#they love each other. neither will ever admit it

[lvnleah]

ik your requests are closed but do you think you’ll ever do a part 2 to movie nights where beth and leah finally find out lia and r are together

Secret’s out | Lia Wälti

your wish is my command 🤭 actually had so much fun writing this so thank you!

find part one here! :)

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a few months later…

It had been a few months since you and Leah had confessed your feelings for one another after a team movie night and since then things had been perfect. Lia ended up staying that night and the next morning you talked about how you wanted to do things.

You both agreed to take things slow and not to rush anything, neither of you were going anywhere and there wasn’t any need to rush. The following weeks after that night were spent mostly together and mostly sneaking around.

You wanted to be with Lia all the time and whenever you got the chance, you took it. Although you will admit, sneaking around without your friends finding out was proving harder than you thought it would be.

Beth and Leah had their suspicions, they always had, but their suspicions only grew even more when they saw the way you and Lia looked at each other. When in private, a part of you was always touching Lia but when you were around your friends you couldn’t and it was hard to keep them away.

“So,” Beth began as you finished getting changed in the changing room. “How's everything going with you and Wally?”

You shot her a warning look, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “Beth, nothing is going on.”

Leah joined in, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you packed up your bag. “Come on, we’re just looking out for you. We want to know all the juicy details.”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re taking things slow.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun! We just want to know all the gossip!”

“We just want you to be happy,” Leah added, “It’s good to see you both smiling more. We love you guys and you’re cute together!”

Before you could respond, Lia appeared, looking between the three of you with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Your heart raced as you scrambled for a response, but Leah beat you to it. “Just checking up on our girl here,” she said, giving you a pat on the back.

Lia didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “Well, we’ve got a meeting with Jonas in ten. Better not keep him waiting.”

The meeting with Jonas went smoothly, but the atmosphere in the changing room lingered in the back of your mind. It was getting harder to keep up the secret, especially when Beth and Leah were as observant as ever. You and Lia exchanged a knowing glance as the team gathered, her eyes holding a mixture of amusement and concern.

After training, you and Lia left together, using the excuse of grabbing dinner to avoid any more prying questions from your friends. You could practically feel their eyes on you as you walked out, Beth’s whisper to Leah not going unnoticed. You sighed as you got into the car, resting your head back against the seat.

“They’re onto us,” you muttered, glancing at Lia.

She chuckled, starting the engine. “They’ve been onto us since the beginning. We’re just making it worse by trying to keep this a secret.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, the truth in them settling in your chest. “You’re right. Maybe it’s time we stopped sneaking around.”

Lia reached over, her hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s talk about it tonight, yeah? We’ll figure out how to tell them. There’s no rush to tell them, love.”

You decided to have dinner at your favourite little Italian place, a cosy, tucked-away spot that had quickly become your go-to whenever you wanted a quiet evening together. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the soft hum of conversations mingling with the clinking of glasses.

You and Lia had grabbed a corner table, candlelight flickering between you as you sipped your wine. The waiter had just taken your order, leaving you both in a comfortable silence. Lia was playing with the edge of her napkin, her eyes focused on the soft glow of the candlelight. There was a subtle tension in the air, a lingering question that neither of you had fully addressed yet.

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing against hers. “What are you thinking about, darling?”

She glanced up at you, “I’m thinking that this is getting harder,” she admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “Hiding us, I mean. I don’t like keeping this from everyone.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. The past few months had been amazing—stolen moments, whispers between you, and the kind of intimacy that made your heart swell with every touch. But it was also exhausting, constantly looking over your shoulder, worried that someone might catch on before you were ready to share.

“I know,” you said, your thumb gently tracing circles on her hand. “It’s been tough, and I don’t want to hide anymore either. But I’ve just been scared, you know? What if it changes things with the team?”

Lia’s eyes softened, and she turned her hand over to link her fingers with yours. “I get it. But I think… I think they’d be happy for us. Look at Beth and Leah—they’ve been suspicious for weeks. I think they’d just be relieved to finally know the truth.”

You laughed softly, remembering the countless times Beth and Leah had tried to pry details out of you, their teasing relentless. “Yeah, I guess they would. I just didn’t want to rush things between us.”

Lia squeezed your hand, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “We’re not rushing. We’re taking our time like we said we would. But keeping this a secret is starting to feel like more work than it’s worth.”

You bit your lip, thinking it over. She was right, of course. The sneaking around, the whispered goodbyes, the way you had to consciously keep your distance in public—it was all becoming too much. You wanted to be able to hold her hand without worrying about who might be watching, to share the happiness you’d found with the people who mattered to you.

“What if we just tell them?” you suggested, your heart beating a little faster at the thought. “The team, I mean. We can keep it between us for now, but at least we won’t have to pretend around them.”

Lia nodded. “You think we should?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do. They’re our friends, and they’ll support us. And if they don’t, well… that’s their problem, not ours.”

She smiled a slow, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Okay,” she said, her voice filled with hope. “Let’s do it. But we should probably break it to Beth and Leah first.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Definitely. They’ll probably say they knew all along.”

“Of course they will,” Lia agreed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I think they’ll be happy for us.”

The waiter returned with your food, setting down the plates in front of you. You thanked her, but your attention was still on Lia. You both dug into your meals, the conversation flowing easily as you talked about everything and nothing. The tension from earlier was replaced with a sense of shared excitement and anticipation.

“So, how do you think we should tell them?” you asked, twirling your fork around a mouthful of pasta. “Just drop it casually in conversation?”

Lia grinned, “Maybe we should make it a bit more dramatic. Show up to the next team dinner holding hands or something.”

You laughed, the image of your teammates’ stunned faces flashing in your mind. “That would definitely get their attention.”

“Or,” Lia continued, “we could just kiss in front of them. That would shut Beth up for once.”

You laughed, almost choking on your food. “I think that might be a bit much excitement for the poor girl.”

Lia shrugged, her smile softening. “Whatever we do, I just want it to be honest. I’m tired of hiding.”

You reached across the table again, your fingers brushing against hers. “Me too,” you said softly. “I just want to be with you.”

Her eyes softened, and she turned her hand to lace her fingers with yours. “You are with me,” she murmured, her voice filled with warmth. “And soon, everyone else will know it too.”

You sat there for a moment, just holding her hand, the rest of the world fading away. It was a small, simple gesture, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Dinner stretched on, filled with laughter and quiet, meaningful glances. By the time you left the restaurant, your hands were still intertwined, this time with no worry.

A few weeks later, the team had just wrapped up a particularly gruelling training session, the hot summer sun bearing down on you as you made your way back to the locker room. You and Lia had settled into a comfortable rhythm, balancing your relationship and your football. But the more time you spent together, the harder it was to keep your feelings from spilling over in front of your teammates.

Beth and Leah were relentless in their teasing, and it was only a matter of time before everyone else caught on. You could sense their curiosity growing, the way they’d glance between you and Lia whenever you were together, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls.

After a quick shower, you were just pulling on your training top when Beth teased you again, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Lia lately,” she remarked, her tone light but probing.

You shrugged, trying to keep your voice casual. “We’re friends, Beth. It’s not a big deal.”

“Friends who leave together after every practice and arrive together for every match?” Leah chimed in, leaning against the lockers with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Lia entered the room with a few bottles of cold water from the canteen.

“What are we talking about?” she asked, looking directly at you.

“Beth and Leah are convinced we’re more than friends,” you said, shooting them a playful glare. “And they won’t drop it.”

Lia’s eyes met yours, a silent conversation passing between you. Then, with a soft smile, she turned to the girls. “What if we are?”

Beth’s jaw dropped, and Leah let out a delighted gasp. “Wait, what?” Leah sputtered, looking between you two with wide eyes.

You bit back a laugh, stepping closer to Lia. “We wanted to tell you all, but we didn’t know how.”

Beth recovered first, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So all those times we asked and you said nothing was going on…?”

“We were taking things slow,” Lia said, reaching out to take your hand. “We didn’t want to make it a big deal until we were sure.”

Leah’s eyes softened, a warm smile spreading across her face. “You guys are adorable, you know that?”

Beth huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but you could see the happiness in her eyes. “I can’t believe you kept this from us for so long! We’re your friends, we want to be there for you.”

You squeezed Lia’s hand, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “We know, and we’re sorry. We just needed some time to figure things out.”

Leah stepped forward, wrapping you both in a tight hug. “We’re so happy for you,” she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You two deserve to be happy together.”

Beth joined in, her arms wrapping around the three of you. “I guess we’ll forgive you, but only if you promise not to keep any more secrets.”

You and Lia exchanged a look over their shoulders, smiling as you both nodded. “No more secrets,” you promised, relief and joy filling your chest. “Although we are thinking about getting a puppy.”

“A puppy!” Beth smiled, “Do it! A little friend for Myle!”

Later, as you and Lia walked out of the training ground hand in hand, you felt lighter than you had in months. There were still challenges ahead, still things to figure out, but you knew you could face them together.

[desi2go]

Chaotic duo

pairing: Seungmin x reader

warning: best friends to lovers trope! fluff

Author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGMIN <3

Seungmin and you had been best friends for as long as anyone could remember. From the moment you met in kindergarten, your bond had been instant—an unbreakable alliance fueled by a shared love of adventure, mischief, and an inability to sit still. Where one went, the other followed, and together, you became legends in your small town.

The first time you met was in the sandbox. Seungmin, with wild curls and a mischievous glint in his eyes, was building an elaborate castle. You, fiery and bold, with a pixie cut you insisted on because "long hair gets in the way of running," stomped right through it. Seungmin’s jaw dropped, and you had smiled, wide and unapologetic.

“You’re supposed to guard your castle, dummy,” you said with a big smirk.

Seungmin burst out laughing. “Wanna help me build a new one?”

From that moment, you two were inseparable—and utterly impossible to control.

As kids, you were the kind who put frogs in the teacher’s desk or replaced your school principal’s office chair with a whoopee cushion. Your greatest feat was sneaking into the local grocery store and rearranging all the items on the shelves so cereal was in the freezer and ice cream in the dry goods aisle. The townspeople shook their heads, half exasperated, half entertained, because no one couldn hate Seungmin and you. Together, you were the heart and soul of the town’s chaotic charm.

You weren’t malicious, just... menaces. You lit up every room you entered, your laughter infectious, and even when you were grounded for weeks, you still found ways to send secret notes to each other, plotting your next adventure.

Years passed, and the pranks only grew bolder. In middle school, you stole the mascot costume and replaced the halftime cheer with a ridiculous dance routine you made up on the spot. In high school, you snuck into prom, even though neither of you was on the planning committee, and switched the formal playlist with a collection of ridiculous 90s pop songs. The seniors were mortified.

Yet, even as you two caused chaos together, there was something else between you. Something neither of you wanted to admit.

Your friendship was so natural, so easy, that the idea of anything more felt terrifying. You were always the one who would punch Seungmin’s arm when he teased you, and Seungmin was the one who’d toss an arm around your shoulders whenever you were feeling down, pulling you into his side like you belonged there. You were perfect as you were—or at least that’s what you kept telling yourselfs.

But over time, things changed.

By the time you hit your early twenties, the teasing started to take on a different tone. Seungmin would get quiet, almost protective, whenever you went on dates with guys, though he’d never admit it. And you would grow jealous, prickly, every time Seungmin talked about a girl who caught his eye. You told yourselves it was nothing—just the awkwardness of growing up.

It started small.

You spent more time just talking. Late nights on your’s porch, staring at the stars, laughing about old memories, and dreaming about what came next. Seungmin would catch himself staring at you, wondering when your eyes had started to light up his world in a way no prank ever could. You found yourself lingering a little longer when he hugged you, the warmth of him becoming more than just comfort—it was something you craved.

Then came The Party.

The whole town had been buzzing for weeks about it—a summer bash at the lake, a chance for everyone to relax, drink, and dance. Seungmin and you, naturally, had come up with a scheme to make it memorable. You had spent the better part of a week planning how to replace the DJ’s playlist with an embarrassing collection of cheesy love songs and make all the floats in the lake mysteriously disappear.

But this time, something felt different. As you stood together by the bonfire, you leaning against his shoulder, your laughter bright against the crackling firelight, Seungmin felt the weight of all those unspoken words pressing against his chest.

Your’s hair were a mess, your cheeks flushed from the thrill of the night, and he thought you had never looked more beautiful.

Without thinking, he said, “You know, we’re gonna have to top that next year.”

You looked over at him, your grin wide. “Oh, I’ve already got ideas.”

But your voice was softer than usual. The banter didn’t have its usual bite. You turned to him fully, your eyes searching his.

You swallowed hard. The air between you was charged, full of unspoken feelings. You felt like you were standing on the edge of something enormous, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once. “Seungmin... I think—”

“I love you.”

The words came out before he could stop them. Seungmin's eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said. You froze, your breath catching.

“I... I mean, I—” He stammered nervously, trying to take it back, but it was too late. The truth was out there, hanging between you like a storm cloud ready to burst.

You blinked, then did what you always did when faced with something huge: you laughed. But it wasn’t your usual laugh. It was softer, more vulnerable. “Took you long enough.”

Seungmin’s heart stopped beating all at once. “What?”

You grinned, reaching out to poke his arm like you always did. “I’ve loved you since the day I stomped on your sandcastle, idiot.”

He blinked, then broke into a wide, disbelieving smile. “Well, this changes things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Then, before either of you could second-guess it, Seungmin leaned in and kissed you. It wasn’t perfect. It was messy and a little too eager, but it was you.

Full of energy, passion, and chaos. The kind of kiss that said, this is what we’ve been waiting for all along.

From that day forward, you were still the same old Seungmin and you. Still a menace to the town, still plotting your next big prank. But now, you did it all with an extra spark between you—the kind of spark that turned chaos into love.

[writeriguess]

Hey hey! Love your works :) Can I get a Katsuki B x fem reader fic where they like each other but he is stubborn and refuses to admit it? Reader is like "We're more than friends and you know it".

Maybe something happens where Katsuki almost loses her and he finally confesses. First kiss included please! Thanks!

You’ve always been good at reading people, but Bakugou Katsuki? He’s a whole different challenge.

It’s been months now, this tension hanging between the two of you. Ever since you joined the agency, working alongside Katsuki, the air between you has been thick, almost unbearable at times. There’s an unspoken connection, like a live wire sparking between you, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

You try your best to be patient, to let him work through whatever stubbornness is holding him back, but lately, the friction has been building.

Another patrol together. Another day with him snapping at you over every little thing. You swear, if he blames you for one more trivial mistake, you’re going to lose it. And you do.

“Watch your damn back next time! You’re supposed to be a hero, not a liability!” Katsuki growls at you, his eyes narrowed into that familiar, fiery glare. The two of you just finished up a mission — a robbery gone south — and he’s pissed that things didn’t go smoothly. But of course, it’s your fault.

You whip around to face him, blood rushing in your ears. “Are you serious right now? You act like I wasn’t the one who saved your ass back there!” Your voice rises, and you feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

“I didn’t need your damn help,” he snaps back, stepping closer, towering over you with that broad, muscular frame of his. The air between you crackles, a dangerous charge that neither of you can ignore. “I had it under control.”

“Like hell you did!” You take a step forward, closing the gap between you, refusing to back down. You’re not afraid of him. “You were outnumbered, and you know it. I’m not your enemy, Katsuki. Stop treating me like one.”

His jaw tightens, the tendons in his neck flexing as he clenches his fists, palms sizzling faintly with restrained explosions. “I don’t need you to baby me. I’m not weak.”

“And I’m not a damn sidekick!” you shout, frustration boiling over. “I’m your partner. We’re supposed to be in this together, but you—” You stop yourself, realizing how close you are, chest heaving, eyes locked on his. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, his presence overwhelming.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes flicker for a moment, something unreadable passing through them, but then it’s gone, replaced with that stubborn scowl you know all too well. He grits his teeth, lips curling in a sneer. “We’re not partners.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a second, you feel the sting of hurt settle deep in your chest. But then anger flares hotter than ever.

“Bullshit,” you hiss, stepping even closer, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. “We’re more than friends and you know it. Don’t pretend like you don’t feel it, too.”

Katsuki freezes. His eyes widen, just a fraction, but you catch it. The way his breath hitches, the way his muscles tense, as if you just struck a nerve. He doesn’t say anything, but his silence speaks volumes.

You shake your head, feeling the frustration, the hurt, the longing all swirling together into a chaotic storm inside you. “You’re so damn stubborn,” you whisper, voice trembling. “You push me away like this, like you’re scared of what’s between us.”

His eyes narrow again, but this time, they’re not filled with anger. There’s something else there — something raw, something vulnerable, something you’ve never seen from him before.

“I don’t—” he starts, but his voice falters.

“You don’t what?” you challenge, heart pounding in your chest. “You don’t care? You don’t feel anything?”

He looks away, jaw clenched so tightly you can hear his teeth grinding together. His fists are still balled, knuckles white, but he doesn’t say anything.

The silence is deafening.

“Fine,” you mutter, turning on your heel. “If you won’t admit it, then I’m done. I can’t keep doing this.”

You walk away, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Your heart aches, your mind races, and all you want is to get as far away from him as possible. But before you can take more than a few steps, there’s a loud crash — an explosion.

It happens so fast.

Debris rains down from the building above, the one you’d just helped secure. One of the walls crumbles, massive chunks of concrete and steel plummeting toward you. You barely have time to react before the ground shakes beneath you, your body instinctively moving to shield yourself, but it’s too late.

A blinding pain shoots through your leg as you’re pinned under the rubble. The impact knocks the wind out of you, and your vision blurs. Dust fills the air, and the sounds of crumbling brick and twisted metal are deafening.

“Katsuki…” you breathe, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

And then he’s there.

Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, you feel a blast of heat, the sound of explosions ripping through the air as Bakugou demolishes the debris around you with precision. His hands grip the remains of the wall, shoving them aside with sheer force, his movements frantic and desperate.

“Don’t move,” he orders, his voice low and strained. There’s a wild look in his eyes, panic flashing through them as he kneels beside you, his hands trembling as he assesses the damage.

You wince, pain radiating through your body, but his presence is grounding. You’ve never seen him like this before — not Katsuki Bakugou, the unshakable, unstoppable hero. This is different. This is raw.

“I’m… I’m okay,” you manage to whisper, but even you don’t believe the words. You feel the blood seeping from your leg, the sharp pain making your vision swim.

“Shut up,” he snaps, but his voice cracks, betraying the fear he’s trying to hide. “Just— Just hold on. You’re not— I’m not gonna let you die.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, exhaustion and pain weighing you down. But you feel his hands on you, gentle in a way you didn’t think was possible. You hear the strain in his voice, the way his breath hitches as he fights to keep it together.

“Katsuki…” you murmur, your fingers weakly reaching for his hand. You’re scared. More scared than you’ve ever been. But he’s here. That’s all that matters.

“Damn it,” he curses under his breath, his hand gripping yours tightly, almost painfully. “You’re not leaving me. You hear me?”

You try to speak, to reassure him, but your voice falters. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, and you feel your consciousness slipping.

And then, you hear it.

“I— I can’t lose you.” His voice is raw, broken, filled with a vulnerability you’ve never heard before. “I— Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I— I love you, okay? I love you, and I should’ve said it sooner, but I—”

His words blur in your fading mind, but you catch enough. Your heart clenches, and despite the pain, you feel a warmth bloom inside you.

“I love you, too…” you whisper, just before everything goes dark.

When you finally wake, the first thing you feel is warmth. Soft, comforting warmth, like sunlight after a storm. Your body is heavy, but the pain is dulled, replaced by a numbness that you recognize as medical treatment.

Slowly, you blink your eyes open, adjusting to the dim light of the hospital room. And then, you see him.

Katsuki is sitting beside you, slumped forward in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest, his head hanging low. He looks exhausted, his hair disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. But he’s here.

“Katsuki…” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

His head snaps up instantly, eyes wide as he looks at you. Relief floods his features, followed quickly by something else — something softer, more tender.

“Idiot,” he mutters, standing up and moving to your bedside. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You smile weakly, still groggy. “You were scared?”

“Tch.” He avoids your gaze, his face turning red. “Shut up.”

But then, before you can say anything else, his hand reaches for yours, and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that’s fierce and gentle all at once. It’s everything — all the tension, all the frustration, all the unspoken feelings between you finally breaking free.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs, his voice low, but there’s no hesitation now. No stubbornness. “I love you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “I know.”

And for the first time, there’s no more pretending, no more pushing each other away. Just you, and him, and the truth that’s been there all along.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[pedroshotwifey]

hi wifey , may i please have some old jackson joel fluff (his long hair drives me crazy and I need him so bad)

Okay babe omg I so got you!! Ty for sending me something to play with! 😋

May not be the best, but it’s something :) I present to you:

Giving Jackson!Joel a Bath After a Long Day (G)

W/C: 604

(Complete reader insert other than mentioned hair)

Alright so imagine Joel coming home from a long day of patrol—longer than usual thanks to a small horde of clickers he and his group found that morning. Because it’s so abnormally late, he’s exhausted and expecting to just rinse off in the shower and join you in bed, hoping to God that you aren’t going to be upset with him for having to stay out longer….

What he doesn’t know is that you’re still up, waiting patiently for the bathtub to fill up to the perfect point with warm water because you know he’ll be returning soon.

He doesn’t know that, as he carefully kicks his work boots off by the door, you’re lighting a gallery of candles and spreading them carefully around the tub and on the bathroom counter. 

He has no idea that, as he slowly climbs the stairs, his muscles aching and straining with each painful step, you’re shutting the water off and turning out the light to let the candles cast a warm and comfortable glow. 

He’s confused for a moment when he walks into your bedroom to find your shared bed empty—scared that you really may be mad. But then he catches a soft whiff of your vanilla candles. He takes short steps into the bathroom and just about melts in the doorway when he takes in the sight of you sitting on a short stool by the tub, surrounded by rose petals and candles.

You have one of his flannels on, one of your favorites to wear when you’re missing him. The sleeves are rolled up, your hair is out of your face, a soft smile plays on your lips. You’ve been waiting for him. 

“Hey, baby,” you invite him in. “Let me help you relax?” 

If Joel was any more tired, he’d probably cry. Luckily, he’s awake enough to instead take the few steps to you, cup your cheeks, and lean down to kiss your forehead. His lips are gentle as his grip, like you’re a delicate flower all too easy to maim. 

You both bask in comfortable silence as you help Joel undress and lower himself into the tub. You’ve even put bubbles in, which he lets out a light chuckle about. His eyes fall shut as the water surrounds him, relieving his protesting muscles.

You’re gentle as you scrub him down with a washcloth and your favorite soap, worshiping each beautiful part of him with equal admiration. You know he likes the smell of it, as much as he hates to admit it. 

Kind and loving words are passed through eye contact, neither of you wanting to break the trance you’ve created quite yet. You know each other intimately enough to understand the meaning behind every glance and stare. 

Whereas he would usually try to brush you off, he lets you comb through the tangles in his long, graying curls. You, again, use your shampoo and conditioner, and he says nothing against it. He breathes in the scent deeply, relaxing further into your touch. 

When you’re done, you plant a soft kiss to his lips, and when you pull away, you find a vulnerability in Joel’s eyes that tells you more than words ever could. He doesn’t have to use his voice to make you understand that you’re the first to care for him like this—the first to want to care for him like this. 

He refuses to dress after drying off, instead carrying you to bed and cuddling up with you so that his body can hold yours. Your heartbeats dance together in the darkness, the gentle patter settling you both to sleep.

[ravs6709]

hey okay as my one orv mutual idk why but even though i don’t really read it i see a lot of stuff abt it and apparently joonghyuk waited 1864 lifetimes for dokja which is like???? what the fuck???? elaborate????? they’re canon gay???

OH BOY. THEM. slapping this under a cut idk how long I'm gonna make this also going go to try and address this as spoiler-less as possible but also stuff you said is a spoiler ANYWAY

To answer your main question though: no theyre not canon gay

That being said there isn't any romance period and the ship teasing they get is a Thing. Not as much later on but still very a Thing. And as orv continues on those two get closer esp on joonghyuk's end and you can see the absolute faith joonghyuk has in dokja, and the determination to save him is so evident. (personally I think they're both bi and in a polycule with han sooyoung <3)

Addressing that other part: ooooooooooooooo thinking about then always has my brain spinning because what. So spoiler alert joonghyuk isn't actually in his third regression he's in his 1864th regression (won't elaborate more on that). And essentially half the reasons he started his regressions was so that he could meet dokja (and is told that it'd take 1864 regressions to do so)

(The other half being a journey to find out his purpose in life because his life was set for him and he wanted to know answers but fandom usually reduces it to only him being gay for dokja like yeah yeah we all know that but joonghyuk's identity crisis is very important to me)

SO YEAH. Joonghyuk DID in fact wait 1864 lifetimes for dokja which is def gay of him to do so (oh my god trust me reading the novel had me sobbing at them because what the fuck them and the entire epilogue was sooooooo. They're so needlessly dramatic I hate them (affectionate).

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Arriving just after everybody calmed down about the new surge of M/M dungeon meshi ships trying to explain that Laios and Kabru would be kind of cute like with my hands up. Like guys its ok. You know me. You know my heart. Theres something there

[yngai]

what i like about ada's report, & i'll get into it more eventually, is that despite it being ada explaining the plot (& her motivations) to you directly, it presents an interesting relationship between ada, a known liar & manipulator, & the audience. while she withholds information from other characters & skirts about on mystery throughout RE4 & separate ways, there is one person to whom she doesn't lie, to whom she does tell the truth, at least a part of it, & that is you, the player. it is a very neat narrative device that wouldn't work as well in a different medium

[inupibaldspot]

Back off,kid.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : (Teen)Gojo is jealous over (kid) Fushiguro having a crush on you.

Fushiguro Megumi always wonders if he made the right choice every time a white-haired sunglass wearing teenager walks into the house.

The tall older boy would grin as his hands form a salute. “You doing good Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He was as useful as the indoor plants. Fushiguro thought.

Gojo wasn’t much good at cooking and neither helped with cleaning, probably because of his rich background—but he did spoil them with lots of food and pocket money but he wouldn’t ever admit that.

As much as Fushiguro would love to throw insults at Gojo, he holds back his tongue each time; Tsumiki would send sharp glare and nag him if he did.

The first friend he brought to visit them was a girl; it was after Gojo went missing for a while and when Tsumiki inquired about it ,he simply said one of his dear friend went cray-cray as his finger twirls at the temple of his head.

The girl had short, brown hair with a distinct smell of cigarette; her name was Shoko Ieiri. She wore an impressed look when she entered the house as she looked over to Gojo. “Heh— The place is pretty neat,Gojo.”

Fushiguro looked to Gojo who placed some groceries on the counter top with a proud smile on his face. “I know right!” Gojo replies.

The young boy frowns. “It’s Tsumiki who keeps the place clean.” Shoko gives Gojo a stare before she cackles.

A week later when Tsumiki was still in school with club activities, another person makes an appearance ,you. He could faintly hear conversations between you and Gojo through the front door on how you’d actually wanted to visit them sooner but was bombarded with mission before it swings open.

The first thing Fushiguro noticed was how Gojo seemed to make you enter first— other times he barges in without a care for Shoko— his hands near your back with a slight space, without touching it. Why was Gojo being nice?

You blink at the dark haired boy. “Fushiguro Megumi, right?” Gojo peers from behind as you smile. “Did you eat?”

“Not yet. Waiting for Tsumiki to get home.” Fushiguro thinks you’re the first person who is kind of decent.

You nod take plastic bag from Gojo’s hands and lift up it, your smile widen. “I’ll make you some good stuff then.”

“I want to eat your cooking too,y/n.” Gojo chirps in only to be ignored. And to your credit, it was actually good. He didn’t remember the last time he had something this good home made.

After that, your visits seemed to increase which Fushiguro Megumi did not mind, in fact he was getting fond of your presence. You helped with food, cleaning which lessened the load on Tsumiki plus you also helped him with his studies.

“You seemed to get it now, Megumi.” Poor kid, blushes a bit hearing your compliment. “Practice this set of questions and I think you’ll do pretty well on your tests.” You smile.

Fushiguro nods as he does as you say, face still heated up. He looks up at you, who was reading a book. Your hair slightly in your face, lips slightly parted with eyes focused. You were extremely beautiful and as much as he wouldn’t admit it , he had a big fat kid crush on you.

“Megumi-chan.” Suddenly he is shoved to the side as a body makes way in between you and him. It was Gojo who sat in between. “Move over~ This seat is mine.”

The boy frowns and so did you, not liking Gojo’s action. “Don’t interrupt the kid, who is studying.” Kid? Ouch…You huff as your move over, despite you complaining you make space for him, focus back on your book.

Fushiguro watched as Gojo leans closer to you, almost resting his head on your neck as he looked over to your book; after a while eyes slowly moved over to you, his expression softens.

Gojo smiles as he tugs a piece of hair behind your hair, to which you don’t react as if it was normal. Thee older man then turns his head to Fushiguro—oops,he got caught staring.

The white haired boy then grins, a condescending one in fact as he mouths out the following words.

‘y/n-is-mine.” Fushiguro huffs. ‘back-off.”

·:*¨༺ Part 2༻¨*:·

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[lokissweater]

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊

“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

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[mareestoermers]

i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.

1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.

2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.

3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).

4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.

5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.

just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.

in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.

even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.

in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.

[sunrizef1]

Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

And my, my love had been frozen. Deep blue, but you painted me golden.

Warnings: 18+, mdni! there will be smut in the future chapters. enemies to lovers, 'she fell first, he fell harder' kind of trope, allusions to unrequited love, mentions of death, injuries, allusions to self hatred, mentions of bullying, this story is set post s4, Vecna and the upside down are gone. slow burn. ‘hate’ sex. fwb kinda thing but they’re ‘enemies’. mean!reader, mean!Steve, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve have never seen eye to eye, and it never changed, not even when you were pulled into a world of monsters and risked your life to save him. But tension had always been between you both, something that neither of you ever wanted to admit -- but how much longer can you take it when the pull between you gets stronger and stronger each second you spend by each others side?

♡

Prologue ⭐︎

Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room

Chapter two ⭐︎ I want you to notice, when I’m not around

Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Chapter five ⭐︎'Cause you know it could never be

Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Chapter nine ⭐︎ And I'll show you if you let me, girl

Chapter ten ⭐︎ Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Chapter eleven ⭐︎ Yeah, I know it seems surprising when there’s lipstick still on the glass

Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Chapter thirteen ⭐︎ For a moment, I was heaven struck

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side

Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around?

Chapter sixteen ⭐︎ Hold me, love me, touch me, honey

Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there's no you.

Chapter eighteen ⭐︎ Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

Chapter nineteen ⭐︎ For you, I would ruin myself, a million little times

Chapter twenty ⭐︎ Tell me it's love, tell me it's real

Chapter twenty one ⭐︎ Please, I've been on my knees, change the prophecy

Chapter twenty two ⭐︎ Let the world around us just fall apart

Chapter twenty three ⭐︎ And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me

Chapter twenty four ⭐︎ I once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden

Chapter twenty five ⭐︎ Who could stay? You could stay

The Epilogue ⭐︎

[highvern]

Whatever You Like

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sex tape, oral sex, dacryphilia, spitting, anal play, facial, praise kink, manhandling, unprotected sex/creampie, dom/brat dynamics (sir kink), sex toys, double penetration, spanking/clit slapping, dad cheol

Length: ~ 6.1k

Note: any complaints can be directed to @bitchlessdino for thinking cheol would be the type to film an amateur sex tape. ceremonial mention of @gyuswhore for beta reading and encouraging this tom foolery. also @wooahaeproductions and @millennial-fangirl t agging @wonustars @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for more fun

summary: Your husband takes his birthday more seriously than anyone you know. When he's scheduled for a business trip across the country, forcing you two to celebrate apart for the first time in your entire relationship, you decide to get creative with his gifts this year. Can be read as a stand alone or a continuation of Freak Like Me!

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“I hate it,” your husband announces before collapsing on top of you.

Seungcheol is always pouting about something. He’s dramatic by nature, a classic whiner. He does it for attention. Your attention. 

 It is a business trip out of the country for two weeks. He hates it because his birthday is in the middle of it. 

Since the dawn of your relationship, birthdays are spent naked in bed for hours followed by fancy dinners and gifts (despite your objection he’s all you need) and more domestic love making that left both of you sore for days. 

This will be the first birthday in eight years you’ll spend apart. And with how serious Seungcheol takes his birthday, it’s more devastating than the six months you spent long distance after college.

“I know, baby,” you coo. “We can celebrate when you get home though. Go to that steakhouse downtown you like.”

“But I want to spend it with you. I always spend it with you.” He shivers as you rake a hand through his hair, nails scratching just right to make him weak.

“One birthday isn’t gonna kill you. Promise.”

“You don’t know that. People die of broken hearts all the time.”

“Oh my god,” you snort. “I’m not leaving you, you’re going away for two weeks. On a promotion trip you begged for.”

“What if I became a trophy husband?”

“You’re too bougie for that. We’d end up homeless.”

All of his complaints prove he’s unaware of your scheming. The second he shared the news, you set to work.

The guest list for a surprise barbecue two days before he flies out is confirmed; custom cufflinks he’d been planning to buy himself tucked away under extra sheets in the guest room; white lingerie that’ll remind him of your wedding night already in the mail, set to arrive while he’s gone to enjoy upon return. 

But there’s one thing for him to take on his trip. A consolation prize for  missing each other on  one of the most important days of the year (tied with your birthday and just above your anniversary).

You’ve taken videos and pictures of yourself in varying states of ruin for Seungcheol’s enjoyment. He’s done the same. Flashes of his fist covered in cum in the dim light of his room back when you didn’t cohabitate. Videos of him jerking off, rambling about all the things he’d do to you.

He’s only ever admitted it once. A fantasy he keeps tucked away, bubbling just under the surface. It’d been almost two years ago when drunkenness threw inhibitions to the wind (along with the way his cock stretched your throat) that Seungcheol, without much thought to the matter, admitted how badly he wanted to film it. Film you, mouth full of him, cum spilling across your lips, eyes watering. 

Neither of you mentioned it again afterwards but the idea stayed firmly planted in your subconscious. 

And what better occasion to make your on screen debut than your husband’s birthday?

“I do have one idea…to make up for you being gone.” You say, smoothing down the back of his shirt. “For both of us, really.”

“And what is that Mrs. Choi?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” he huffs with amusement. “I can pencil that in.”

“I wasn’t done yet.” You force him off your chest into a cushion, taking over the prime real estate of his lap. “I want to make a sex tape.”

“What?”

“So you can watch it whenever you miss me during your trip.”

“Baby, you don’t have too—”

“I want to.” You nod. “Honestly more for me than you but I thought it’d be a nice birthday present.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm.”

“Shit, okay.” He takes a breath, calming down the need growing in his chest. “Tonight?”

“No, I’ve gotta get some stuff.” You kiss his neck just to tease him, chest to chest with a grind back into his crotch because he’s your husband and you can.

His chin tips back to give you space, fingers twitching at your waist thinking of all the possibilities. “What kind of stuff are we talking about?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”

“But it’s for my birthday,” he argues.

“Perfect time for surprises then, isn’t it?” You hop off him and beeline for the shower, his footsteps barely a second behind.

Based on aesthetics alone, you’d pass for one of those amatuer porn couples; you wrapped in Seungcheol’s favorite pair of panties sans bra, him half naked with sweatpants low on his waist. A lamp casts the room in a dull warm glow that you hope will soften the unforgiving quality of the camera.

Seungcheol is meticulous. If he had it his way then the professional grade camera he got for Christmas would be catching every minute detail but you draw the line at feeling too much like a porn star. Instead it's a cheap tripod you ordered online hastily and his phone.

Watching him focus so intently gets you hot; the flex of muscles from his fingers to the bare skin of his chest, hair falling in his face as he balances it on the chair dragged in from the dining room. Your pulse races while you model on the bed for him; testing every angle and position he directs you into with heat in your gaze.

“We really should have done this sooner. Holy shit,” he mumbles.

“Looks good?” you ask over your shoulder, ass high in the air with a painful arch.

He grabs one of your cheeks with force, fingers digging into the curve and spreading you bare. “You look amazing.”

“Stop, you'll make me blush.” Empty words because you bend up at the waist, chest on show for later viewing.

“My wife asked me to film a porno for my birthday. I’ll say whatever I want, thank you very much.” He palms whatever he can reach, tweaking your nipples until they ache into peaks.

“Speaking of,” you sigh. “There’s a few more surprises, birthday boy.’

“Really?” 

Popping up, you plant a lazy kiss to his mouth, licking lewd intentions across his teeth. “In the top drawer of the dresser.”

Living alone means all the fun toys are kept in easy reach. The drawer is dedicated space for vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, paddles and whatever other random goodies collected over the years. So to have something not in your collection already makes him rush over to find out exactly what you’ve been so secretive about the past few days.

Seungcheol pulls out the silver bag, approaching the bed once again before separating the tissue paper to find what's inside.

“Are you serious?” he asks. 

Leather handcuffs dangle from his hold. Red with silver hardware. The kind with clips so he can tie you up anyway he wants. And maybe later, anyway you want to tie him up too.

“I am,” you smile, kissing across his chest. “There’s more in there.”

He digs back in, easily finding the slip of red silk.

“Babe…” he breaths. 

You kiss away his next words, soft and indulgent; a gross amount of tongue that comes with years of partnership. Both of you get lost in it, hands roaming, warming from the inside out. Seungcheol sucks on that spot below your jaw, a handful of ass threatening to distract you from the original purpose of tonight.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whisper pathetically only for him to hear, already forgetting the camera a few feet away.

Nostrils flaring, he watches as you mouth down his front. “You think I want to tie you up and blindfold you?” He’s cocky now; plain on his face how much the idea turns him on.

You slip to your knees on the floor, palm molded to his cock already plumping at the idea. “I think you wanna show me who is in charge.” 

Seungcheol sizes up your offer. The way you look up at him with an innocent expression like you aren’t mouthing over the tented crotch of his pants. “Then take my cock out like a good girl.”

You force his sweats down with eager glee as Seungcheol starts recording above. You're in your element between his thighs, a place you excel with minimal direction. With the ideas you’ve planted in his head, you won’t have to do much to get him off.

Gentle kisses along his thighs make his stomach dip. “Can I use my mouth?”

“Not yet.” Seungcheol shakes. “You’ll taste it plenty later. Use your hand.”

You rub his cock with a spit slick grip, mouth watering for the familiar flavor of his spend promised later. The tip of his cock shines in the low light. It’s quiet except for the dirty wet squelch and his already labored breath. You could get off to this alone. A hand between your thighs as you jerk him to completion until he paints your chest white. You suck your lip between your teeth at the thought.

“Look here.” He’s holding his phone near his chin, recording the crazed gleam in your eye. The blindfold rests in his other hand, forcing it into your empty one. “Put it on.”

An easy command leaving you riddled with anticipation. Without vision, there's no telling what his next move is. Giving Seungcheol the power to do whatever he pleases. Every time you’ve given him power, he’s made it worth your while and then some. Now won’t be different. He cups your face, thumb spreading your lips until you suck with a moan. And as quick as it came, the heat is gone.

It’s replaced by the prod of his cock against your cheek. He slaps it against your chin, a hot wet trail against the seam of your lips you eagerly lick away once he moves again. His dick rubs across your face lazily, degrading and dirty. Just how you like it.

You kiss whatever comes in reach; the vein webbing the underside, the head, his balls. Anything he’ll give you, you’ll take.

“Open your mouth.” Seungcheol taps it against your chin once again. He doesn’t let you suck him in immediately, giving you an inch before moving away only to repeat the motion over again. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do without hesitation, messy already. He forces the tip into the flat of it. A flood of his taste serving as a precursor until he gives you more.

You like to show off under normal circumstances and with a camera in the mix, you’re edged to the side of debauchery. Seungcheol’s cock is heavy on your tongue; an easy slide to the back of your throat with little resistance. You stroke him into your mouth, tongue lashing against the slit in the head. His thighs tense under your nails with a good choke before you pull off.

“Looks good?” You ask, hand replacing your mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” Seungcheol guides you back down with a hand on the crown of your head. With new leverage comes more thrusts but you take each in stride. Precum mixes with spit, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and down your chin. “God, so good to my cock. Feel so good like this.”

You make it sloppy, throat tightening in a loud gag. He hisses your name when you manage to take another inch from his praise. His weight sinks into your throat; holding there until you grow dizzy from lack of air. 

“Gonna cum,” he hisses. “Where do you want it?”

“On my face, come on my face.” You gasp for a quick breath before taking him again. 

He’s close, bucking into your mouth with renewed vigor from something so dirty. “Want me to cover your pretty face in my cum?”

The vibrations of your moan make his hips kick again. You bottom out with a choke, wet eyes hidden beneath silk. Another swallow, more tongue against the slit until he gives a shaky jerk.

“F-fuck, okay.” Seungcheol pulls himself away, fisting his length. “Stick out your tongue again. Shit, shit.”

He goes for show rather than convenience, painting your chin and cheeks in messy streaks. At least your eyes are safe from any errant drips. You suck him back in, tongue collecting whatever stuck to the head.

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos, slapping his cock against your tongue with the last few drips.

Years together means Seungcheol knows your game. In the distraction of getting him off, you snuck a hand between your legs, rutting against it pathetically. He let you get away with it far too long not to notice and now you’ll pay the price.

He kicks your thighs apart, leaving you without a hint of relief. A rough grip at the back of your neck pulls you away without warning. “You touch yourself when I tell you to. Got that?” 

Even with cum cooling on your skin, you still want more. “Sorry, sir.” 

A harsh exhale is all the warning you get before you're pulled to your feet. It doesn’t last long. Bent over the mattress, you're prone to a swift slap against the back of your thigh. Predictable. You know exactly what that word does to him; how it drives him up the wall. The last time you called him ‘sir’ he made you come so many times you couldn’t walk the next day.

“You’re gonna be,” he threatens with another swat before wrestling your wrists together at the dip of your spine. 

The cuffs link together easily. After testing their strength with a few gentle tugs, you’re left completely helpless to whatever your husband desires. Limp like a rag doll for his use. With the blindfold and the restraints, he’s got you at his mercy. It only drives you to act out more.

“Are you gonna spank me for being a bad girl, sir?” you goad, smile hidden in the sheets. A wiggle of your ass back into his hold to tease. You’re punished with another sting on the opposite thigh, then another and another. Each knots your stomach as you whine from the burn. The thought of the camera catching you, bent over, tied up, and covered in cum makes your insides warm with need. “That’s all you got?”

He answers with silence; a tense while he calculates. His hand squeezes across your heated skin, mindful of how much he gives you even when you challenge his authority like you weren’t asking for it.

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears. Cool air rushes against the seat of your ass. You brace for another slap, prepared for it on the round of your ass. But Seungcheol likes to keep you on your toes.

The impact stings your clit, thighs trembling because it hurts in the best way. His fingers stay flat to roughly work you into weak submission. You barely register the cold lube dripping between your cheeks to ease Seungcheol’s fingers easing at your entrance. 

“That's all you got?” he mocks. “I swear one of these days I’m gonna fuck your throat until you can’t talk back.”

Your breath hitches at he fucks you open with two fingers, an embarrassingly easy stretch. “Could do it right now.”

“I’ve got other plans.” He rubs your insides raw, the sick squelch ringing in your ears. A calculating curl forces a twitch into your legs. All your weak spots are his playthings, until your nails bite into the meat of your palm from how well he works them.

“Like?” Your breath hitches with the next rush of his fingers. Even more when he spits on your hole and rubs the stiffness of his dick into the mess just to be nasty.

“No point of the blindfold if I tell you everything anyway.” 

“Seungcheol.” You shudder as he wedges a third finger inside.

He’s on his knees, chest hot against the back of your thighs, peppering soft kisses across your ass like he’s apologizing for the brand of his hand you’ll certainly feel tomorrow. You reposition to take him; legs spread, thighs stained with arousal from anticipation. Palms push against your legs to stretch further and  give the camera a good view. 

The tear in your underwear gives him plenty of room to work with but he’s also a show off, putting all the muscles he’s worked so hard for to use by ripping the remaining lace clean off with rough enthusiasm. They fall slack around your knees.

“Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks spread around my fingers.” 

“I will when I watch this while you're gone.”

“Gonna touch yourself to this? Seeing yourself get fucked?” His fingers hit that spot inside you. The one that punches air from your lungs and breaks you in half with limited coaxing.

“Yeah, might hu—shit—hump your pillow while I do it.”

Unlocking the cuffs, you sag in relief, straining muscles relaxing after being bound for so long. Seungcheol flips you on your back and locks them back in place over your stomach. 

“Fuck yourself on my face then. Show me how much you want it and I’ll let you come.” He bites, tongue flattening in time with the return of his fingers. The camera must be somewhere else. Probably back on the chair at the side of the bed. 

You do as he asks; feet planted on the bed as you curl into the pleasure, humping his face. A staccato lap of his tongue gets you started, wearing against the stiffness of your clit. You arch into it, unperturbed by the ache across your body. Seungcheol latches tight; sucking until your vision spots.

“Oh my god,” you hum; nerves fuzzy in your core from so much stimulation. He lets you grip a tight fist in his hair, keeping him still so you can ride his tongue. 

“Come for me. All over my face like a good girl. That’s what you are right?” His fingers hit deeper. Gives you as much as you can possibly take. “My good girl?”

“I am, I–fuck, fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Your orgasm rushes like a tsunami. It drowns you into utter silence, choked and shaking. You might fizzle away into nothing from the inside out. Seungcheol shoves your legs open to work you through it, dragging out every last inch until you kick at his stomach for a break. “Oh my god.”

“Good?” He smirks, chuckling when you jump at a cruel lick at your clit.

“Asshole,” you knee him in the side without much bite, focusing on catching your breath.

He sucks a bruise into your thigh because he can, pulling away to admire his work before speaking again. “Done or do you wanna keep going?” 

“Want you to fuck me,” you sigh. The emptiness consumes your brain, making you impatient for what happens next.

He licks his way up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth while the other grows sensitive between his fingers. “How?”

Drawn out from your previous orgasm, sink pliant into the cushion of the mattress. “However you want.”

“What if I wanna fuck you…right…here.” His thumb digs into your asshole, wet with spit and the obscene accumulation of your own arousal.

“Fuck, yes.” You nod pathetically. “Fuck my ass.”

The sick bastard laughs at your desperation like it's a cruel joke. “Not tonight. Maybe next time I’ll take a video of you taking my cock in your ass and one of your dildos in that tight little pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“You can fuck my pussy with both right now.”

“You’d want that?” His teeth bruise your nipple, hand dipping between your legs with no regard for your sensitivity. “God, you’re nasty.” 

“It'd be so hot,” you mumble. The jitters in your muscles haven’t faded yet you're already hungry for more. 

He leaves a kiss on your sternum before standing, footsteps padding against the floor towards the dresser. If he has any sense he’ll grab the one that perfectly resembles his cock. What once was a dirty gift exchange gag gift, now his favorite toy to watch you get off with.

“You sure?”

He’s sweet. But you don’t want him to be nice; you want him to dangle your pleasure in front of you and snatch it away when you get too close. “I’m pretty sure your phone is running out of space, so get to work big boy.”

When he comes back the blindfold is ripped away. Sweat beads on his forehead, hair wild, and skin pinked. Cock wet with a sticky mix of fluids, heavy against his thigh. He’s sexy like this. Based on how crazed he looks, you can only imagine yourself. And now you have it all caught on video.

“Hold this.” He shoves the phone into your grasp. “Film yourself getting fucked.”

The dildo is soaked in more lube; obscenely so. Enough to ruin the sheets and maybe the mattress but it looks good on the screen as he works it inside you until the base is flush with your pelvis. On the brink of breaking apart from just a clone of his dick, he fucks you nice and slow with it. A tedious grind into the heat of your core. Insides tightening but still missing something.

“What’s wrong baby?” he grins, fingers wedging inside around the edges. If you’re planning to take two cocks, he’ll make sure you’re prepped. “Tapping out on me already? Haven’t even put my cock in and you’re already whining.”

“Feels good.” You grit your teeth at his cockiness. This is for his birthday and if he wants you to be a pathetic mess for him, you indulge. “Fuck me harder with it.”

“Yeah? Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you with both. Stuffed until you can’t take it.”

“Kiss me,” you whine. You need something to distract from the visual of being split on two cocks before you explode. 

He does just that. A confusing mix of tender want compared to the vigor between your legs. Your hips grind on their own accord, tingling from his fingers torturing your clit in time.

“I love you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Fuck yourself on it. Show me how good you take it, yeah?”

You rock your hips into it the best you can, fumbling to keep his mouth firm against your own. A lazy rut but he won’t complain after all you’ve given him already.

The phone ends up back on the chair for now. Seungcheol doesn’t bother making sure either of you are in frame, trusting that whatever is getting caught will be hot enough even if it's just the sounds of fried vocal cords and the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Mmm, give it to me. Let me feel your fat cock inside me.”

“You’re so needy.” 

Your thighs begin to ache from being spread to accommodate him but it’s easily drowned out by the head of his cock breaching your entrance.

“Oh,” you gasp. It’s not something you’d ever be able to describe. A stretch bordering on pain but nothing more lube, Seungcheol’s patience, and some deep breathing can’t fix. 

“Does it hurt?”

“No, just…really full. Wow.” You breathe, the pressure in your gut limiting everything to just this. It’s not an easy slide like the dildo, it’s more than you’ve ever felt. “Go slow, I can take it.”

He sinks deeper, another inch before stopping and pulling back out; restricted ruts making your teeth clench. You need a distraction. Something to keep your attention away from how uncomfortable it is. You want nothing more than to be stuffed as far as you can take it, but getting there might take a while.

And because your husband can always manage to read your mind, he flattens to your chest, mouth meeting your own in a dirty kiss that makes you blush more than the two cocks wedged inside you. “Feel good for you?”

“Tight.” 

“I’m always tight,” you taunt.

“Tighter. Wet too, fuck,” he grunts. A kick of his hips you're woefully unprepared for knocks you out of orbit. “Look so pretty taking my cock like this. Stuffed so full. So fucking tight.”

A punch to the gut from how deep his voice sounds. Seungcheol is better at keeping up the facade of nonchalance than you but it’s betrayed in the detail: shaky hands, red ears, glazed eyes. 

“God, you’re so big. Feel like you’re gonna tear me in half.”

“Really know how to treat a man, don’t you?” he laughs, pained. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Thinking about what you said earlier. Fucking my ass and my pussy at the same time.”

“You’d like that?” Seungcheol pants driving a little bit deeper.

“Yeah.” You melt in his hold. His cock in your ass is a special treat you like to indulge in whenever possible. “We can film that too.”

He fucks you with calculated grinds; slow until you beg him not to be. This is for you as much as it is for him and Seungcheol will only enjoy it if you are too, even if his cock is being squeezed to death.

“Is it in all the way?”

“Not even close, babe.” He coos, a sticky lube covered thumb brushing your cheek. “Relax.”

“Take two dicks inside you and see how well you relax.”

“I’m not the cock champ here, am I?”

“Just touch me. Please.”  He skates that same hand between your legs, gentle circles on your nub while sinking deeper and deeper. Your stomach caves when he adds more pressure. “Fuck, right there.”

It’s the permission he needs to spread you prone, knees up to your chest to give you more. “Can you keep touching yourself for me? Play with that pretty little pussy for me?” 

“Yes, sir.” You rub weak circles on your clit, range of motion limited from the handcuffs. 

He abandons his grip on the silicon to twist your nipple. “Watch it.”

“Or what?”

“Say it again and I’ll make you ride this dildo while I fuck your mouth again.” He grunts, nudging your cervix to remind whose mercy you're under.

“But then you won’t get to see me take your hot load like a good girl.” You glow warmly with his choked expression. 

“G-good—god—what kind of good girl talks about having her pussy filled?”

“The kind that wants you to spit in her mouth,” you beg. 

“Then stick your tongue out.” He’s in a frenzy from how desperate you are. Thighs squeezing at the command, you do what he asks and are rewarded with the sick wet of his spit against the back of your throat.

You don’t get a chance to ask for another round. Seungcheol flips you on your front, face to face with the camera lens. Two of his fingers, the ones that taste like your cunt, hook into your mouth. Sucking them deep, you lap against them like their his cock; eager for the camera to catch the depraved need to be used that only he can inspire.

“Feels good?”

“So good,” you garble. “I love when you fuck me.”

“Yeah? Pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? All for me?” His voice jumps, cock twitching when you clench around him despite everything he’s giving you.

“All for you.”

“Gonna take my cum? Let me fill you up? That's what you want, don’t you? To be my pretty little cum dump?” He bites your ear lobe, fisting the hair at the crown of your head when you fall forward. “Look at the camera, baby.”

Wild jerks of his hips manage to force you to take him deeper, the head of his cock nestled further into your walls. All you can manage is a pathetic whine in answer to his questions. “Oh god, Seungcheol.”

He builds the pace, slow enough not to tear you in half but what he restrains in his rhythm he makes up for with harsh curls into the back of your throat. Each vein and ridge imprints into your core, more depravity. 

You can feel it, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your skull; the ebb of another orgasm. Seungcheol sinks the full weight of his hips inside you, taking the chance to fuck you with the dildo instead.

The comforter greets your face, Seungcheol abandoning his grip on your hair to land another round of punishing swats on your ass. It takes everything in you to keep your head up, for you both to play back later and see how nasty you are for each other. You want your husband to know what you look like when he fucks you in half, how your eyes water and lip threatens to split under the clamp of your teeth.

“Gonna cum,” he groans. His chest seals against your back, pathetic ruts into your stinging ass. It barely lasts. A ploy to grab the camera again for a cumshot. You let your face drop into the mattress, arching for the best view he’ll ever get. “Gonna ruin this pussy.” 

“Do it.” 

He removes the dildo, focusing on how you still manage to cling to his cock after being full for so long. It frees his hand to curl under your hip and pinch your clit until you scream. “Want you to come again. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” 

There’s no slow build. A sprint to the finish at the hands of your lover, you twitch in his hold, mind vacant except for what he asks. Nothing but the need to come on his cock. The wet echo of skin slapping as he fucks you harder now without the threat of breaking you. 

“I’m—close, fuck. Fuck!” You cry. Wetting his cock, you flail against the bed because Seungcheol is a cruel bastard that drags you so thin when you’re weak. A few more harsh drags on your clit, stomach sinking in half, and he’s letting you go. It’s weaker than the first but enough for Seungcheol to give in.

“Gonna cum for you,” he hisses, shivering. You milk him for all he’s worth. Taking the warm flood along your insides that keeps coming, each thrust gushing excess around the base of his cock. 

He pulls out and you nearly sob. It’s a vulnerable feeling to be empty after taking a beating to your pussy, one Seungcheol doeesn’t let you marinate in because he’s still filming. And that means playing with the mess of your cunt while giving the camera a front row seat. A few thrust of the dildo coated in a sheen of your insides and cum has him cursing like nothing hotter has ever existed. You feel open and used, messy. “Push it out for me.”

Whatever trickles out, he fucks right back in. The aftershocks of your second orgasm numb it all. Like you're underwater and Seungcheol is at the surface. Muffled.

“Oh my God, that was so…Holy shit.” He stops the recording and tosses his phone away. “You’re incredible.”

“If you’re trying to sweet talk me into another round, you need to do better.”

“I can’t come again if I tried.”

“Ouch,” you wince. “Hurtful.”

“Drama queen,” he laughs. The kisses up your spine make up for the dig.

You hum into the ticklish sensation. “You love it.”

“Of course I do, that’s why I married you.” 

“And here I thought it was for my incredible cooking.” You slouch into the pillows, body finally sputtering to a halt. “I feel gross.”

“Happens when you're covered in cum and take two cocks. Give me ten minutes and we’ll take a bath. The maintenance guy fixed the jets today.”

“Oh, baby.”

You and Seungcheol fall asleep five minutes later, your face in the pillows and Seungcheol’s lips at your shoulder.

“I’m under the big sign that says ‘Buses.’ Wait, I think I see you.” Seungcheol’s voice rings through the speaker as you scan the crowd

“Stick your hand up. Okay, now wave it in the air. No, bigger. Make a ‘Y’—”

“You’re so annoying,” he barks as he opens the passenger door.

You ease back into traffic, his hand clasped in yours over the center console. “I didn’t know having some harmless fun is a crime.” 

“It is when I’m tired and I missed you.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo sarcastically. “I missed you too.”

The drive home is peaceful. Seungcheol kept you updated during his trip and vice versa. Even getting in the door of the house is done in lazy silence, your husband refusing to let you go more than a few feet away before drawing you back into his hold. 

Tucked under the covers with your head on his chest, you crack; unable to keep his final birthday surprise a secret any longer.

“You know, I have one more gift for your birthday.”

“Baby, I love you but I can’t stay awake to fuck you. I promise I will in the morning.”

“Not that you perv. It's in the closet.”

“It can’t wait until morning?” he pleads, snuggling down to hide under your chin. 

“Nope.”

He gets up with a dramatic pout, shuffling to the closet for a gift wrapped boxed you’ve had hidden since his birthday.  “What is it?”

“Open it.”

He shreds through the paper, tossing aside the lid. Each second has you worrying your lip. It’s something you talked about extensively; in hypotheticals not realities. When you’d be ready. It’s why you bought this house, why Seungcheol’s car has a high safety rating. Something you’d both been clear about wanting since the very beginning.

There wasn’t an active effort but neither of you argued to use condoms again when your last pack of birth control ran out and the prescription went unfilled. You both carried on in silent agreement that whatever may happen will happen.

“Blueberries? You know we have a fridge to keep these in, right?”

“Fruit doesn’t belong in the fridge,” you shakily argue. “Now, read the note.”

“At seven weeks your baby is about the size of a blueberry. Baby Choi’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears are starting to look more—” he trails off, jaw slack. “Baby Choi?”

You burn under his gaze, shy like the first time he said I love you all those years ago. “Surprise?”

“Are you serious?” 

He drops the fruit when you nod, no doubt spilling the fruit everywhere in his haste to kiss you. It’s hard with both you beaming, cheeks round and burning. Kisses to your cheeks and chin and lips and nose like he can’t believe it’s a real thing. 

“I’m serious. Next week it’ll be the size of a grape and have fingers.” You pat your belly gently, his own hand caught under yours and snaking beneath your pajamas. “Weird to think about.”

“Oh my god.” He flushes. “How did you…?”

“Had a feeling while you were gone,” you admit. “On your birthday actually.”

“Really?” He’s staring at your stomach. You aren’t showing but since you’ve found out you can’t stop looking in the mirror for a change. That’s probably what he’s doing right now. Looking for those signs of proof that will start coming sooner than later.

“Yeah, I took like five tests in the grocery store bathroom to be sure.”

He doesn’t speak for a while, regarding you with silent awe. His cheek rests flat against your belly. There's a squeeze of your hand while his eyes sink shut to settle into the news. “We’re gonna be parents.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “My boobs are supposed to start getting bigger soon.”

“I thought something was different.”

“Probably the lack of sleep from your big ass baby.”

“Our big ass baby,” He corrects. “Is it too early to start decorating the spare room?” 

“It literally doesn’t even have a face right now.” 

Seungcheol kisses your navel, lips moving across the skin. “Your mommy is so mean to me. I think you’d be beautiful even if you don’t have a face.”

A week of knowledge, the initial anxiety you’d bottled up in effort to make sure he’s the first person you told (not including your gyno) starts to spill out.  “We can do this, right? You’re ready?”

His head pops up, eyes softening as he meets yours. “There is no one in the world I’d rather do this with.”

“Me either.”

“Best birthday present ever.”

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[yanderenightmare]

TW: anger issues, abuse, angst

gn reader

Thinking about boyfriends with anger issues…

How it’s okay in the beginning because your relationship is still fresh, and you’re both trying your best to be perfect for each other. How it’s enough for you to tell him he’s being silly with a sweet kiss to his grumpy cheek when he’s acting grumpy and insisting on having some type of fight with you over something unimportant. It’s enough to defuse him at that point—your unnerving smile and kind eyes, how you’re able to touch him even when he feels nuclear. The knots untangle within his head, and he calms down. He doesn’t apologize, but he gets sheepish and plays dumb until he’s cracking you up with some dumb joke—so you forgive him anyway.

The fights get worse over time, but so do the good times. He’s so perfect when he’s good, you forget about the bad. And you’re still able to disengage, at least most of the time. You can leave or ignore and dismiss—you can even agree to be wrong sometimes, even when you’re not. It doesn’t really matter. Those arguments are never about who’s right anyway—it’s just about fighting to see who can outlast the other. You swear, sometimes it feels like you’re the accused on the stand in a courtroom, but the judge has vacated, and it’s just you against the lawyer hurling pointed question after question at you.

Oh, but then he brings flowers, makes you smile and laugh, does something romantic, and tells you sweet nothings that make you blush. It feels right when you move in together. You love him. And you know he loves you. He still doesn’t ever apologize for his behavior—at least not with words—but he tries making up for it otherwise. After particularly nasty fights, when you go to sleep without him and without sharing another word, he’s on his best and brightest behavior the day after—makes you breakfast, drives you to work, offers to pick you up, suggests you do something fun later.

It's soothing that he knows he’s in the wrong. It makes it easier to forgive him. Makes you believe he’ll change.

Only he doesn’t.

The bathroom becomes your escape, a space you can retreat to when you’re on the brink. You don’t want to cry in front of him—he can get so mean sometimes, and the tears just egg him on like it’s some game he’s winning. It doesn’t really dawn on you that you’re hiding from him. If you admit that to yourself, nothing would make sense anymore. If you admit that to yourself, you wouldn’t be able to defend staying with him. And so you can’t. You suppress it. You’re not hiding from him—if he were to come knock on the door to let him in, you’d let him in. So you’re not hiding from him. No, you’re just in there for a quick breath of your own and to give him a little space.

But though you deny it, he feels you slipping away—and it only serves to make him more combatant. Raised voices turn into roaring—you fear the neighbors might complain. Nothing works anymore. If you walk away, he follows angrier than before. If you agree to disagree, he’ll only use it against you. If you cry, he laughs.

The time you get as ugly as he gets and start fighting back with your own insults is when he puts his fist through the wall right next to you.

The house shakes for a moment, then stands still. All is silent. Neither of you moves. You’re as stiff as a mannequin, and your eyes have never been wider—and yet you don’t look at him. Your gaze is fixed at nothing in particular as if unable to look anywhere else. You have a hand against his chest—it shakes. He feels it, and it’s a gross feeling—worse than the pain in his hand.

And he knows. He knows he’s ruined it. He knows it’s the exact moment he’s lost you.

No, actually. He probably lost you a while back…

He pulls his fist out of the drywall—the thin plate follows him before he drags it out with force. Dust and fibers stick to his skin in blotches where the blood coats his hand, seeping from the splits on his knuckles. It stings, but it isn’t the worst. No, his chest feels worse.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely through the strain in his tightening throat. “I’m sorry.” He can never repeat it enough for it to be enough. Fuck, what’s he done? What can he do? There’s a gaping hole in the wall he has you pressed up against, and it’s about to swallow him up.

“You’re bleeding,” comes your voice—as from the break of light in a stormy sky that reminds him it’s still day. “We need to disinfect it.”

He doesn’t dare protest, even as it confuses him how trivial you are about it. He just trails after you as you take him to the bathroom and clean him up. Holding his damaged hand in both of yours while you guide it under the tap, rinsing off the debris and blood, letting it all go down the drain. He didn’t even know you had a first aid kit, but you seem well-versed for some reason—how you dab the cuts with alcohol-soaked cotton, then tape shut the deeper slits before wrapping it all in a strip of bandage.

You take him to the bedroom, but neither of you speaks. He’s afraid to. And yet, both of you say goodnight while lying on opposite sides of the bed. He doesn’t know what feeling it is that simmers within his chest, but it makes it the worst night of his life.

And still, he must have slept soundly.

You’re gone in the morning—you’re essential things with you.

It’s strange, but he isn’t even angry. No… You left a note for him, but he can’t read it—not through the swelling of his eyes as they burn with salt and water and regrets that know no end.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Shinso ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Ukai ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Eren, Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[rynwritesreid]

I wanna know you, honey| Spencer Reid

A/N: I will be continuing mind games soon I promise, that’s all :)

Summary: Spencer’s wanted since the first time he had seen you, but he is was always to scared to admit his feelings.

Content: idiots in love basically. Smut. 18+. Fem reader. Fluff. Munch! Spencer. Creampie. No mentions of contraception. P in V. Semi dom spencer. Sub reader.

Masterlist| request are open| Navigation

Spencer knew you were so far off limits; it was almost humorous, but he couldn’t get enough of you. He didn’t love you, because he knew he couldn’t love you, but he would give everything he could, including his sky-high IQ, for you two to be in love with each other.

 

Spencer wanted everything from you, he wanted to know what you tasted like, he wanted to know what you looked like first thing in the morning or just after a shower, and he wanted to know what did when you were alone.

 

He often found himself daydreaming about doing mundane, everyday things with you. But shamefully, he also thought what it would be like to have sex with you. He believed you would taste like honey, and if he ever did get a taste of you, he didn’t think he would be able to ever stop himself. He wanted to know how you sounded, what kinks or fantasies you had.

 

Spencer couldn’t shake the thought of you, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself. “Spencer, you either need to tell how you feel, or get a grip man.” Derek stared at Spencer, with a mix of concern and amusement.

 

*

Spencer had neither told you about his feelings, nor got a grip. Instead, he found himself slipping deeper into his fantasies about you. The thought of your smile, your touch, consumed him day and night.

 

“Spencer, have you told her yet?” JJ interrupted his thoughts, her concern evident in her voice. Spencer shifted in his seat, his mind racing with all the possible outcomes of revealing his true emotions to you.

 

He had rehearsed the conversation a million times in his head, each scenario ending with a different reaction from you. The fear of rejection gripped him tightly, paralyzing him from taking that final leap of faith.

 

"I... I haven't found the right moment yet," Spencer stammered, avoiding JJ's piercing gaze. But deep down, he knew it wasn't about timing. It was about finding the courage to lay bare his vulnerable heart before you, risking it all for a chance at something more. And the fact that his boss, saw you as his daughter.

 

You weren’t biologically related to Hotch, but while you attended Georgetown University, you had become Jacks nanny. Hotch was the one who had pushed you to join the FBI and become a profiler. He had become overly protective off you, knowing the dangers of their line of work all too well.

 

“Is it really because you haven’t found the right moment yet, or is the fact that she is that close to Hotch scaring you off?” JJ watched Spencer carefully, knowing there was more to his hesitation than just timing.

 

*

All of Spencer’s thought now were consumed by you, he wanted you, he wanted you more than anything he has ever wanted before. “Hey, Spence. Are you okay? It feels like you’ve been avoiding me.” You whispered, there was a hint of sadness in your voice.

 

"Hey," Spencer replied softly, his heart racing at the sound of your voice. He couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes, afraid that you would see right through him. "I... I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

 

You moved closer, concern etched on your face. "Is there anything you want to talk about? You know you can always confide in me, right?"

 

Why did you have to be so friendly, and genuinely nice and caring. “It’s… its nothing. I know I can always talk to you don’t worry, but there isn’t anything to talk to you about right now.” Spencer swallowed hard, the words he longed to say caught in his throat.

 

“Okay. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”  Your voice was calming to him, it was something he wished he could listen to constantly. As you walked back to your desk, he noticed Emily and JJ glaring at him.

 

*

You don’t know what time it is, but you hear a light knocking at your door. Before you even start moving towards it, you hear Spencer’s voice, “Hey it’s me.”

 

Without hesitation, you opened the door to find Spencer standing there, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

 

"Spencer, what are you doing here so late?" you asked, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest at his unexpected visit.

 

He didn’t answer though, he just moved closer to you. His hand cupped your cheek, making you look directly at him. This is the first time you had seen Spencer this close, you could see how plump his lips, how his hair perfectly framed his face, and how his face looked like it had been created by a Greek god.

 

Before you knew it, and before you could ask him again what he was doing here, his lips were on yours.

 

Passionate and intense, his kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you. Spencer's lips were soft yet urgent against yours, as if he had been holding back this desire for far too long. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair.

 

“Do you know how long I have wanted to do that?” Spencer whispered against your lips, his breath warm and sweet. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of rejection or hesitation. But all you could see reflected back at you was longing and raw emotion.

 

“How long?” is all you could manage to say. Spencer's answer came in the form of another searing kiss, his hands pulling you closer to him. As you melted into his embrace, you started to wonder if he had wanted this as long as you had. But you didn’t really care, you were just happy it was happening now.

 

As Spencer pulled away from the kiss, all you wanted to do was pull him back into it, you didn’t want the kiss to end. “Which way is your bedroom?” Spencer asked, his voice husky with desire. You raised your arm, and pointed out your bedroom door, and before you could say or do anything else, you felt Spencer pick you up and place you over his shoulder.

 

"Spencer! Put me down, I can walk!" you giggled, feeling a mix of excitement and shock at his actions.

 

"I know, but I don't want to take any chances. Besides, I like carrying you around." he replied with a playful smirk.

 

You had never really thought Spencer would be strong enough to carry you like this. Derek and Hotch certainly looked like they could, but not Spencer. Spencer carried you to your bedroom with ease, though.

 

As he gently set you down on the bed, a rush of anticipation filled the room. His eyes met yours, a mix of adoration and desire swirling in their depths. “Do you want to know what else I’ve wanted to do to you?” Spencer whispered, his voice low and filled with longing. Without waiting for a response, his lips captured yours again in a fervent kiss that left you breathless.

 

His hands wondered your body till he found the hem of your pj shorts. “Is it okay if I take these off?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching for your permission. You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest as you gave him the go-ahead.

 

He slowly pulled down your shorts, revealing your soft skin beneath. Spencer trailed his fingers along your thighs, something he had dreamed off so many times. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as his touch sent shivers down your spine. He palmed your breasts through your t-shirt, sparking waves of pleasure that left you gasping for air. His lips found your neck, trailing soft kisses that sent desire coursing through your veins.

 

His hands pulled your t-shirt off you, revealing your bare skin. He paused for a moment, taking you in with a mix of admiration and hunger. His lips moved from your necks and down towards your breasts, kissing each one gently. You arched into him, feeling his tongue traces the outline of your nipple, making you moan softly.

His lips then moved on to your stomach, and finally they found their way to your clit.

 

His touch was expertly gentle, yet firm, and you could feel his intense focus on you. You let out a string of moans, your body tense with the desire he was unleashing within you. You could feel your arousal building, the intensity of his fingers and lips working their magic on you.

 

You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity growing with each passing second. It hit you like a tidal wave, waves of pleasure washing over you, your body tensing and then relaxing with each powerful contraction. You cried out, your voice ringing out loud and clear through the room.

 

You tasted as sweet as he thought you would, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel you around him, he wanted to hear you begging for him. As he drew his fingers out from your damp centre, a satisfied smile graced his lips, he knew he had made a profound impact on you.

 

Without missing a beat, he rose above you, his eyes scorching into yours, and positioned himself at your entrance. You looked up at him, fear and anticipation dancing in your eyes. He glanced down at your face, reading your emotions, and caressed your cheek.

 

“Don't worry,” he whispered, aiming to quell those fears gleaming in your gaze. “I'll be gentle, and I'll take care of you.”

 

You felt his warm, hard length nudging against your entrance, and your breathing hitched. He gently pushed himself inside you, and you felt like he was filling you in a way no one else ever could. Your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and pleasure.

 

Slowly, he began to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each movement. The sensation was indescribable, like fire and ice coursing through your veins.

 

Your fingers dug into his back, pulling him closer as the pleasure built within you. “Harder, please.” You begged; your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

Spencer, not one to deny you anything, increased his pace, driving into you harder and faster. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the raw passion and need reflected back at you.

It wasn't long before the tension within you reached its peak, and you cried out as you collapsed over the edge. Spencer's thrusts grew more intense, and before you knew it, he too was surrendering to the pleasure, the satisfaction of giving you what you've always needed.

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