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#I liked the first one but thought it could be more
fangirl-dot-com · 2 days
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🛏 Too Many Beds
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor Summary: Lando had a master plan to get you in his bed. Too bad everyone seems to mess it up. And who knew you were terrified of bed bugs?
this was so much fun to write and I'm so excited for this mini series! New upload schedule will probably be Reputations on Friday and Reverse Tropes on Saturday!
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Your hand gripped your suitcase as you stood in the lobby of the hotel. Of course, McLaren thought that it would be a good idea for some more team bonding before the season started and book an entire hotel. However, they forgot to mention that some of the people had to share rooms. 
How you got placed with Lando, you didn’t know. You had seen Oscar snickering earlier when Zac had read the list of who shared what room. Your face was beat red as you tried to hide in your team zip up. Your eyes flickered to Lando, only to find him fast asleep against the window of the bus. There was some drool on his lip, and anyone else would have found that semi-disgusting. 
But not you. 
It was kind of…endearing. 
But now that you were getting your key card and were in the elevator with a very sleepy Lando, your heartrate increased. You had tried to get your own room when you had gotten there, but Zac was intent with you sharing. 
Something about driver and engineer comradery. 
The floor before when Oscar got off, he had leaned over and whispered, “Have fun with the one bed.”
That statement made your face even redder. Of course that would happen to you. It was straight out of Tumblr or Wattpad. The one trope that you seemed to hate over everything. One bed normally meant that it was a single or a queen. And you were known for flopping everywhere.
Poor Lando probably wouldn’t get to sleep before the first rounds of development. 
Although he was sleepy, Lando, on the other hand, was vibrating with excitement. 
He had the whole thing planned out. He had requested to be put in a room with you. And then he swapped rooms with Oscar, because the Aussie had a girlfriend, ergo he had a single bed room. It was going to be perfect. Oscar would get the room with two beds, and Lando would just have to share a bed with you. 
The Briton had had heart eyes for you ever since you joined his rookie season in 2019. And when you had been promoted to his race engineer, the crush he had grew tenfold. He could see your face getting more red the longer it took to get to the room. 
“You ready?” he asked you before he used his card to unlock the door. 
“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, just wanting to sleep. At this point, you were planning to go to bed right away so that you didn’t have to deal with Lando crawling into bed behind you. You’d be asleep at that point, giving yourself no time to ogle at his chest (if he slept with a shirt off as most guys did.) 
The click of the lock indicated that the door could be opened and Lando took the initiative. This was it. 
Lando was going to live his dream. 
Except, his heart dropped when he noticed that there wasn’t one bed. 
There wasn’t even two beds. 
The room had three beds.
What. the. actual. fu....
Lando was going to kill whoever messed this up. His heart dropped farther when he saw your eyes kind of light up at the sight of beds to choose from. The McLaren driver bit his lip as he assessed the problem. 
You missed Lando’s agitation and put your things on the bed by the window. You turned to Lando, now confused at his pinched eyebrows. 
“Did you want the one by the window?” you asked, suddenly mad at yourself for just going ahead without asking the driver his preference. 
Lando immediately shook his head. “I like sleeping by the bathroom.” 
You gave him a smile. “Ok. Can I shower real fast? I go to sleep a little early.” 
That was a lie. You just didn’t want to be awake when Lando went to bed. Who knows what you’d be staring at. Your mind immediately went to the abs and v-line. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the unholy thoughts. 
You quickly opened your suitcase, grabbed your pajamas, and disappeared behind the bathroom door. 
Once Lando was sure that you wouldn’t come out, he quickly pulled out his phone and texted Oscar. It was to his horror that Oscar had sent a picture of the singular king that was supposed to hold you and Lando in tonight. 
Except that now it would be for Oscar and Oscar only. 
The Briton wanted to rip his hair out. He started pacing before he knew it.
How could he fix this?
He could lie and say he had separation anxiety and needed to sleep with someone. But you’d see right through and ask who else he’d shared a bed with. 
He could spill a drink on your bed? That also wouldn’t work because then you’d question why he had a drink around your things while you were in the shower. Lando didn’t want to come off as a giant creep. 
He was still pacing when he heard the door open up. 
His body turned to face you, but he immediately averted his eyes. Not because you were undressed, but because your pajamas were the cutest thing on you. You were wearing one of those silk tank tops with the smallest shorts possible. 
Lando watched as your feet got closer to your bed. His thoughts were flying around at 100 miles an hour. He had to do something quickly. Your hand pulled back the bedding when Lando yelled. 
“Hold on. I think I saw some bugs on my bed and yours.” 
The screech that you let out made Lando wince. You reeled back as though the duvet had burnt you. You quickly made your way closer to Lando. 
“Where are the bed bugs?” 
Lando couldn’t really tell, but he thinks he can hear your teeth chattering. You were getting antsy.
“Are you that scared of some small bugs?” 
You crept closer to Lando. 
“My childhood house got infected and we had to move. I also got such a bad infection from bites.” 
Lando immediately felt terrible. He didn’t know. If he had, he wouldn’t have said anything and just sucked it up and slept in his own bed. He looked at you. He could see that you were close to tears. His arm immediately went around your shoulders and brought you closer. 
You huffed. “Can we go down to see if they have any other rooms on our floor?” 
The brunet nodded. He looked you up and down before he turned around and dug through his suitcase. You wondered what he was doing before a hoodie hit your chest. It was the dark green one that you absolutely loved on him. You gave him a confused look. 
“Ah, your pajamas.” 
Oh. 
You looked down and realized that you were just in a very thin tank.
Without a bra.
And the room was cold. 
Your face flushed as you quickly pulled the hoodie over your head. The ends of the hoodie landed mid-thigh. You knew Lando was taller than you, but you didn’t expect his hoodie to fall that far down. 
Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you and you giggled and did a little spin, showing off how the green material looked on you. 
You were so worried that you’d have a staring problem, that you completely missed Lando’s staring problems. 
Once you were done, you headed to the doorway, Lando hot on your feet. He should have felt guilty about lying, but you were in his clothes and that made every feeling go away. The elevator ride was quiet, but comforting instead of awkward. The ding of the machine signaled that you two made it to the ground floor. 
Lando stepped out first, followed by you. Before you got to the front desk, Lando pulled the back of the hoodie, making you halt. You gave him a confused look. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed you his card. 
“I know you’re a bit scared of the bugs, so I’ll handle it. You want to get us some snacks?” 
Lando melted at your eyes lighting up as you nodded. You wordlessly took his card and spun around, now walking in the direction of the little shop. He knew that you were always picky with snacks, so he’d have a bit of time. 
He exhaled heavily as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist cocked an eyebrow, probably not expecting anyone at this late hour. 
His hands rested on the counter. 
“So, me and a friend are staying in room 444, and I might have seen a few bed bugs on one of the beds.” 
Lando winced as he lied. The lady’s eyes widened and she started typing. 
“Ok, we’ll have someone come up and inspect it with one of our bug-dogs.” 
Another wince. “Is that really necessary? Can we just move rooms?” 
Some more typing. “I don’t think that’s possible sir. We have to inspect the room just in case. If it’s all clear, then the room will still be able to be slept in.” 
Lando looked around before leaning in slightly. 
“Ok, here’s the deal. I’m in love with the friend that I’m staying with. We were supposed to have a room with a single bed so I could make a move. But something happened and we got placed in a room with three beds instead of one. I panicked and lied about the bugs. Is there any way I can just switch rooms? I'll pay extra.” 
Lando had hope in his eyes as he heard more typing. 
“I’m sorry sir, but there aren’t any more rooms available for tonight. You’ll have to stay in the room you have.” 
He hung his head as he nodded. 
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he muttered. When he turned around, he was met with you holding multiple snacks and some drinks. He hoped that you hadn’t heard anything. Thankfully, you didn’t mention his conversation. 
As you walked into the elevator you asked, “So do we get to move rooms?” 
Lando sighed. “There aren’t any available.” 
You chewed on your lip. “Maybe, we can look at the middle bed and see if there are any there?” 
He could kiss you right then and there. Lando went quiet for a minute. 
“Only if that’s ok with you?” 
You immediately nodded. 
“I just don’t want any bugs on me. I think you’ll be able to keep me safe.” 
The attempt at the wink that followed made Lando laugh as he got off the elevator. You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed him. Lando thought it was the cutest thing he ever heard. When you stepped into the room, you first headed to your luggage to pull it off the “bug infested” bed. 
You placed it high on one of the dressers. Lando followed in suit. 
Before you knew it, you and Lando were both under the covers of the middle bed after a full inspection that it was safe. 
Lando was a bit skeptical that you hadn’t pushed to inspect the bed you were supposed to sleep in. Part of him wanted to believe that you also wanted to share a bed. But he wouldn’t dwell on the thought. 
The snacks that you bought were quickly consumed, laughter shared between the two of you as you watched videos on Lando’s phone. You didn’t know exactly when it happened, but your head had started to rest on his shoulder. Lando took this opportunity to put his arm around the back of your neck. 
Lando remained oblivious and was sure that this plan was working. You were scared and found sanctuary in his arms. 
Except for the fact that you had overheard everything. Your phone was currently buzzing with messages from Oscar but you’d never let Lando know that. 
Well. 
You sighed as you unattached yourself from Lando’s side. You turned your face so that you could look into his eyes. 
Half the time, you didn’t even know what color they were. Some days they were the brightest blue, others they looked more green, and the in the shade they were brown. 
You smirked as you got closer. 
“So, what did you tell the lady about getting me into your bed hm?” 
You watched as a blush invaded Lando’s face before he put his hands over his face. Tik Tok was abandoned on the bedsheets below. 
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. You brought your hands up and peeled his own away from his face. Lando’s eyes flickered as he looked for some type of malice on your face. However, he only saw a smirk and a fiery look. He inhaled sharply. 
“I have had a major crush on you since 2019. And when Zac said he’d be pairing people up, I begged him to get a room with one bed for us. We were supposed to switch with Oscar and this room was supposed to only have one bed. But, I guess Zac took it upon himself to already do it so I wouldn’t have to switch, but we did anyway.” 
“Lando, I know. You think Oscar could keep a secret for that long?” 
The brunet paused, blinked, stared at you, and blinked again. 
“I’m going to kill Oscar.” 
You giggled, making Lando melt once again. 
“You’re not going to kill Oscar.” 
A grumble escaped his lips as they turned into a pout. You took this moment to lean down and lightly peck them. 
Once again, Lando froze. 
“So, should we actually get some sleep?” 
He could only nod his head, still not comprehending that you had actually kissed him and his plan worked semi-well. 
You turned around and rested your head on the pillow. Just a few moments later, Lando’s arm found a home in the crook of your waist. He gently pulled, bringing your back closer to his chest. 
So maybe he didn’t actually sleep shirtless, but that was fine because his head dug into your neck, just at your hairline. Lando breathed in deeply, getting situated.
Maybe the one bed trope did work.
You felt him smirk against your neck, but you thought he was close to sleep. 
Until he spoke up. 
“Sleep tight Y/n. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” 
“I’m going to murder you instead.”  
y/n_l/n has posted
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y/n_l/n I let the love bug bite 🐞 🌲
liked by mclaren, lando_norizz, papayaduo, oscarpiastri, and 104,948 others
y/nxlando UHHH HARD LAUNCH??
papaya.nation I knew that sweatshirt looked familiar when they walked in the paddock today!
landonorris4 the fact that he had a back up hoodie as well
formulala_delulu the couple who matches together - stays together 💚
oscarpiastri good to see that it all worked out in the end 😌
y/n_l/n let's not do that again, ok?
landonorris I thought you liked it tho 😙
y/n_l/n let it be know, you don't possess any rizz
oscarpiastri 🫵😂
loscar I need to know the lore behind this
norris4ever maybe he'll get a win now that he doesn't have to pine after y/n
mclaren814 my parents!
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis @e-nonsense
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fairy-angel222 · 1 day
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𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER
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✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s
✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.
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Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.
It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.
When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.
You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.
It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.
You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.
The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.
You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.
It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.
It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.
They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.
“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”
Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.
Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.
“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”
“Mhm, need you.”
He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.
“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.
His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”
You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”
He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.
“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.
“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.
“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.
Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”
You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.
The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.
“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”
Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.
“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.
“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”
“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”
You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.
“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”
Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.
“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.
His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.
He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”
Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”
You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”
“M’kay, love you Sugu.”
“I love you more sweetheart.”
It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.
That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.
You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.
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𝕭𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
note: this is the part 2 for this, but you can read it individually too:) I know they can’t reproduce in hell, so let’s pretend that they can! And thank you so much for all the support, really means a lot to me!🤍
Pairing: Alastor x fem!doe Reader
summary: Alastor, nor Y/N can’t resist against their instincts anymore
warning: SMUT (minors dni), heavy breeding kink, impregnation kink (i’m not sure if this is the right term, but you know what I mean:)) biting, knotting, primal stuff in general, dirty talk, like a lot of dirty talk, ooc Alastor, (forgive me if I forgot anything pls)
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Y/N got back in her room as soon as she could. This was her first heat, who knew they were this tiring? Especially given to the fact that she did absolutely nothing. Her daily mating season routine consisted of: sleeping, eating and masturbating. Therefore, she didn’t know the power a male deer could have over her, especially a male overlord demon deer. She wasn’t this down bad for him until he gave her a command, that made something click within her. Her hands were shaking and her mind was chanting.
Bigger nest, bigger nest, fawn, fawn, fawn, Alastor.
Her mind kept on repeating these words while she clawed her dresser open to take every soft thing out, to make her nest bigger.
When she finally made it twice as big, she curled up in there and tried to wait patiently for Alastor, although her body craved him more instead of the sweets. She felt the shiver crawl up and down her back, the hot feeling in her lower tummy made itself known harder than before.
Fuck it. She couldn’t wait. She needed release now.
She rolled on her back and spread her legs, her fingers were under her dress not even a second later. She was unbelievably wet, the crotch of her underwear was soaked, her body was ready to be mated, to be bred. She huffed in disappointment, her fingers weren’t enough, she needed more. So her firmest pillow was snatched and she began grinding down on it, yeah, this was way better. She couldn’t help it, she kept on imagining that it wasn’t a pillow that she was riding on, but Alastor.
She suddenly got a whiff of his musky scent and her hips dug themselves deeper into the pillow. Seconds later, she heard the locks clicking and the door opening…
Alastor could smell her arousal the second he stepped back in the hotel. A sweet scent coming from her room, she was more aroused than ever. While he was out of town, he caught a few scents of does in heat, but they couldn’t even come close to Y/N. He felt lucky that he was alone in the parlor, he could have felt ashamed, it was obvious that everyone left so the two deers could do their thing. But, shame was the last thing in his mind. All of his senses were occupied with Y/N. He felt the fabric of his pants becoming tighter, his breathing becoming heavier. He needed her. Now.
As he was on his way to her room, he was in and out of his demon form, desperate to feel the worked-up doe. Her scent was more intense, it fogged up his mind, making all of his thoughts circle around her. His knuckle ghosted over her door, but in that moment, knocking seemed useless and stupid. One of his shadows creeped under her door to open up the locks, when the door creaked open, he stepped in.
She was halfway on her stomach, one of her thighs was lifted and across the pillow, her needy pussy making a mess on the side of the pillow. There it was, the door opening. She blinked twice and Alastor was looking at her from the door. He still looked put-together, but his hair showed that he was running his fingers through it a lot.
Her big doe eyes were nearly in tears at the sight of him, she was relieved. She sat up on her knees, her dress was disheveled and her hair was messy.
“Alastor…?” She whispered, her eyes were hypnotized by him. His musky scent mingled with her sweet one, creating a new one that was them.
The desperation evident in her tone. Alastor got him coat off and went down on one knee before her. His clawed fingers reaching out to caress her blushing cheeks, she of course, nuzzled her face into his gentle touch. “Oh, you poor thing. Suffering all by yourself, hm?” He felt proper sympathy for the doe before him.
“Please, help me.” She purred into his hand, then she straightened her back out to rub her cheek against his. “I need you, Alastor, only you.” He almost didn’t notice how she managed to sneak his kneeling leg between hers and began grinding down on it. But he did know that he was about to lose his goddamn mind. This is music to a bucks ears, a pretty little doe begging for him and telling him that he was the one she needed, it is an honor really.
He put both of his hands on her face to make sure she looked into his eyes. “There, there. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you.” She squeaked in joy, she was about to crawl on him, when he stopped her. He got her into his lap and stepped inside her nest, sitting down with both her legs around his waist. “But… If you and I do this, there is no going back. This won’t be a one time thing, where we fuck just to get through our heat. No. You and I will be mates.” His demon form started to show slowly, his antlers growing, his smile getting bigger and his form getting taller. “No other bucks. You will bear me fawns, and I keep you safe and loved. Understood?”
There was a few second silence before she smiled and reached out to gently pet his ears and antlers, which went right back to it’s normal size. She was petting him in his sensitive spots, only a bucks mate was allowed to do that. He got his answer, but she spoke.
“I want that. I want you, Alastor, I really do. But… Are you sure? If you are to become my mate, I want you to know that I’ll need you around, all the ti—-“
Alastor chuckled and pulled her into a deep kiss, her tense body instantly relaxed. Their lips were dancing together, with every second they somehow mushed their bodies closer together. “I promise to give you everything you could ever need, want and more, my mate.”
They both gave themselves to the primal desire. They undressed each other in a hurry, or more like, Alastor sloppily removed his clothes, and tore Y/N dress in half. “Hey!” She shrieked, with a giggle.
He shushed her with another heated kiss. “I’ll buy you a thousand more, but not too soon, you won’t need clothes for a while.” His static voice slipped into an even more dominant one, a command.
He gladly acknowledged that she wasn’t wearing anything under her dress. She looked perfect. Her usually slender frame had some extra pounds, in all the right places. He flipped them around, so his mate was right under him, on perfect display for him. His lips wandered from hers and down to her neck, his tongue marked the spot where he would leave his bite on her, before continuing his journey lower.
He stopped at her chest, his fingers pushed one of her breasts to the side, so he could lightly bite into the flesh. Her nipple poked out from between his fingers, they were firm and begging to be sucked on. “What gorgeous breasts, my doe. My babies will have the finest to feed from.” He started sucking on her nipple, while pinching and kneading the other. He switched to the other one, and suckled. He did that until both her tits were covered in bite marks, her nipples were hard as rocks and the skin around nearly crimson. “I can’t wait to see them full of milk, I’ll have my lips around these beauties all day, before our little fawn arrives. Can’t have you feeling uncomfortable from all the milk your body is preparing, now can we? Daddy is going to help mommy out.” His dirty talking got her even more worked up, every single nerve in her body was aching for him, and for the baby that he’ll give her soon enough. He went lower, stopping at her lower belly and hips. “Would you look at that!” Both his hands smoothed themselves from her waist to her hips, gripping the fat on her hips. She didn’t even have time to fall into insecurity because of her slight weight gain, before he spoke. “You really are perfect. You were made for me. Made to bear my offspring, my gorgeous darling.”
He couldn’t help himself, he had to leave a few bite marks there too, then he completely got on his knees before her spread legs. He buried his face between her thighs, the source of her heavenly scent. His nose accidentally poked her already puffy clit and her whole body jolted. He decided to just bury his face into her, his tongue and lips were working in unison. Her moans made him go harder and faster, just like her delicate fingers that were gripping into his antlers.
One of his hands sneaked up her thigh, only to slip into her wet entrance. “Oh~ Alastor!” Her back arched.
Alastor looked up at her, half his face was covered in her arousal, a string of slick still connected his lips to her pussy. “I know, I know. Give me a second.” He made his shadow throw both her legs over his shoulder and arch her hips upwards, which made her a bit confused. “What are y—OH FUCK!” She felt his finger press into a spot deep inside her, her g-spot.
“Found it.” He chuckled smugly, bastard.
He went on like that for a while, bringing her to an orgasm over and over again, until she was begging.
“Alastor! Please, fuck me. PLEASE!”
He crawled up her body, now being face to face with her. His lips were swollen from literally making out with her pussy. “What was that, my dear?” He straightened up so he could begin unbuttoning his shirt, which he usually wouldn’t do, but he knew that his mate would need skin to skin contact, it helps them bond more.
“Fuck me. I am begging!” Her fingers reached up to help him with the buttons, small gestures, but oh so lovely!
“Excuse me, I can’t seem to he—“ he took himself out of his pants, before she grabbed onto his antlers and pulled his face beside hers, so she could whisper into his ear.
“Fuck me, breed me, knot me! I-I need you to finish inside, I’m more fertile than ever. Let me give you everything!” She started grinding against his hard and heavy cock, which stood proudly between them, impossibly hard for her and her warm cunt.
Alastor turned his head to seal their lips together, while he guided his cock inside of her.
They both sighed in relief, it felt so damn right for them to be connected like this. No wonder they were getting dizzy from each other’s scent, they were meant to be. She felt him nudge at her cervix, and curving right into her special spot.
He wrapped his strong arms around her, completely enveloping her, while pounding into her with no mercy.
“See what you do to me? The second I stepped into the hotel, I felt you. I have felt you for days. I have felt you every single time your curious little fingers sneaked under your dress, every fucking time.” His head was right next to hers, nuzzling his skin into her soft hair, finding comfort in it.
“I-I always had to do something down there wherever I felt your scent, I couldn’t do it if you weren’t around.” Her hands petted his ears, she was still gentle with him when his hips snapped into hers constantly. “I had you on my mind, when I was nesting. I wanted to show you, so you could be proud of me. I made it for you. Soft and warm… for you.” What a lovely creature she was, so kind hearted.
“Oh, my darling doe. You will make the greatest mother to our fawns. You will take care of them as much as you’re taking care of me… My sweet love, the sweetest mother to my children. I will be there for you, always. How could I ever let you go after this? My mate, I would hate to cause you the slightest pain, but I have to bite you… To bond us together.” He buried his face into her neck, licking at the spot he was eyeing earlier.
“I know. Do it. Bite me, and give me what we need. Give me our little fawns.”
He positioned her into a mating press, both of them moaned at this new position. His cock was nearly up in her womb. He reached down to stimulate her clit, he needed her to come, so he could fertilize her egg better.
“I will make your belly swollen, every part of your body will be swelling with my child.” His primal instincts were consuming him. “You will have a piece of me inside you. All. The. Fucking. Time. And everyone will see. Everyone will see how good my mate is treated, how good I fuck her. Everyone will know that I impregnated her. I will fucking breed you!” He felt his balls tighten and the base of his cock swelling, he was about to cum. Luckily she…
“ALASTOR! I’M ABOUT TO—-OH~”
He felt her clench around him, milking him for all his worth. He bit down hardly on her neck, leaving his bite mark that would always grace her skin, making her his forever. It was like marriage, but with deers.
She moaned loudly when she felt him fill her up, and it just kept on coming. He really set his mind into knocking her up.
Even when he stopped pumping his sperm into her, they were still stuck together. They kept each other warm in their embrace.
Alastor suddenly felt her shiver, so he flipped them to the side, so he could completely shield her from everything in his arms. He reached for a blanket and tucked her and himself in. Even after his swelling went back to normal, they still held each other tightly.
He kept looking down at her, admiring her, and gently caressing her skin.
“My beautiful doe, my gorgeous mate… You did so well. You’re my good girl.” He whispered to her, but her energy was down low. Her body was tired, and her mind was fogged. He reached over to grab the sweets that got them in this position in the first place. He started feeding her, before rocking her side to side to calm down her wildly beating heart.
“Thank you, Alastor… For everything, and more.” He could see the admiration in her eyes when she looked up at him with a smile. “I am proud to be your mate.” She looked down and palmed her tummy, caressing it with love. “I really hope we did it. I cannot wait for us to have our own little baby.”
“Me neither, my doe, me neither. But… If you didn’t get pregnant now, I’ll make sure that you get pregnant in the next few days.” He kissed her all around her face, making her giggle. “Now, sleep. I can’t have you tired tomorrow, we’ll have a lot of mating duties together.”
She grinned up at him. “Do we now?”
“Oh, yeah. We have to make sure that your womb will bring us a fawn soon. We have a lot of breeding and fucking to do.” He chuckled with her. She then snuggled into him, falling asleep, in the radio demon’s protective embrace.
Her mate’s embrace.
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Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee
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Text
I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)
People seem to forget you're dating Oscar
Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: jealous themes
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.
"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.
"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.
"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.
"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.
"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.
As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.
"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.
"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.
"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.
Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.
"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.
"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.
"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.
You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.
When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.
"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.
Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.
"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.
"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.
"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.
"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".
Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.
"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.
"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.
"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".
"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.
"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.
"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.
.
"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".
"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.
"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".
Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.
Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.
By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.
You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.
Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match
I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together
She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother
Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend
I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver
Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship
She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her
She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?
These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that
The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.
The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.
"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.
"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.
"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.
"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.
"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.
"Yes!", you answered loudly.
"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.
"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".
"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".
Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.
"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.
"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.
"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.
"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.
"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.
"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.
"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.
"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".
Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".
The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.
"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.
"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.
"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.
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angelltheninth · 3 days
Text
No Longer Virgin Training
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation instructions, size kink, name-calling, objectification, degradation, virginity kink, creampie, rough sex
Word count: 0.7k
A/N: Toji thoughts came back full force today.
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He always said he'd be your first everything. So far he was, your first boyfriend, first kiss, first wet dream, first love, first man to give you an orgasm. Tonight he would be the first man to fuck you.
"You didn't think I'd make it easy for you did you? It's like you don't know me at all." When the clothes came off you thought he do it, instead he said, "Only good sluts get a cock. Show me how ready you are to be my slut." He knelt between your legs, watching your fingers go in and out of your pussy, "I won't take it easy on you just cause mine is the first cock you'll get."
"I don't care. I want you to make yours, please Toji. Make me all yours." You pushed your legs further apart, pinching your nipple as you begged.
"Yeah, is that what you want baby? You want to be by cute little cockslut? You do, I know you do, it's the only thing you're good for after all." Toji hissed as he ran his thumb over the broad tip of his cock. He was getting impatient. "Tell me how much you want this cock. You're always drooling after it, fucking every toy you get your hands on just hoping that it'll feel good. That makes me happy, that means your hole is more than ready for the real deal."
Your fingers stopped to spread your pussy open for him.
"I am, I'm ready for you. Please, I want you to make yours, teach me how to be a good slut for you." Toji barked out a rough laugh at your words. He was so lucky to have a cute girlfriend like you, one so eager to be his that she will do or say anything. That was how much you loved him. Still you were a tiny bit scared when his fat cock pushed against your opening.
"Nothing to be nervous about, this cunt of yours already knows who owns it. It can take me." His big hands massaged your thighs as he pushed forward in one thrust, sheathing his full girth inside of you. Your legs kicked out at the intrusion, "Breathe, it's alright, this is what you were made for."
"What I was... oh God... so big... is it all the way in?" You kept your eyes on his, hands on his biceps so you could stay grounded.
He nodded, pulling back so you could feel the lack of him, the difference, "I told you there was nothing to worry about. You took it all, my pretty girl, just like I wanted you to." Without warning he pushed forward again, setting a brutal pace. "See? See how you take it so easily! That because your body knows it's purpose, your pussy knows it was made to be filled with my cock. The first and only cock it'll ever experience!"
You tried to tell him you feel the same way, you wanted to be the only one for him. But you couldn't get the words out, the pleasure too overwhelming, the noises you were making so unlike those a sweet looking girl like you would make, his cock and balls making your pussy so sloppy, so eager to take him.
"Not enough for you yet. No, your pussy needs more, it needs to know what it feels like when you come around a real cock." Toji leaned in close, licking the shell of your blushing ear, "And what it feel like to have when you're full of cum, when it's flooding your womb!"
"Cum?" You felt your body shake with anticipation.
"It's only right you have your first creampie too." Warm liquid painted your inner walls as Toji held you close, "Take it, show me you can be a good cumdump. It'll give it to you every day if you can do that for me."
You didn't quite know how to do this other then to come right after him, show him you want more. "More, Toji, all of it." You pleaded with teary eyes, only soothed by his kiss.
"That's my good slut." He had you like he wanted you, no matter what happens he will take care of you.
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days
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familia || alexia putellas x reader ||
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how alexia realizes that you're the one.
"amor, what is taking you so long?" alexia huffed as she tried walking into her bedroom. her body hit the door, which didn't budge an inch since you had locked it. alexia groaned, pounding on the door until you walked over to open it. "what is taking you so long? if you do not hurry up, we will miss dinner completely."
"don't rush me, i'm almost done," you told her. alexia whined as she leaned against the doorframe. you looked ready, which was the frustrating part. however, alexia knew how you were, and you'd be insistent that something was missing.
"well, you could have fooled me," alexia said sarcastically. you swatted at her shoulder for the comment. alexia was unbothered, aside from a few dramatic noises as you sifted through your jewelry to find the perfect piece.
all of alexia's whining would be over the moment that she saw what you were looking for. the only issue was, you had entrusted alexia to put it back in your jewelry case after it was picked up from the cleaner's. several of your pieces were not in their rightful places, which meant that alexia had definitely been in the case, but you couldn't find the necklace.
"what are you even looking for?" alexia asked you. you held up your hand to silence her. you needed every bit of your concentration to find this necklace. you had met alexia's mother and sister separately many times, but rarely would both of them be together while meeting you. there were always game days, but those meetings tended to be rather brief.
"here it is!" you exclaimed as you pulled it up from a spot opposite to where you had asked alexia to put it. you were very particular about where your things went, something that alexia often made fun of you for. your spaces in her apartment were often much more chaotic, but you swore up and down that it was all perfectly arranged.
"a-are you sure that you want to wear that one?" alexia asked as she watched you put it on in the mirror. you were beyond certain that you wanted to wear this necklace that alexia had bought you. it was a choker style necklace with an 'a' charm in the center, something that she had bought after a lengthy discussion about how open you were going to be about your relationship. alexia wanted to keep things more private, but compromised with the necklace.
"of course i do. i like to wear it whenever i can," you told her. alexia smiled as she walked over to pull you into her arms. she pressed several kisses to the side of her face, all of them trailing towards your neck. "now, let's go. come on, we don't want to keep your mother waiting."
alexia knew to expect eli fretting over her. it always happened during their monthly family dinners. alba usually showed up earlier or even the night before, so eli had plenty of time to fuss over her youngest. alexia tended to be a bit busy, so she couldn't stick around as much.
"oh look at you, far too skinny. alexia, aren't you feeding this poor woman? you and i both know that i made sure you could cook properly before you left this house!" eli was quick to push past alexia and straight towards you.
you laughed nervously as eli pulled you further into the house. your recent weight loss was less because of alexia's lack of cooking skills and more due to the coaches and trainers putting you on a diet. in fact, alexia had been vehemently against it whenever it was first brought up at training. if anything, you swore that alexia had been trying to soften you up in her spare time.
"mami, i swear it is not me. the coaches have put (y/n) on a cut," alexia explained. you thought that she sounded a bit frantic, but you didn't think anything of it.
"well that is just stupid. she's already practically a skeleton." eli prodded at your ribs, causing you to chuckle a little.
"i promise eli, i am fine. a little cranky, but ale takes it with a smile and is very patient with me," you said. eli seemed to relax a little at that, but she still seemed a bit unhappy.
"well, why don't you take a seat at the table while alexia and alba bring the food out," eli told you. she led you over to the table where two glasses of wine were already waiting. alexia pouted as she shuffled into the kitchen to find alba drinking something a little stronger.
"mami's been so excited about (y/n) joining us. she didn't even tell me that i haven't been eating enough," alba huffed.
"at least mami loves her," alexia reasoned. she was feeling a little jealous at her girlfriend taking up all of her mother's attention, but alexia was more than happy that you got on with her family well.
"she loves her so much that she's forgotten about her actual children," alba grumbled. alexia swiped the bottle out of alba's hands, taking the last couple of drinks for herself in one big swig. the bottle was dropped into the trash before the girls grabbed the food and brought it out.
unsurprisingly, eli piled food onto your plate, despite your reminders that you were on a cut. alexia promised to finish whatever you couldn't, despite her plate being bigger than yours. while they had you on a cut, alexia was on a bulk. she couldn't spend as much of her training with the team as she would have liked, so she had spent that extra time lifting, which you were very appreciative of.
"so, i was looking, and there's a play on one of your upcoming off weekends. it's right after you get back from london. i was wondering if you wanted to go," alba said as she turned towards you and alexia.
"that sounds fun," you told her.
"but we might go out. it's been a while since i've had time to take (y/n) out. i was thinking ibiza," alexia said. alba frowned as she turned fully towards you, her subtle way of letting alexia know that she wasn't invited.
"well, we've got a pretty nice vacation in france coming up in the summer. besides, alba and i have been talking about going out to see another play. we had so much fun the first time." despite how gentle you were being, alexia knew whenever she had been rejected. you were choosing to spend time with alba over her, which was a nice thought, but alexia hated it. she no longer wanted you and alba to be friends with each other now that it was taking up her time with you.
"i mean, you do whatever you want," alexia huffed. she crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her attention to her food. alba was quick to come in and distract you from alexia's little sulking session. she knew that you'd go back on your agreement to go to the play, even though you had been wanting to for months now, and alexia hated going to the theater with you.
"alright, you take good care of yourself, nena. don't let that one get you down too much, okay?" eli pulled you into a tight hug. you nodded, thanking her for inviting you to dinner before you went over to alba. alexia and her mother spent a little longer on their goodbyes, but you were sure it was just because eli's attention had been on you for a good portion of the night.
"bye albs, i'll see you for brunch?" you asked. alba pulled you into a hug as she shook her head.
"sleep in, cook for alexia, she needs you more than i do," alba said. the two of you looked at alexia, who looked very pensive. you were afraid that she thought dinner hadn't went well as she pulled you away from alba and towards the car. you weren't surprised when alexia just shoved her sister away as they muttered their goodbyes to each other.
"i had fun tonight. thank you for letting me come with you." you knew that you sounded nervous, but you couldn't help it. alexia pulled onto the road and kept her focus on it. the car ride home was silent, something that only made you feel worse. alexia didn't talk to you until the two of you were dressed in comfortable clothes and just sitting in the living room together.
"te amo," alexia said as she placed her hand on your thigh. you glanced over at her. alexia had an unreadable expression on her face, the same one that she always did whenever she was rewatching old games. "my family does too. mami would adopt you if she could, and alba really likes spending time with you. i didn't think that i could get that again, not so quickly."
"you're not mad about tonight?"
"i couldn't be mad about my family loving you. if anything, i am elated because it means that every feeling that i have about you is right. i could never love somebody who didn't get along with my family. i can't wait for the day whenever we get to bring little babies with us to my mami's for the weekend."
"babies?" you questioned. alexia nodded as she moved to sit on your lap. it was a rarity that alexia got like that with you, so you just sat back and accepted it. "how many exactly?"
"two, maybe three. three little putellas girls. one of them will have your eyes, and even if she smiles like me, they'll still light up like the sun when she does. the second, she'll just like me, stubborn and maybe a little too serious, but she'll love like you. she'll love so much like you that her heart will break, but we'll be there to pick up the pieces every single time until her sisters are old enough to help. the third one, she'll look like you, and i won't ever be able to tell her no." alexia had a dreamy look on her face as she told you about the little family that she had planned in her head. you had never thought of a family like that, but alexia was doing a good job of convincing you.
"you know, i'll have to have your last name first. unless you're going to carry," you told her. alexia hummed thoughtfully as she thought about it. if alexia carried, she'd have to retire, but you could still bounce back from a pregnancy.
"then tomorrow, we go ring shopping," alexia stated. you wanted to make a quip about her actually asking, but you already knew there as no use in her proposing. you had wanted to marry alexia for a couple of weeks now, but you didn't want to push her before she was ready. "maybe if mami and alba can make it, we can go to the courthouse."
"even if they can't, i'd still marry you." you leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek, unsurprised when alexia turned her head so that you caught her lips.
"if that's the case, then we'll go after breakfast tomorrow. i don't want to wait any longer than i have to in order to make you mine."
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lady-raziel · 20 hours
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and alright, here's my last (let's hope) and boldest take yet. lots of people have been talking about the level of staff (around 25-ish people) at watcher, and whether downsizing that number could have been a potential avenue of reducing costs before just jumping to a subscription model. at first i was like yeah, i'm not sure that there needs to be 18 people involved in making a lets play. i was in the fucking trenches in the unus annus days and i'm still amazed how markiplier and ethan nestor managed to put out pretty well edited videos every day for a whole year with only a handful of editors and a couple people filming. what unus annus was trying to do and what watcher is trying to do are obviously pretty different, but the point is that you really don't need a whole crew of people to make lots of different types of content and do it well.
i still think there probably doesn't need to be a whole production crew involved with the creation of some of the simpler types of content watcher puts out. however, i don't think the size of the staff is the real problem. in fact, i think the staff of watcher probably should have been larger.
let me explain. if i begrudgingly go to one of my most detested websites (linkedin. *bleeegh*) and look up watcher, i can see that pretty much every person on staff is in a creative role of some sort by their own admission. at first glance, its like, oh, that makes sense. they're making creative products, it's natural that they should all be in creative roles. however, once you think about it for a little longer from a business perspective, that fact is really concerning.
after all, by watcher's own definition, this is a production studio. this is a company. So in this sea of creative roles, who's doing corporate planning? Who's managing finance? Who's doing payroll? Or brand outreach? Or human-freaking-resources??? you can hire outside groups for all this. i'm aware. but those services cost a lot of money to contract too. i'm just finding it concerning that there is pretty much no one on full time staff that is there to at least do some of this stuff. if watcher wants to be a big-boy company, that's fine, but that means you have to pay some people to be part of your company to do the not-fun business stuff like accounting. or resource management.
if they want to be a real company, they should actually have a lot more people on staff to deal with all the non-creative parts of running a company. even if they contract out most of it, you want at least a few people that are your people and don't actually work for someone else. that's how you don't get screwed over or end up in a contract you can't get out of.
which leads me to my last train of thought. like, as i go through the staff of watcher and look at what they do, it really seems like one of the ONLY people who's job it was to look at the business side of things WAS steven lim in his role as CEO. and thinking about that, i'm like god, can you imagine?? here's a guy who just wants to create cool stuff too but as one of the few people who has to think about the realities of Brand and the Business, HE has to be the one to burst the bubble. He as CEO has to say no to people and make decisions to make sure the company survives. In a group of creative people who just want to make things they're interested in, no expense spared, he was probably the guy who had to stay at least a little tethered to reality.
I'm not about to say that steven lim isn't to blame here. everyone involved in making the decisions that have led up to this point is part of this. but shit, it absolutely sucks to have to be the person at the end of the brainstorm session when everyone is coming up with their best ideas and to have to say "guys, i don't think any of these things are possible unless we make some big decisions."
is that what happened at watcher HQ? i don't know. at this point, with radio silence from everyone, speculation is all we've got. but if you follow the thread of a bunch of creatives striking out on their own to make their own business after being burned by their former employer, despite not knowing really how to run a business, and then only hiring fellow creative people and not other people who actually run business things... well, all of this starts to make slightly more sense in WHY none of watcher's actions make sense. everybody wants to stick it to the man and be their own boss with their own business, until it actually comes to the hard parts of doing that. at that point people start to realize, "oh, maybe some of the things that existed at my old job were there for a reason, actually."
all this is why lots of creatives striking out and starting their own businesses don't work in the end. they're thinking about in terms of creative products still, when they really need to be focusing more on the "business" part of the "creative business." it's sad. it sucks. it destroys a lot of good ideas and good people, because one person in every company like that has to be the one who thinks practically. could this have been avoided if watcher had been hiring people all along to manage this business and not just adding people to add to the creative output? maybe. even then it might not have been enough to curb other predictable impulses that led us down this path.
i feel bad for watcher, and i feel bad for the fandom. but i can't help but wonder if this was always the kind of situation we were going to end up in, and we just missed some of the warning signs because ALL of us were thinking, "well, that could never happen to us. we're different. not the Ghoul Boys."
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highvern · 2 days
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Between the Titles
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)
warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink
Length: ~9.5k
Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this
Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.
As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 
Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 
It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 
You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.
Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.
Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.
Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.
But this morning you have notes to write.
Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.
The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.
A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.
Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 
I’m in Love with Mothman…
Well there it is.
You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.
Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.
When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 
His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 
A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.
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Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 
Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”
“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”
His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 
“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”
“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”
He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 
“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”
It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.
“What is it?”
Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.
If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.
“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”
“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”
“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”
Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.
As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.
I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.
Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 
You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.
The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.
“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.
With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”
“Get in line.”
Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.
Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 
“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”
“Bummer.”
“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”
“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”
“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”
Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.
“Yoongi,” you sing.
Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”
You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.
“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”
He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.
“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”
He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”
With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.
If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.
On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.
You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 
Of course he smokes.
The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 
“You know those things will kill you, right?” 
“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”
“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”
Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”
The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.
“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”
With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.
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The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.
Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.
Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 
“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”
But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.
Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.
“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.
“Are they the right copies this time?”
“Double checked them myself.”
You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.
Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.
Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”
The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”
Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 
Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.
You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.
Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.
Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.
Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.
“What's this?”
“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.
His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”
Of course he has.
Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.
Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.
You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 
It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.
You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 
He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 
The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.
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Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 
Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 
“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”
“Oh.”
Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”
“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”
You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.
A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 
Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.
The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.
You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.
Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.
A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.
“Looking for something?” 
Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.
“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.
Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”
“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”
Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 
“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 
Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.
“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.
Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.
“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.
“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”
“Oh.”
“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”
The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.
Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 
Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 
The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.
A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 
The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.
“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”
Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.
Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.
To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.
A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.
Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.
Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.
The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 
Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 
“Yoongi,” you say.
“Y/N.”
You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you croak.
Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”
“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.
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Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 
“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.
Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”
Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 
“Yes.”
“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”
Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.
“Yes.”
“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 
“And he can hear you, so shut up.”
“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 
He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.
Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 
“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 
“Taehyung.” 
“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.
Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 
“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 
“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”
“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”
“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”
Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.
After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.
“I’m getting coffee.”
“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.
The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 
You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.
Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.
Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.
‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 
A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’
‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.
‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’
At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.
“Snooping for secrets?”
“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”
“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”
“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”
Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”
“Nope.”
You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 
This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.
His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 
“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 
He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 
A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 
Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.
Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 
His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.
“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”
Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 
“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.
Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.
“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.
Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.
Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 
“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.
You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 
“They were out.” 
With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.
“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 
You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.
“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.
Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”
“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 
“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because…”
Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.
“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”
You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.
When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”
“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.
Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”
“If you’re leaving, so am I.”
“Why?” your roommate whines. 
“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”
“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 
You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”
“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.
You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.
“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.
It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.
“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 
“Go ahead.”
The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.
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The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.
Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.
Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.
Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.
You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.
Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 
He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.
You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.
Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.
An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 
But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 
Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.
Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.
There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 
A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.
You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.
“Yoongi?” 
A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.
“Jesus, you scared me.” 
“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”
“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”
“This is my job.”
“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”
“Who says it’s stopping me now?”
He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”
You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 
A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.
“Could have fooled me.”
“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.
“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”
“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”
The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.
“How long? How long have you wanted this?”
Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”
You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.
The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.
“That was months ago.”
“I’m a patient guy.”
You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.
Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”
“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.
“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”
“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”
Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 
He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 
You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 
He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.
His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”
“You thought about this?”
“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”
A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”
“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”
Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”
Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 
The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.
“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”
Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 
He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 
Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.
“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”
The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.
He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.
But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”
Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.
Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.
Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.
“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”
You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 
It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.
“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 
“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”
“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”
He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.
You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 
Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.
Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 
There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 
You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 
Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.
He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 
With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”
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“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.
A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”
Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.
Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.
You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 
After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 
He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.
You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 
You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 
“One of my books is missing,” you say.
“Oh, right.”
Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.
Maybe He Just Likes You
And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’
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rynwritesreid · 2 days
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hi hello yes i just read your post ab spencer buying the necklace and it was amazing and i was hoping to see a pt 2 with spencer buying an anklet with his initials for the reader? and at first you thought it was a bracelet but then he tells you it’s only for him so he can see it while y’all are fucking and your legs are on his shoulders 👀
A/N: You guys have to stop coming up with such good ideas :,). to anon, I am so glad you liked the first part to this, I hope this is everything you want it to be.
Summary: Spencer feels it's unfair that you don't have a piece of jewellery with his initials on it, and decided to make things right. But when you find out the reasoning him for picking an anklet over a bracelet, you can't wait to see if his idea matches reality.
Content: Smut 18+. Fluff. Dom!Spencer. Fem!reader. oral (F!receiving) No mentions of contraception. Penetration. Creampie. some aftercare mentioned. Possessive Spencer. Pet names (princess and my love).
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After Spencer had seen your reaction to his necklace with your initials, he thought it was only fair in getting you something. However, while Spencer enjoyed seeing how effective a little piece of jewellery was in stopping him from getting unwarranted interactions, he didn’t necessarily want that for you.
So, when you came home to see Spencer with a carefully gift-wrapped box you weren’t too surprised as he did love getting you gifts, but you had no idea what he had gotten you. 
“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing the box suspiciously. Spencer grinned mischievously, enjoying the anticipation written all over your face.
Open it and see," he urged, handing you the box.
You carefully peeled away the wrapping paper, revealing a sleek black velvet box. With a quick glance at Spencer, who was practically bouncing with anticipation, you lifted the lid to find a stunning silver bracelet nestled inside. As you looked closer you could see an S and R entwined in an elegant script, just like the necklace he had. You gasped, running your fingers over the delicate design as a smile spread across your face.
"It's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered, feeling touched by his thoughtful gesture. He beamed with pride, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Can you help me put it on?” 
“Of course I can, my love.” He paused for a brief second. “But I do have a confession to make about it.”  Spencer’s cheeks seemed to become a light shade of pink, his eyes twinkly with mischief. “It’s not.” He coughed slightly, one of the nervous ticks you had noticed about him when you two first started dating, “it’s not a bracelet. It’s an anklet.” 
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "An anklet?" you echoed, pretending to be surprised. Spencer nodded, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. 
"I thought it would look perfect on you," he explained. With a chuckle, you sat down and lifted your leg for him to fasten the anklet around your ankle. “And, well this is for my eyes only.”
“For your eyes only, huh?” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in your eyes. Spencer's cheeks flushed even deeper as he nodded, his gaze locked on your ankle as he fastened the anklet securely in place. “I didn’t know you admired my ankles this much, Spencer.” 
Spencer let out a nervous laugh, feeling caught in his attempt to keep the anklet more of a private sentiment. “It’s not your ankles I’ll be admiring when I am looking at this.” Spencer moved a little closer to your ear. “It’s the fact they’ll be resting on my shoulders.” He stated in a whispered tone.
"Spencer," you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to cup his cheek, "you never cease to amaze me." His eyes sparkled with affection and a hint of something more as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “Should we test it out. Because I also want to know what it will look like on your shoulders.” You whispered, a playful twinkle in your eye.
Spencer was more than eager to test it out, he also loved knowing there was always going to be a reminder on you that you belong to him. With a shared grin, you both rose from the couch, your new anklet glinting in the soft light of the room. Spencer's hand found yours, his touch warm and reassuring as he led you to the bedroom.
As you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer gently turned you to face him. His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, a silent promise lingering in their depths. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly knelt before you, his fingers deftly tracing the delicate chain of the anklet around your ankle.
"Beautiful," Spencer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But not as beautiful as you." The sincerity in his words made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through you at his tender gesture. Silently, he rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving yours as he led you to the bed.
With a gentle hand on the small of your back, Spencer guided you to sit on the edge of the mattress. He moved closer, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away in that moment, leaving just the two of you lost in each other.
As the kiss deepened, Spencer's hands began to explore, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire. You responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. The anklet felt like a secret between the two of you, a symbol of your connection and the intimacy you shared.
Clothes were shed in a flurry of urgency, but there was a tenderness in each caress, a deep-seated love that transcended mere physical desire. But Spencer was not in a hurry to do anything else, he wanted to take his time with you, admire you.
As you lay in your shared bed with him, he couldn’t imagine been anywhere else. “I love you so much.” His voice husky and filled with lust. He started to kiss your neck, but he started moving down.
He peppered kisses down your neck and traced the curves of your skin with his lips, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Your breath hitched as he reached your collarbone, his touch igniting a passion that burned brightly between you. Spencer's hands roamed your body with reverence, mapping every dip and curve as if committing you to memory.
You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation of his lips on your skin, the love and desire mingling into a heady cocktail that enveloped you both. His movements were slow and deliberate.
Spencer's kisses trailed lower, his hands guiding the path as he worshipped every inch of you. When he finally reached the curve of your hip, he paused, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of adoration and hunger. Without a word, he pressed a soft kiss to your hipbone, a silent promise of all that was to come.
As his mouth finally meet your clit, almost by instinct, you wrapped your legs around his neck. You gasped at the sudden intimacy, the surge of desire overwhelming you. Your hips bucked instinctively, the need to feel him against you consuming you. He smiled against you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began to move his tongue in a rhythmic pattern that made your body clench.
With each stroke of his tongue, your moans grew louder, each one a testament to the pleasure building within you. His fingers found their way to your throbbing core, sliding inside you with ease. The sensation was too much, too intense, and you cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
Spencer pulled himself away from you, and gently pulled you to the edge of the bed. He grabbed your legs and placed them above his shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours. As he began to line himself up, he couldn’t believe how lucky he is, seeing his initials dangle from your leg and how you react to every touch he gives you, he knew you would always be his.
As he entered you, slowly at first, your eyes locked in a passionate gaze with his own. Your breath hitched as he made his way deeper, claiming you fully. Your senses were heightened, the anticipation and longing that had built between you now manifesting in the most intimate of ways.
Spencer moved with purpose, his movements slow and deliberate, each one designed to bring you closer to the edge. He could feel your body responding to his, the perfectly synchronized dance of your hips and his thrusts.
“Spencer, you feel so good.” You basically moaned out. 
Spencer briefly moved his attention away from your eyes and turned it towards your ankle. Although this was Spencer’s favourite position before, because of how deep he could get, it had somehow become even better. 
Seeing the anklet on your ankle, with his initials, as he thrust into you was an erotic sight for him. And while Spencer was definitely more dominant than you, and he did sometimes like to act like that when it came to sex, what he said next seemed to be a bit of shock for you.
“You feel so good, princess. Especially now, knowing you belong to me and that no other man will ever get to look at you like this. Because these, are my initials.” Spencer stated, his eyes glinting with a mixture of possessiveness and love.
You moaned softly, your hips bucking against him in response. "You belong to me, always," Spencer promised, his voice low and husky with desire. "And I will make sure everyone knows it."
You knew Spencer was just stating a fact, but hearing it like that, it seemed so much more real than before.
Spencer's movements grew more urgent, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. You could feel your climax growing near, the pleasure building up inside you.
"Spencer," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I need you to...please, don't stop."
He smiled at you, a mix of tenderness and dominance in his eyes. "Don't worry, I won't. I'll give you whatever you need."
With that, he increased his pace, driving deeper into you. You could hear him moaning softly, his breath hot against your ear as he thrust into you.
Your body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming you as you felt the sensation of a climax building within you. Spencer knew the moment it hit you, his fingers digging into your hips as he matched your rhythm. As you cried out his name, he thrust harder, his own release not far off.
His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity and passion etched across his face. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so beautiful, so perfect, and all mine."
With a final thrust, Spencer groaned out your name, his pleasure intertwined with your own. Your bodies pressed together, sweating, and gasping for air, as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, the evidence of his love for you, and vice versa.
“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Spencer whispered softly, a hint of possession in his voice. He gently pulled out of you, admiring the wetness that had pooled between your legs. You watched as he stood up and walked over to the bathroom, his body still glistening with sweat.
He turned on the water and adjusting the temperature to warm, he walked back into the bedroom, as he knew it would be almost impossible for you to walk and carried you into the shower.
He gently placed you under the cascading water, his hands caressing your body as he washed you clean. The water was warm and soothing, but the real heat came from the look in his eyes as he admired your naked body.
"You are mine," he said softly, his fingers tracing the wet skin of your back. "And I will never let you go."
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screampied · 2 days
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Hi :3 ily and your work and I have a request, just lmk what you think..
Gojo bein mean n bratty telling you he knows that you can give better head than you’re giving him (he’s just teasing, of course he’s in love with u, you always give him the best sloppy he’s ever had n he just wants to get you worked up). You’re pouty and know he’s messin with u but u bite back this time, telling him you know he can’t do better and challenge him to suck a strap for u. Up to you if he’s experienced at that or not LMAO. Hopefully that doesn’t count as amab since it’s still fem reader <3
⋆ ᩍ ۪ putting bratty gojo in his place !
cw. fem! reader, brat gojo, praise, hair pulling, dirty talk, sucking your strap, spit, calling him a good boy, mdni. an. thank yew ily2!
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“suck a what?” gojo spats, and he breaks into an utter fit of laughter. you deadpan, you were dead serious, quite annoyed with him thinking everything was so funny. “oh, that . . thing? you don’t think i can?”
you mutter, barely blinking twice. “i know you can’t.”
“…..girl,” he scoffs, with the most dramatic eye roll. gojo briefly licks his lips before shrugging. “you act like what i said was remotely wrong. all i said was that i could go down on you better than you can go down on me,” and he snickers at his own joke, watching you grow more vexed by the second. “aw. don’t look at me like that, baby.”
“prove it then.” you mumble.
gojo scoffs once more. “prove it she says,” he mocks you underneath his breath. “hmph okay, do i just,” and he kneels down. “get on my knees and stick out my tongue while you—”
“uh huh yeah, exactly. you’re a natural,” you utter, watching his bright cerulean irises stare back into yours. he has a tiny pout spread across his lips before he stares straight ahead. you bring a hand towards his face to cup his chin before stroking his lips. “now do what you always tell me to do, open wide.”
“pft,” he grumbles, and his pout was so cute. it stretched across his pink spit-glossed lips before he gives the tip of the strap one brief lick. “maybe after ‘m done you could learn a thing or two from me.”
“less talking more choking, baby.” you ruffle his hair, watching his scowl deepen. his scowl, nonetheless, it was cute. he’d always give you that same pout.
seeing him be on his knees like this, for you . .
it turned you on a little, although you were curious.
as much times as you’ve been in this exact position, taking him down your throat. you one ponder what’d it be like for gojo with a simple faux strap.
gojo gradually lolls his tongue out and starts to make cute kitten licks near the toy.
he’s glaring at you the entire time, white brows forming into a furrow before he starts to feel himself not only grow flustered but grow a bit hard. gojo’s understandably stiff at first, considering how he’s apparently never done this before.
usually that was for you, getting his dick wet with with your tongue and your warm throat. despite it being just a silly toy, he still thought the same. with a huff, he starts to sink his mouth down.
you sat still, running a hand through his tangeled white locks. he was staring at you the entire time, a cute frown on his lips the entire time. he’d finally see what it’d be like whenever you went down on him, in a sense.
he was still a bit sensitive from a few moments ago, just seconds ago—you were doing the same thing, giving him immaculate top. gojo reaches down to touch himself and that’s when you give his hair a light tug. his head yanks forward and he whines.
“hands to yourself, baby.”
“hmph.” he’d grumble, sinking his mouth further down the toy. you watch how sheeny strings of drool seep and pour down the sides of his mouth. gojo was messy—entirely sloppy. you throb a bit, peering at your boyfriend in such a lewd state for you. on his knees for you, he briefly gags once the faux tip prods against the very back of his throat.
such amounts of his saliva started to pour a bit into your thighs, you maintain a grip with his hair before gently moving his head closer. his tongue slowly grazes against the edges before he slips off a moan. “you sure you’ve never done this before?” you tease, and watch as he immediately returns with a cute glare.
it was cute considering how gojo had a gag reflex, every few seconds he’d gag—a cute expression that’s forever entrapped into your memory.
cute cheeks of his flare up and he starts to feel his own dick twitch—he feels his jaw get sore and his tongue swirls against the fake purple colored tip. “. . mhm,” he groans, and once you seem his head starts to bob—you end up pulsating heavily behind your panties. his eyes were now half lidded, he’s all into it and he even departs his lips for a second just to spit on the head. “don’t look at me,” he cutely grumbles, squeezing around the length before wrapping his hand over the slippery strap. he’s so messy, some of his spit even trickling toward your thighs.
“is the pretty brat embarrassed?” you coo, a hand still combing through his white strands. he replies with a glare and you giggle, making him sink back down onto the toy. his eyes close—and he grunts before his cock twitches again, a single twitch in his boxers and he starts to whine again.
every few seconds, he’d break his lips away to breathe—glistening strands of spit leaving from his lips, perfectly decorating the tip with his saturated saliva and he moans once you swipe a thumb against his lip.
“you’re such a good boy, ‘toru. you suck so well, and he pouts again, your praises only fueling the fire ten times more. that’s only then that gojo looks down—feeling an abrupt damp spot soak the inside of his briefs, only to then realize that he totally just creamed his pants. you lift up his chin to look at you, and you hum. “who taught you that, baby?”
“suguru.” he mumbles.
“what?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“what?”
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xorafe · 3 days
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okay so basically i was thinking that rafe and reader just had a kid and rafe has been neglecting them and reader for whatever reason and then topper or anyone comes over and since the kid hasn’t seen rafe in so long they end up calling them dad which rafe hears and gets mad at for a bit and then someone puts him in check and he apologizes to reader and starts putting more effort into the family🩷
🍓anon
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You don’t understand how Rafe can be so heartless.
Whenever your son smiles at you, dimples just like his father’s, you wonder how Rafe doesn’t miss him. How he can drift in and out of your home, hardly ever present.
Your relationship was once so joyful. You ran in the same social circles, eyes on each other at parties, when your mutual friend Topper finally introduced you to each other.
You hit it off and started dating and then, six months into your relationship, your life changed forever when you stood tense in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hand.
Rafe was shaken at first. He was shaken for a while. It wasn’t until he saw the screen at your first ultrasound that he could fully understand that you were bringing a human being into the world.
And then he settled into the role, feeling genuinely hopeful about the future for the first time in life. He found a beachfront condo for your growing family. He filled it with furniture. He started talking about all the things the three of you could do together.
But as your son grew, the stress got to the both of you, leading you into more and more arguments with each other. Rafe became cold and distant.
You tried to talk sense into him, tell him that if he was falling out of love with you, that was fine, but he had to love your child. Regardless, Rafe kept drifting away from both of you, your once solid family breaking apart and deteriorating.
One afternoon, you text Topper asking if he can buy and drop off diapers. Rafe was supposed to do it but he hasn’t been home in days. You don’t want to bother calling him, knowing he’ll just disappoint you.
When he comes by, you can see it in Topper’s expression that you look just as sad as you feel.
“You okay?” He’s standing outside the door, handing you the box of diapers.
“I’m so tired,” you admit, voice cracking. “He’s barely even home, Top. It’s like he’s checking out.”
Your son waddles towards you, arms spread out. You wipe away your tears and pick him up, forcing a smile for him.
When he looks at Topper and babbles dada, your heart shatters.
“That’s not dada,” you say, kissing your son on the cheek. You look to your friend. “Sorry. I’m kind of a mess right now. Thank you for dropping these off.”
Rafe is at the club, drinking a scotch and gazing out at the golf course, when his phone starts buzzing, Topper’s name on his screen. He answers with a tired drawl.
“Hey, man,” he hears on the other line. “You gotta get your shit together.”
“What?”
“Your girl’s not doing so good. And your kid thought I was his dad.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She asked me to buy diapers,” Topper says. “Shouldn’t you be doing that?”
Rafe can only angrily hang up, his blood running hot. You’re calling other people for help? Really?
He finds your name in his phone and calls you. But you don’t answer.
It’s late when he finally comes home, carrying two big grocery bags.
You just got your son down to sleep and rush to the door, shushing Rafe as he walks in. He’s pissed off that the first thing you do when you see him is shush him.
“What’s all this?” you ask, looking at the full, heavy bags he’s carrying.
“Apparently, you got someone else to bring you diapers,” he says bitterly, “but I got everything else we need.”
“How would you know what we need?” you say tersely.
“Don’t give me shit right now,” Rafe mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He starts to put things away, loudly opening cupboards and drawers, when you grip his arm.
“You’ll wake him,” you scold. Rafe turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing.
“I did something good,” he says. “Can you show some goddamn appreciation?”
“Am I supposed to thank you for buying us food?” you snap. “It’s your job.”
Rafe hangs his head, sighing deeply as he rests his hands on the hard marble counter. You’re expecting him to keep arguing with you. But his next words come out strained.
“He thought Top was his dad?” he mumbles.
You cross your arms, feeling a sense of vindication.
“Yeah,” you say. “Can you blame him? He’s the only guy he’s seen around here in a long time.”
Rafe cracks his neck, pacing away from you as he breathes deeply, circling back towards you.
“Why’d you call him?” Rafe asks. He hates that another man provided for his family.
“What, and not you? Like you’re so reliable,” you mutter. “Where the hell have you been, Rafe?”
Rafe’s been living in a haze. He can’t forget your last argument when you screamed at him that if he didn’t love you, fine, but he had to love your son.
Fine. You’re fine if he doesn’t love you anymore.
Rafe has never cried in front of you. He always stifled it or left the room whenever he felt the thick threat of tears in his throat. He thought he had to be a man.
But at this point, he’s too weak to put up a front.
When Rafe starts sniffling, your heart drops. You’re in complete shock that he cares enough to cry about this.
You’re speechless. You stand across from him, just as still as you were the day you learned you were pregnant.
“Home,” he replies, voice thin. He’s been staying at the house, ignoring everyone. When he gets stir crazy, he goes to the club. Either way, he’s been a shell of himself, carrying his sorrow wherever he goes.
“This is home,” you say softly. You look down at the floor, your brows pinched. “What happened? We used to be…”
“What? In love?” he mutters.
“Happy.” You meet his glossy eyes. “Now all we do is fight.”
“And whose fucking fault is that?” he mutters. You scoff incredulously.
“It takes two, Rafe,” you snap. “Is that why you bailed? Because things got tough? Your baby needs you.”
“But do you need me?” he says. His words render you speechless. An even harder, colder tension grows between you.
“You said you’d be fine if I didn’t love you anymore,” he says lowly.
“I meant…” You take a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t love me anymore,” he mutters. “You’ll leave. I’ll barely see him. What’s the point in delaying it?”
Your head is muddled. Normally, you’d put your hand on his when he spins out like this. Talk him down. But he has hurt you so much lately that touching him would feel unnatural.
“I’d never keep your son away from you,” you say.
“But you would break up me,” he says. You’re so angry at him that giving him any sort of reassurance feels like a betrayal to your pain. He doesn’t deserve the consoling.
But then you notice a tear roll down his cheek and your heart softens.
“Is that why you’ve been like this?” you ask.
Over the past few weeks, Rafe realized he was always scared of being abandoned. Under thick layers of anger and disdain, he fears inadequacy. And why not leave before he’s left?
He stares at you in silence, as if saying his fears out loud will make them come true.
“It’s not on me. You stopped loving me a long time ago,” you say, allowing him to see a crack in your armor.
“I never…” he begins resolutely. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
“And this is how you treat somebody you love? By giving up?” you say. “I’ve been doing everything alone. Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?”
Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, the guilt he’s been repressing flooding him all at once. He knows he’s failing you. Failing your family.
He won’t say anything else. He can’t.
“If you’re sleeping here tonight, you can take the couch,” you say, pacing out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to even lie next to you.”
Rafe doesn’t give into the impulse to leave, even though his fears and anxieties are screaming at him to. He settles onto the couch. It takes him an hour to fall asleep.
When you wake up to your son’s crying from the nursery at dawn, you hear Rafe’s soft, tired voice consoling him. You drift back off into sleep, sure he’ll call you for help within minutes.
When consciousness slowly pulls you out of your slumber, you can tell by the brightness in your room that it’s well past sunrise. When you check your phone, you’re shocked to see that you slept until noon.
You head downstairs, your chest tightening when you see Rafe playing with your son, his smile bright.
Rafe’s blue eyes meet yours. He gave you the gift of rest, something you’ve been dying for.
“I’m not giving up,” Rafe says. “If you break up with me, I want to know that at least, I… I tried my hardest.”
“If you try your hardest, I won’t break up with you,” you tell him, still harboring hostility.
Instead of arguing with you, Rafe simply nods. You’re shocked he doesn’t have a nasty retort.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says, planting a kiss on your son’s head, earning giggles from him. “Both of you.”
His tone and gaze are so sincere that you almost believe him. It’ll take a while for you to trust him again, but he’ll wait it out as long as he needs to.
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servicpop · 2 days
Text
TOJI FUSHIGURO ⋆⋆⋆ msg series(?) pt.1
NSFW › toji has no filter and is just one big pervert
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It was a Saturday evening and you were settled on the carpet of your living room with your hands propped against the coffee table. You had an array of different colored nail polish lined up as you stared at them, debating which one to wear today. You enjoyed nail polish — even though it was seen as 'too feminine,' you thought painting your nails was a calming activity to do after long days of work. As you sat crossed legged on the floor, Toji was lazily draped over the couch, watching you silently.
He didn't care at all that you wore nail polish, sometimes you'd even convince him to wear some himself but he always stuck to plain black. He noticed your little situation, observing the way your eyes scanned over the options and the cogs turn in your head. It really wasn't that hard he thought.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Toji questioned, his voice smooth but had a certain rasp to it from his nap 20 minutes ago. His voice catches your attention and you break away from your little trance, turning to face him, you explain your "crisis". It was an innocent question from him at first, until the corners of his scarred lips curled up and a shit-eating grin plastered on Toji's face.
"I have an idea," He starts slowly. You knew he was up to no good when he had that scheming smile, "Make your nails the color of my dick." You stare at him. You blink once, twice, maybe four times while you try and form a reply to that sentence.
"Huh?" Finally, a word comes out your mouth and you find yourself increasingly confused and pretty shocked the more you thought about it. Toji had no shame. "I don't– i don't have a color that matches..." Toji took some time to prop himself up with his elbows before pointing at one of your polishes.
"That pink one is pretty close," he pointed out, "Here, let's do a lil' color match yeah?" Before you could even react, Toji pushes himself off the couch and walks over to where you're sat, picking up the pink-ish nail polish and holding it in his palm. His other hand hooks the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls it down just enough. It was all so sudden, you weren't ready to be flashed! Its not like you haven't seen his body before, more like it still made you nervous seeing it. Heat spread through your cheeks and your head immediately turned to the side, a hand flew up to shield your poor eyes from Toji's shameless display.
"Pretty close," Toji scoffed with a smile. His eyebrows raised when he saw you shielding your eyes and he placed down the nail polish before turning to you, "Don't act like you haven't seen it plenty of times before," He laughed, letting his waistband snap back into place before curling his arms around your waist, picking you up with ease. He lifted you as if you were a stray kitten, moving to gently bend you over the coffee table, using his body weight to hold you flush against the glass.
"I think that color matches your skin real well doll," His voice dropped an octave and became more heavier and sultry. As he kept you pinned between his body and the table, he took this chance to pull off his sweatpants and slide yours off as well. "You can't see but—" He tapped his cock against the curve of your ass, observing how the color of his tip contrasted nicely with your skin, "—it's perfect." His large hand went to grab the flesh of your cheek, spreading it apart so he could see your cute hole all eager for him. Seemed like your body wasn't as pure as you were. He wasn't going to bother fishing for lube so he leaned back and spat a glob over your entrance, using his tip to shallowly smear it across your hole.
He pushed in slowly, groaning as he felt warmth surround his dick. He loved the way you felt. Loved the way your walls would give his cock a warm welcome and a tight hug. His hands — that were placed on your hips — moved to underneath your shirt, feeling your soft, supple skin under his calloused fingers. His fingers kept groping at your skin, tugging at the places were you had a little more plush than others before moving to cup your chest, ghosting over your now hard nipples. You couldn't help but whimper at that, the way his fingers so gently tickled your chest like that had you squirming and Toji for sure noticed it.
"You're cute, you know that?" He breathed in softly, taking in the scent of your shampoo as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hands still touching and caressing your torso. "Makes me wanna bite you," Toji growled against your shoulder, grazing his teeth along your skin but never actually sinking them into you, "But you're too pretty for that, seeing as the way you wanna doll yourself up all the time, bet you'd be mad if I leave an ugly mark hm?" His tone was so degrading it almost offended you but that feeling of offense was soon ignored once Toji pulled out and slammed back into you.
His dick rubbed against your prostate everytime he thrusted; at this point it was bullying with the way his cock aimed for your weak spots over and over again. The table creaked underneath your combined weight and the nail polishes on the desk rattled, threatening to fall over. Small strings of moans and mewls let your mouth as Toji kept pounding into you with his hands toying with your sensitive nipples. The stimulation was too much, you felt yourself try and wriggle out of his grasp, attempting to regain a little bit of your composure, but Toji just kept you pressed against the table and his fingers pinched at your buds.
"You can take it, I know you can. I've done worse to you," Toji hummed in your ear, you could practically feel the bass of his voice tickle your brain. He really was your weakness. He was being arguably nice to you right now. Toji really did have a thing for overstimulation and he loved seeing your brain go numb from all the pleasure he gives you.
You find yourself leaking, dripping pre onto your pants that pooled at your knees — luckily it didn't get on the carpet, that would be a pain to clean — and your eyes were rolling back, something you did when you were about to cum. You could tell Toji was too, his groans got louder and his cock pulsed inside you, waiting to spill. "Just a little more yeah?" He cooed, trailing his hands up to your collarbones and then to your neck, squeezing your adam's apple gently. Having your neck cradled like this made you feel somewhat vulnerable, especially considering how strong Toji was, but that was what made it all the more pleasurable, knowing that you were safe with Toji.
His cock grinded against your prostate once more and it sent you off the edge, a high whine left your throat as your toes curled and white spurted all over your pants. "Attaboy," He grumbled into your ear before thrusting into you one more time, groaning as he held your waist close to his body, making sure you took all of it.
Toji fully relaxed ontop of you, making you groan in protest from his crushing weight. "Y'know I heard that the best lipstick color is the colour of your nipple, maybe you should do that with your nails." He lifted you off the table, allowing you to look down at yourself but you slapped his hand away before he did anything stupid.
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a/n : short little toji fic i wanted to write + some tests with layout, i also wrote this all in one day so its probably not that good TT
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harryslittlefreakk · 2 days
Text
arrogant s.o.b
summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?
warnings: angst
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!
my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading
“I miss you, Harry.”
You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.
“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”
“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”
“Why?! For what?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.
“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.
“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.
He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?
Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.
He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.
His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.
Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.
He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.
You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.
“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.
“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.
And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.
As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.
“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.
“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.
He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”
“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.
“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”
“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.
“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.
All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.
“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.
“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.
You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.
“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.
“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.
You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”
Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”
“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.
“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.
You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.
“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.
“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.
“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.
“Hm?”
“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever
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reidssluttywaist · 2 days
Text
Spencer's lap.
In which you grind against your boyfriend.
fem!reader, season 2 Spencer, +16.
tags: dry humping, a little bit of dirtytalk.
a/n: guys this is so bad I've never written smut before but i had this idea while rewatching season 2 and tried something, this must have a bunch of mistakes and it's not proofread at all, also if anyone wants to rewrite this better please message me lol.
You never thought you'd have to sit for a physics class ever again since you left high school, and here you are, a half hour into your boyfriend explaining very throughly to you how he can make a rocket with 'physics magic', he also made you swear you would never tell his tricks to anybody, 'cause a magician never shares his secrets, right?!
Except you didn't get sleepy like you did in high school, you never paid that much attention to physics since now, the way Spencer's smile explains every detail, the giggle he lets out as he rumbles about different facts of all the physics laws, you're amazed by how happy he is, how his brain is extraordinary.
Hearing his humbles is better than any music you could think of, and paired with the soft sound of the rain falling outside Spencer's place, you feel so cozy and safe.
You and Spencer have been together for a couple of months now, he is your first real boyfriend, both of you are inexperienced in every single part of being in a relationship, sometimes the feeling of love you feel towards him overwhelms you, almost leaving you out of breath, you can't believe how good it is to love somebody, how god it is to love Spencer.
"Wow, that one might be your best! Look how high it went" you said after his most recent "rocket" made its way to the ceiling, Spencer smiling so big and laughing, making you laugh as well.
"Did you see that? I think I've perfected my measurements it's so high!!" Spencer says with a high-pitched voice, too excited to contain himself.
"The only bad thing about this is that you have to clean this mess up" You make a sad face, looking at the place that has little bits of water splashed all over.
"Nah, it's fine! It'll dry out soon enough" he says pretending that he doesn't care about the mess, except he does.
"C'mon, I'll help you clean and make us some dinner after, ok?!" You get up from your side of the couch, and hold Spencer's hand, trying to pull him up.
"I don't wanna get up now, it can wait," He says seriously, you can almost believe him.
You try pushing him up again, but this time he pulls you against him, being more successful than you do you end up falling onto him, sitting on his lap facing him.
"I said it can wait, I can clean up later, ok? I wanna spend some time with you now." He said holding your waist and looking at you.
You've never been on his lap before, you guys make out now and then, but never in that suggestive of a position, and Spencer never makes the first move like that, you feel your stomach filling with butterflies.
"You look so good with your glasses on" You blurt it out looking at him, analyzing his face as he looks at you.
"Can I kiss you?" Spencer says, you don't need words to respond as you press your lips onto his, starting a gentle kiss.
You'll never get accustomed to kissing Spencer, his soft lips, he's so gentle almost like he's afraid you'll run away if he makes any sudden moves, little does he know you won't, you'd never run away from him you feel like you could never get enough from him.
The kiss was now way more intense, your tongue exploring his, his grip on your waist a lot tighter now, one of his hands let go of your waist and made its way to the back of your neck, making you let out a soft moan into Spencer's mouth, making his body shiver under you.
Your hips start slightly moving over Spencer's thigh, the light friction making you want more.
Spencer was breathing heavily, and you could also feel him growing against your leg, he pulled you harder against him, adjusting your cunt to be right on top of his cock, applying pressure to your hips, you moan again, and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second.
"Spence, wanna feel you." You say in between kisses, making him whimper and push you harder against him.
"Fuck" he swears under his breath, both of his hands going to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. "That okay?" he asks.
"Yes, please." You've never agreed to something so fast in your life, helping him take your pants away, after a few seconds of struggling you were back to kissing him like your life depended on it.
"C-can I take yours?" you whisper, almost scared to say it, he agrees by guiding your hand to his waistband, also helping you take his pants now, you were both only with underwear now, not even bothering to take your tops off, you went back to humping him, your thin underwear fabric soaked.
Spencer's shaky hands made their way onto your shirt, both of them massing your breasts, making noises come out of your mouth and the man under you groan.
"N-need more, Spence." You say grinding your hips harder against him, and bring your hands to his underwear pushing it down just enough so his cock is free.
You start to use your hands on him, slow up and down movements just enough so he can't even keep his eyes open.
"Want your pussy, please, wanna feel you" Spencer mumbles taking your hands off his cock, his hand going to your panties and ripping them out.
That made you gasp, making your pussy even more wet.
Spencer positioned you on his cock, which was resting on his stomach, you started moving your hips up and down, both of you moaning even louder now.
"You feel so warm, baby, you're so wet for me," He says, looking at where your bodies are rubbing against each other, he looks mesmerized by this sight, mouth slightly opened as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you shiver.
Spencer never dirty talked like that before, you could see the blush on his cheeks as he did, this new side of him making your mind blurry and a not start to form on your stomach.
"I'm so close," he says, biting his lips as you try to move even harder for him.
"N-eed more, please, your fingers," you say and he immediately knows what you mean, taking one of his hands out of your hips and bringing it to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit with ease, start moving it in circles making you let out a loud moan.
"Fuck" You let out, not able to keep your eyes open.
"Can you cum for me? Please baby wanna see your pretty face as you fuck yourself on me." Spencer says, that added with his movements in your clit make your mind fuzzy, you felt the heat on your stomach spread to your legs and your body starts to shake, releasing all the tension you were feeling.
"Oh, you're so pretty like that, so pretty when you cum for me," Spencer says, helping you ride out your climax, you were so sensitive by the recent orgasms but you started to move your hips harder and faster on Spencer's cock.
He bites his lips and you feel him grip your ass, his glasses were blurry and it was so hot that he didn't take him out.
He groaned when you felt his dick twit under you, you helped him through his orgasm, kissing him when you were both done, his hands when to your back caressing it, slowly moving up and down.
"That was so good" He whispers to you.
"A dirty talker, huh?! Who would've thought?" you joke, making him laugh.
"Most men are dirty talkers so it's not that uncommon" he rumbles.
He switched up to nerdy Spencer again, making you smile.
You spend a couple more minutes just talking before getting up, you make sure to point all that he must buy you a new pair of panties to pay for the one he ripped, he agrees, saying he would buy more than one because "you'll never know what might happen, right?"
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caitlinbueckers · 16 hours
Text
baby daddy.
paige bueckers x reader
3.2k
like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3
ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.
MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!
“babe.”
it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.
in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.
“dude, you’re kidding,”
“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”
to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.
which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.
‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.
‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”
you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.
truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.
“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.
it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.
in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, black, privacy sack swinging between her fingers.
“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.
“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.
you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.
no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.
not like paige was any better.
it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.
“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”
you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.
“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“
KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.
the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.
it makes you think.
it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”
it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.
“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.
“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.
surprisingly, she looks just as interested.
it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”
you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.
“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”
“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”
paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”
it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”
“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”
it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”
she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.
“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”
it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.
still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.
she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.
she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”
it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.
“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.
it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”
“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.
it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.
it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”
it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.
“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.
for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.
“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.
and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.
before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”
it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.
it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.
“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.
this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.
“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”
it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.
she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.
it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.
“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.
“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”
it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”
“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.
you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.
besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye im moving rooms’.
you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.
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lqveharrington · 2 days
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If Only | L.M.
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summary: You and Lucifer were bond through the soulmate system, but how could you be soulmates when he had Lilith?
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x fallen seraphim!reader
includes: kinda soulmate au? fluff, angst, mentions of death, lucifer feeling like a bad parent (that’s pretty much it, let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: i wrote this at night the other day. toward the very end i was very proud of what i wrote 😭🙏 time for my requests i’ve gotten !!!
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Ever since Lilith left Lucifer seven years ago, he never expected to meet another who made his heart soar. He fell into a deep state of depression and only started to get out more when Charlie invited him to stay at the hotel after the latest extermination. He got his own royal suite and joined in on Charlie’s lessons, but it still wasn’t enough to keep up with his daughter’s upbeat attitude every day.
It wasn’t enough to help pull him out of his depression until you came along to the hotel.
The moment you stepped into the hotel and greeted Charlie with the same enthusiasm made him smile. It was just another plus that you were a fallen angel, more so a fallen seraphim. And he swore that when you first met his gaze for that split second your eyes glowed pink as he felt his eyes do the same. He thought that would never happen again, but here he stood with an adoring face while you spoke to his daughter like you’ve known her since she was a child.
Soon enough, you and Lucifer were introduced to one another properly, the pink glow in both your eyes returning.
“It’s nice to meet the head man himself.” You grin as he kisses the back of your hand. “And such a gentleman as well.”
“What can I say? I’m quite the ladies' man.” He winked as he saw you burn bright.
As months passed since your first official interaction, you and Lucifer grew closer, bonding on your similar and different experiences. Whether you bonded over one of Charlie’s redemption activities or relaxed in his suite, you both found contentment in each other, letting each other enjoy the company.
“You know, I’m not going to relax when you keep tugging my book away.” You grab his wrist as he reaches for the book for the nth time in thirty minutes. “I’m going to leave your room.”
“Please don’t.” He tugged you closer to his side, head resting on your shoulder. “I don’t want to move from this spot again.”
You tilt your head toward him, eyes glowing a faint pink. “Then let me read.” You let a small smile slip through when he grumbled an incoherent sentence.
Lucifer’s eyes softened when you returned to read your book, watching your eyes scan the words in front of you. His mind and heart racing a million miles per hour whenever you were around. He couldn’t decide what was right. Was his heart telling him to move on? Or was it just aching to be affectionate with another?
The signs were pointing in different ways, but surely the answer was right in front of him. He just had to understand what it was before the magic between you two would fully disappear.
“Staring is highly distracting, Luce.” Your eyes flit up to meet him again. “I can’t focus.”
“You must really like me then.” He gave you a cocky grin
You roll your eyes, shutting the book. “You’ve ruined the book for me. I’m never going to finish that book now.”
“That book wasn’t good anyways.” He brought the comforter up and over the both of you. He locked his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his front. You felt yourself loosen up by his touch, letting out a small breath of exhaustion. “I’m spent after all the bonding activities today, beautiful. I think we can skip our kitchen run tonight and just go to bed.”
“Were you really waiting for me to finish reading so we could sleep?” You murmur as you feel him nod. You let out a small laugh, “Wow, I would have never stooped so low.”
Lucifer shushed you, “I’m sleeping, good night.”
A soft smile takes over your burning face, turning in his arms to face him. “Good night, Luce.”
He didn’t say anything else but quietly played with your hair, listening to your steady breathing as sleep consumed you. Lucifer always made sure you fell asleep first, wanting you to get a good night's sleep before he did. Yet, he didn’t exactly know when you both went from friends to whatever this was, but he wasn’t complaining if he got to see you sleep in his arms every once in a while.
And it wasn’t like Lucifer was the only one to notice your unusual relationship with one another. You noticed it as well. From the soft touches to the sleepovers at his suite, you knew it was more than just a simple friendship. But what could you do when he still wore his wedding ring?
“What’s happening?” You lay your legs across Lucifer’s lap, taking a glance at the news channel cast upon his suite’s television.
Lucifer rubbed your calf, golden ring a cold contrast to his warm fingers. “They’re interviewing Charlie for her hotel. They know how the extermination happened this year, so I’m hoping the questions are more targeted toward how her hotel will work than how it was fighting angels.”
You frown at the feel of his ring, even more so when he mentions the death of angels. “What happened the last time they interviewed her?”
He scoffed, “They were so rude to her. I mean, I understand we’re in Hell, but she’s their fucking princess. They only brought down her ideas, not asking enough about how she intends to accomplish redemption. I wish I could have done something back then, you know? Show them why I’m the King of Hell.”
You reach across to link a hand with his, giving him a small smile when he meets your glowing pink eyes that match his pair. “Luce, you’re a wonderful parent. I know you want to protect your daughter, but it’s in the past. She knows you love her and look at you two now! You’re supporting her dreams and whatever lies in store for them.”
“Thank you…” He felt the golden ring become heavy on his finger, an uncomfortable weight that was never there appearing. “You’re not half bad of a parent yourself.”
“What?” You let out a confused laugh, thumbing his hand. “I’m not anyone’s parent.”
“Yeah, but—“ He gestured toward the television where they switched the camera toward Charlie before switching to a quick commercial break. “—You've been more of a mother to Charlie than her biological mother in one year. The second you stepped into this hotel, she lit up around you.” His downturned smile grew bigger when you tilted your head. “Charlie may be a very trusting person, but she knows when someone is going to support her with anything she accomplishes. You were one of those people.”
You feel yourself warm at the small confrontation, “I’m sure she thinks of me as any other resident at the hotel, Luce. Don’t boost my ego, you have enough for the both of us.”
“Hey now.” He squeezed your leg. “I’m being nice, and you’re just hurling insults at my face.”
“Me? Never.”
He continued to rub a small pattern, thoughts running back and forth before turning back to you. “I’m serious though. She really loves you… Almost as much as I do.”
Your eyes widened, meeting his eyes that were now glowing a much brighter pink than usual. “You… I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I admire you a lot, beautiful.” He confessed, confidence boosting his voice. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, and not just because of your looks. You handled Charlie better than I did in the last seven years, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to let her be herself when I’m not around.”
Your eyes glowed brighter at his words, squeezing his hand. “Lucifer, I admire you as much as you love Charlie, but it’s a matter of soulmates versus those of the past.” You gesture toward his ring, pursing your lips at the sight. “Are you sure you’re truly ready to move on? From the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never taken that ring off.”
“I’m sure.” He let his hand holding yours drift up to cradle your cheek, snapping his finger to get rid of the ring and away in his back drawer. “She’s left me for almost a whole decade, I think I have the permission to move on.”
You melt into his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “If it’s what you really want, Luce.”
“It is.” He left a small kiss at your temple. “Because I know you’ll still be with me when all of Hell falls apart and all my magic is gone.”
“You’re so cheesy.” You lean back on the couch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Will you officially be mine, Lucifer Morningstar?”
“Always, beautiful.” He kept your hands linked as he pressed a promise kiss to your ring finger. “Always.”
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