying to control his heartbeat, and leaves a light kiss on your head.

He doesn't know how much longer he can control himself like this. He needs to get you to himself as soon as possible.

you:

kyky: what's that?

you: i don't know, but i've been laughing for half an hour.

kyky: is this the kind of content you see on the internet? funny videos about me?

you: videos about you in general

kyky: why?

you: because you are my favorite person

It was your birthday and Kylian is always the first to give you a gift since you met, this is already practically a law within your friendship. He is so eager to see your reaction because this year's was a different and too much more special gift.

When you opened it and saw the necklace with your initial, your eyes started to tear up. You had a necklace that you had worn since you were a child, but it broke when you picked something up and the pendant stuck to your wool sweater. Kylian saw how sad you were and immediately ordered an identical one for you.

"I…Kyky…" You practically jump on top of him and can't contain your emotion. Tears stream down your face and Kylian's hand caresses your back. "Thank you so much, you have no idea how important this is to me."

Kylian pulls you away from the hug and reaches out for you to give the necklace to him. "Let me put it on you."

When you turn on your back and Kylian fits the necklace around your neck, you can only crack a huge smile at him. Your eyes covered with tears of happiness and your smile, none of which can be bought. He would do anything to have you smiling like that every day.

He realized that he said it out loud when you replied, raising your hands to caress his cheeks. "Just stay by my side, forever. Only you can make me smile like this."

And that was the time he held back the most from kissing you.

After the defeat in the World Cup final, Kylian was devastated and just wanted to be alone. He didn't want to see anyone, not even you. He just wanted to lock himself in his room and cry until the pain stopped. But, you are you. And even with Kylian giving you every possible sign that he wants to be alone, you will never leave him alone.

"Please, just go away and leave me alone." Kylian leans his head against the bedroom door, he is sitting on the floor and you are on the other side of the door. He has locked himself in hoping you will go away, but you are still there. You won't leave him alone.

"I won't leave you alone, Kylian. It's no use." You sigh. "I'll stay here, even if we have to be in silence." Kylian can only close his eyes and sigh, you are so stubborn. "When you're better and need someone just to hold you, I'll be here."

About two and a half hours passed that you two were leaning against the door, Kylian crying silently and you biting your fingernail with such anxiety. You never saw him like this and he didn't want you to see him like this.

When you hear the sound of the key turning, you stand up. Kylian's red-eyed figure appears and you can only reach out and hug him with all the strength you have inside.

"It's going to be okay." You whisper in his ear and feel it as he dives into your embrace.

Ah, Kylian wanted to make you feel everything you make him feel. How good you make him feel and how dependent he is on you, even on your silence.

After the World Cup, everything changed between you.

If Kylian was already in love before, now he is 10 times more in love and can only get into his head the possibility that you feel the same way. And he tried to forget this, to forget these feelings. But now he is here, in front of your apartment. Ready to expose everything he has been feeling during these last months.

He just wants to tell you how much he loves you.

You are confused by the way Kylian is behaving. You have never seen him so nervous, not even before such an important match. "Ky? Is everything okay? I was worried after you sent about twenty messages saying you needed to talk." You let out a nervous laugh and make room for him to come in your apartment.

Kylian runs his hand over his face a couple or three times and sighs anxiously, that was enough for you to take his hands and look into his eyes. "Hey, calm down. No matter what it is, we'll figure it out." Kylian does nothing, he just stares at you, totally mesmerized by you. "We always work it out."

"I love you."

He lets go, just like that, without a pause and without thinking about the consequences of the world around him. He simply loves you.

You stare at him in astonishment and try to control your breath, which gets short with every word he says.

"I love you and you are the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me." He lets out a nervous laugh and runs a hand over his head. "I wish I could describe in words how great it is to be with you, but words alone would not be able to describe what I am feeling. That's why I try to demonstrate this happiness with attitudes. And I don't hide my feelings from you, you only have to look into my eyes to realize how happy I am to have you. You awakened what I didn't feel anymore and I try to think about how my life was before you and I can't even remember. That's because I love you…" Kylian wipes his sweaty hands on his own jeans and takes a deep breath as he sees your expression soften and a tiny smile grow. "Yeah, I love you." He smiles, totally clumsy and embarrassed. He can't even look at you properly, but everything changes when you run your hands over his face and kiss him. You kiss him in the most sincere and pure way, and he understands.

Kylian understands that the feelings are totally reciprocal.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Love You, Always.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the years you've loved each other, and the ones you've loved him alone.

Warnings: Devlon. Mentions of domestic abuse.

A/N: inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, except in this version he doesn't come back.

Masterlist

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You place the two cups of tea in front of your father and his guest. A female so beautiful, with high cheek bones and a black lips to match her gown. She doesn't have wings and her cloths look far more elegant and richer from the clothes females in illyria were. She's surely from other place.

Your father, Lord Devlon, had instructed you to be on your best behavior today. You knew the rules of what do to when any guest comes, father had taught you even since you could remember living. Just stand back with your head down and be alert for when he requires anything from you.

And you do exactly that. Knowing that not doing would have painful punishments.

The female laughs at whatever your father had said before you came, and your father puts a hand on hers with a disgusting smirk. The lady glaces at your bowed head with an unsure expression you see in your peripheral, to which he responds,"Do not worry about her, she won't understand anything." His fingers swipping at her hand and you almost gag.

"Won't understand, my ass." You want to say but keep quiet and try to block out the teasing smirks they share. You're almost twenty one, of course you understand those revolting looks your shameless father gives females.

-☆-

You get out of the house as soon as your father gives you permission too. Gods, you hate that male, but have to endure his presence if you want to live at a little better life then the other females in your camp.

You ran and go to one place you know will bring you joy. The trianing grounds arent allowed for females to go to, so you stay far enough that no body would notice you seeing them. You look for the only person that makes you happy and doesn't treat you like worthless dolls. You see Azriel, fighting with his brothers, and let go of the breath you didn't know you were holding.

He looks so good.

The evening light making his bare chest glow. His wings flared in the show of dominance as he spars with Cassian. Rhysand watching them from the ground as Azriel expertly defeats Cassian and walks back to Rhysand with a small smile.

Your mind flashes with mammories of the last time you two were together. When father had given you particular blow that left you a line on blood down your cheek for not doing a chore. Azriel had so delicately wiped off the dried blood and took care of you, creeping into your room at night when everyone else lay alseep except you two. He kissed you all the way down your face and neck, showing you the care and love you deserve. Whispering promises of revenge for every scar on your body while loving you with everything he has.

Giggles sound behind you, breaking you moment of daydreaming. And you turn around, startled but settle down your panic when you see a group of three females talking and giggling while staring at the males training.

Thank the Mother, they aren't the very males your all staring at or father would be made. As you think about your better luck, fate seems to say 'fuck you' because just as your getting up, one of the females sees and you both freeze. The female, Nyra you remember, turns and calls the others attention, and your groan at yourself mentally.

Those females are definitely going to tell your father about your whereabouts, exposing there's too in the process which will get all of you in trouble. You were friends when you little but after growing up, when they realized who your father is and just how much power he holds in this camp, they became distent. You've had a lot of friends but never a true one.

You nod at them awkwardly and glance at Azriel once more before turning and leaving.

-☆-

You toss and turn on your so called bed in your room. Your thoughts repeatedly drift off to Nyra and her friends catching you red handed, drooling over training males. You kept glancing at your door, hoping for her or one of her friends to walk through and declare your secret.

What you hadn't excepted, however, was the flaping sound of wings filling the midnight silence. You sit up at the same time azriel lands never your window, having squeezed in his wings due to the size of your small room.

You stand and hug him, he returns the embrace in an instant, breathing in your sweet scent that drives him insane. When he tries to pull back, your hands tighten around him, shaking your head in a silent plea to hold on longer and he complies.

"Are you alright, my love?" His voice so soft and comforting as he whispers. You shake your head and remain as you are. Speaking softly, the words you say to each other, promising yourselves to the other, forever.

"I love you, Az."

"And I love you. Always."

-☆-

Even after five hundred years, you still can't seem to move on. Your thoughts always drifting back to the only person you saw your future with.

After Rhysand became high lord, the years when the trio weren't there were dreadful. Your father only seemed to have became worse. When Rhys got the news of you being promised to an illyrian from the camp, he came to get you. Knowing the history between Azriel and you, he took you to Valeris and introduced you to the inner circle. You finally met the love of your life after being separated for over a decade.

However, it did not go as you thought it would.

Azriel seemed to distanced himself from you, at first you thought maybe it was the fact that you were meeting after so long but as time went, you realized it wasn't his nerves that were the problem but his heart. You started to realize where his feelings seemed to be directed. You realized just how little he felt for you now and how much more for Mor.

You have to admit though, you love Mor. She is beautiful, confident and just amazing. What hurts, is knowing that now he does too.

You always thought the two of you were in it for life, that he was the person you're supposed to spend your life with but you were wrong. You were just kids after all. You were new to the world, exploring and trying new things. You were never supposed to be together, passion having blurred the boundaries and consequences of your actions.

Now, even after five hundred years. Azriel moved on, with different females to bed and Mor or Elain to give his heart too. But you? You're still twenty one, still living in that camp, under your fearful father's roof, still completly and utterly in love with the shadowsinger.

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[ch3rriiii-bunn]

How good are they at doing hair?

Got excited to make this one♡♡♡

Warnings: black reader (will mention different hair textures/styles), humor

Akaza

- is decent with doing hair since in his human life he had experience to comb out hair and put it up in a bun (even tho he dosnt remember who he did it for). Doing your 4c hair wasn't too much a challenge when he just followed what you said to do

- you'd have to remind akaza that it doesn't hurt everytime he combs your hair out. He thinks because he's pulling your hair hard it's gonna hurt you and it was sweet but funny

- "can I twist your hair again? It's quick and easy. it also looks good on you" and "can I take them out for you the next day?"

- twists on you is akazas favorite thing on you and he enjoys doing it

- praises praises, so much praising from akaza when your hair is done

- he threatened a male human to make a bonnet just for you and brought it to you as a gift, blushing like crazy

Douma

- pretty good at it and enjoys doing your hair

- he had to learn over time that he needed to ask before touching your hair and not just play with your curls at random

- douma's favorite thing was wash days. He'd literally get in the shower with you to wash your hair, his favorite part was brushing your wet hair and watching your curls spring back up

- when you explained to douma what a Bonnet was and how you needed one he crafted random hats until he got it right and gave it to you as a gift

- "no y/n don't put your hair in a bun! I love seeing your hair out" and "I'm bored. Can I play with your curls? Pretty please!"

- gets sad when you don't do your hair without him

Kokushibo

- thinks he's good at doing your hair but is actually not

- you'd think kokushibo doesn't pay attention to you when your doing your hair but he actually is

- kokushibo rarely expresses his like for something but whenever your looking at yourself in the mirror he'll stare at you in aw even tho it looks creepy

- "it's quite... beautiful" and "i love it"

- when kokushibo held a afro pick in his hand for the frist time he started using it like a regular comb. Even when you showed him how to use it he kept doing it the same way but in different angles thinking he's doing it right

- as for a bonnet he though putting silk pillowcase would be better for you and less trouble of you did have a bonnet and happen to lose it

Tamayo

- a perfectionist at doing your hair

- definitely the best demon to do your hair, like look at hers!

- Tamayo loves to do flat twists on your hair and put it in a bun at the back just like hers

- "y/n it's time for me to do your hair" and "look, i brought another hair pin to use. I think it would look lovely on you"

- like douma tamayo would feel down if you did your hair instead of her. In general your someone tamayo likes to look after

- Tamayo makes your bonnets, head wraps and any moisturizer your hair would need

Nakime

- not very good but is open to try

- you're the one actually doing nakimes hair all the time by brushing it out and styling it the way she likes it

- nakime would sit down and watch you take sections of your hair and brushing it out using the moisturizer from the aloe plant

- your afro is big and thick. Enough to cover your eyes similar to nakime which is what her more motivated to help you do your hair

- "like this? I need to hear your corrections on what I have to do y/n" and "we both have our hair covering out eyes... Interesting"

- even though nakime is emotionless around the other demons she's shown to be affectionate with you since she manged to get matching bonnets with you

Sekido

- his hair is wavy, your hair is wavy of course he's good but you'd have to beg him to do your hair of you were tired

- absolutely hates when you move your head when he's brushing your hair. If you complained about your tender scalp he'll literally call you names

- "you should be greatul I'm taking time out my day to do this. Say thank you" and "if you keep moving and changing your mind on a hair style I'm going to cut your hair off"

- gets you a bonnet to match the clothes you wear at night. Anything for his precious human even tho he won't tell you that

Aizetsu

- decent at doing your hair but will get sad if he can't help you since you had tighter curls (4b)

- normal black girl things is when your hair just isn't working with you those days so when that day came and you were frustrated Aizetsu offered to help but the brush snapped leaving you in tears and Aizetsu began to cry to because your upset and he felt bad

- you're the one who gets it together and calms the both of you down so when wash your hair Aizetsu puts it up in two buns

"Its like im doing a dolls hair. A pretty doll" And would just have a soft smile on his face which is a rare site to see

- as for a bonnet he went to one of his brothers to get you one since interacting with other humans ment killing right after and he just wasn't in the mood to do so

Karaku

- do not let this man near your hair

- he got a comb stuck in your hair one time and he laughed at you slugging to get it out for 20 minutes. He even tempted you to just cut it out but you got the comb out, the crazy part is you just asked him to make a part on the back of your head

- "y/n do those mini buns again! It looks super cute on you (bantu knots)" and "you can get stuff stuck in my hair and I can try to take it out ahah!"

- That's supposed "bonnet" Karaku brought back for u was just a shower cap. A win is a win

Urogi

- a bully. Like Karaku do not let this man near your locs

- almost gave you a heart attack when you were retwisting your locs and he said he'd pull one out but didn't, laughing crazy at the fear on your face

- "you're taking to longggg C'mon take a break from retwisting and have some fun with me!" And "you're locs are gorgeous on you"

- when he heard "protect your hair" because you needed a bonnet he used some of his feathers that came off easily to make a hat instead of a bonnet. It was a long argument that night leading you to get your own bonnet

Muzan

- Doesn't do your hair. He could but just doesn't

- tells you where to get the stuff you need for your hair because he won't get it

- "you're hair in corn rows is beautiful on you. Wear your hair like that for the next upper moon meeting"

- like kokushibo he just has all your pillows have silk pillowcase on them

- when muzan is in a good mood, he'll bring back accessories to put in your hair

[blippymilk]

Clay Headcannons (Romantic)

Genre: Fluff, Romantic

Warnings: None

A/N: I love Clay so much so I genuinely enjoyed writing this 🤗

✩ The best boyfriend you could ever ask for hands down

✩There’s quite litteraly no one like Clay

✩ You fell first but he definitely fell harder

✩ Words of affirmation + physical touch kinda guy

✩ In the beginning of your relationship he’s not very touchy especially not in public

✩ But once he gets attached it’s over 🫡

✩ Always has to be touching you in some way

✩ Hand holding, waist hugs, neck kisses, and anything else you can think of

✩ Even when he’s working in his office he doesn’t mind you sitting on his lap as he works

✩ You had to be the one who could convince this man that it’s ok to be serious AND fun sometimes

“But what if people think I’m too silly again? My fun boy Clay days are over.” :((

“But there’s also nothing wrong with having fun from time to time too sweetie.”

✩ Wasn’t very open to expressing his emotions before he met you

✩ You had to let him know that it was ok to rant to you (and he’s still adjusting but he’s way better at it now)

✩ Please join his sad book club ok >:((

✩ Best dancing partner. EVER.

✩ If you’re at a party with Clay and there’s a dance floor

✩ Everybody getting left in the dust. Including you after a period of time 😭

✩ This man has past experiences with his boy band so he never lost his moves. If you can push him out of his comfort zone for the night, he’s gonna end up the center of attention.

✩ Clay’s not no mean troll, but he will got to war for his s/o and that’s a fact

✩ He can be very extra without realizing it, especially with the little details (bcs that’s just who Clay is :D)

✩ Don’t let him catch you singing any of his Brozone songs (especially his part). He will be all over you for the rest of the day, teasing you and kissing every inch of your face until no area goes untouched

✩ Wanna get Clay flustered? Tell him he has a beautiful voice and you love to hear him sing

✩ Will 100% start humming to you before bed

✩ You’re the reason Clay started to let up and not focus on working 24/7, 24 hours a week. And Viva noticed that (and she thanked you for helping him relax bcs she’s tired of seeing him stress)

✩ But also please thank him for working so hard to become a licensed CPA. He loves the sound of his job and loves to hear you say it too.

✩ Definitely the big spoon when it’s time to get comfy at night. Being so much taller than you, he likes to consider himself “the one in control”

✩ Loves when you play in and take care of his hair like your own.

✩ Loves a good relaxing “spa” (self care) day. A day where you two, and ONLY you two get to sit back and treat yourselves. Facials, hair care, bubble bath, back massages, etc.

✩ Viva made you a matching sweater romper and you put it on for Clay. Let’s just say that was the best decision ever.

✩ Just like you do for him, he appreciates everything you do. Like no matter what it is, he supports you and he’ll be there every step of the way.

✩ You never have to worry a day in your life about Clay cheating, or finding “someone better”

✩ One time during whatever the situation was that had you guys dancing, you spun away from Clay and a new girl quickly replaced you for him to dip her. And he let her go as soon as she even slightly tilted.

“Clay, why did you drop her?!”

“She was kinda close to me and I don’t know how you or I feel about that to be honest.”

✩ (dw he apologized after)

✩ Clay can be really serious. Or really, really, really, reallyyy, corny. 😐

“Babe, did you know my favorite word is universe? Because it starts with U-N-I.”

“Are you wifi? Because I’m tryna hook up.”

“I heard kissing is a love language. Tryna start a conversation?”

“Are you my grades as a kid? Cause your bad AF.”

“Oh my gosh- CLAY-!”

✩ Overall Clay is an amazingly sweet well rounded man

✩ Never lose him