Tumgik
#not all of it but enough that this amuses me
rodolfoparras · 3 days
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Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)
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Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader
Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow
Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.
Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.
Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.
Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.
“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.
His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.
“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.
Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.
So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”
A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”
And you’re so so close yet so far away.
He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“
“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.
“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.
There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”
“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.
With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.
Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.
“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”
This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.
It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.
Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”
By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack
“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.
Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.
“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.
It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.
“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.
“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.
Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.
“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”
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moonstruckme · 3 days
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Hiiii!I hope your doing great I saw your requests just opened and I was wondering if you would mind doing a poly emt marauders with a reader that’s in hospital and they don’t know until they’re like bringing in someone in or something and their like why didn’t you tell us and she’s like oh cause I didn’t want you to worry.Something like that if not it’s fine have a good day!!!🌊
Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Not super sure if this is accurate since I don’t think paramedics usually spend much time inside the hospital but oh well haha. Hope you have a good day too! <3
cw: hospital/emergency room, mention of broken bone
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 827 words
You’re just on your way out of A&E, feeling sore and shattered and more than a little sorry for yourself, when someone says your name. With an odd mix of relief and trepidation mingling in your chest, you turn. 
Sirius makes it to your first. He takes your face in his hands, eyes scanning it over thoroughly before starting to make their way down your body. “Baby, what’s happened?” 
“Hey,” you say, “what are you doing here?” 
“Um, no.” James gives you a funny-looking smile, amusement tangled up with worry. “It’s fairly normal for us to be here, what are you doing here?” 
“I, um—” 
“Idiots.” Remus bypasses them both, taking your injured hand gently and holding it up where your other boyfriends can see it. “What happened here, lovely?” 
“I broke my finger,” you admit. 
Sirius looks devastated, though with the splint binding your two fingers together you thought it was fairly obvious. “How?” 
“Shut it in my car door.” 
James winces and Remus tsks compassionately, turning your hand so he can see the injured digit from another angle. 
“How long have you been here?” he asks.
You shrug, not quite looking at any of them. “I had to wait a while. A few hours.” 
Remus’ look lets you know your sheepishness isn’t without good reason. “Did you drive yourself like this?” 
You nod meekly. 
“Angel!” James wraps his arms around you, tucking your head underneath his chin, and you go happily. You’ll take his mollycoddling over Remus’ reproachful stare any day. “Why didn’t you call us? I can’t believe you had to sit here all by yourself.” 
“I knew you were busy at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Now Sirius is glaring at you, too. You snuggle further into James’ embrace. “It wasn’t so bad.” 
“Did they have to set it?” Sirius asks. 
Your face heats. “Yeah. It was pretty weird-looking when it first happened.” 
James makes a pitiful whining sound. “Poor love.” 
“How long did they tell you it’d take to heal?” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat gentler now. He finally relinquishes your injured hand to Sirius, who starts turning it about and inspecting it in the same manner, like the doctor who splinted it for you might not have done a good enough job. 
“Six to eight weeks,” you say glumly. It already feels annoyingly constraining not being able to bend either of those fingers; you’re not sure how you’re supposed to deal with it for weeks on end. 
The boys exchange a look, and James drops the protective circle of his arms from around you. “I’m going to go find Amelia,” he says, “see if she’s on break.” 
You clutch at his shirt with your good hand. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper. 
Your boyfriend smiles, dropping a kiss on your head. “Sorry, lovie.” 
“I think we ought to feel insulted,” Sirius comments as James walks away. Remus only shrugs. 
He reaches for your face now that it’s not hidden under James’ chin, wiping frownily at something on your cheek. 
“Are you feeling alright now, dove?” he asks, and you veritably liquefy at the tenderness in his voice. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but it really wasn’t awful.” 
Sirius gives your wrist an admonishing little squeeze. “You have tear marks on your face,” he contradicts you softly. 
“Oh.” You run a finger under your eyes, feeling your face heat. 
Remus tuts and lets his hand against the side of your neck, thumb stroking at your jaw. “We’re only on shift for another hour,” he tells you. “James is finding our friend Amelia so you can stay in the break room with her until we can come back and get you, okay?” 
You shake your head, and his stare hardens but you say anyway, “I don’t need to be babysat. I can get home on my own.” 
“You shouldn’t be driving after having anesthetic.” 
You narrow your eyes. “Wouldn’t they have told me if that were the case?” 
“We don’t want you driving with a numb hand,” Sirius clarifies. When you turn your attention to him, he gives you a stern look. “You should have called us in the first place. Just let us do what we can for you now, okay?” 
You sigh in resignation just as James comes up behind you again. Seeing as no one has taken over hug duty, he wraps both arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. 
“Okay,” you tell Sirius. 
“Oh, excellent. All on the same page, are we?” James turns his head to smooch your cheek. “Knew you’d come around, angel. Amelia’s ready for you, so you can hang in the break room until we get back.” 
“Is she going to baby me too?” you joke, letting him steer you towards the hallway. 
“Probably not,” Sirius says, “but don’t you worry, sweetness. We’ll make up for that when we get you home.” 
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rafesmuse · 2 days
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how do you think rafes baddie girlfriend would react to him trying to be possessive and controlling of her at a party?
god, she would have none of it. she’s her own person who knows exactly what she wants and will never let a man, including rafe, tell her what she can and cannot do. it frustrates and irritates him. he wants you to be all his, even though you already are— but it never seems to be enough for him.
you can feel rafe’s burning eyes following you with every move you make at the party, your hips swaying to the beat as you have your arms wrapped around your friend while dancing with her. he taps his rings restlessly against the glass beer bottle while glancing around the room with narrowed eyes, taking in all the guys who are staring at you with lust.
he tries not to lose his cool, knowing you fucking hate it when he's controlling, but when he notices some drunk guys talking to each other while pointing at his girl, he has had enough. rafe could easily guess what they were talking about, almost recognising his old, single self and his friends in that group, treating girls like objects to be used solely for their pleasure— the thought of them doing the same to you causes anger to rage through his entire body.
you’re in your own world, nothing on your mind except the music pounding in your ears, when all of a sudden you feel a strong hand wrapped around your arm, causing you to flinch before seeing your boyfriend’s towering frame standing over you, his intense blue eyes gazing down at you.
“cut that shit out, yeah? everyone in this goddamn room is practically eye fucking you, for fucks sake. you gotta behave, makin’ me look like a fucking idiot here.” “behave? rafe, helloo?! i’m literally just dancing? you’re so fucking dramatic, holy fucking shit. now either join me or leave— but i think i already know the answer to that, mr. stiff hips.” you snap, looking him up and down with a disapproving expression on your face, not in the slightest bit amused by his controlling behaviour.
he scoffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance,“if that’s how you wanna play this, then a’ight”, eyes momentarily leaving yours as he rubs his face with his mind racing, before returning his gaze to you. “but by the end of the night, you’re gonna fucking regret it.” “yeah yeah, whatever tough boy, we’ll see about that.”
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willowser · 3 days
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HMMMMMM interesting to think about arranged marriage with prince shouto...............
i think he wouldn't know. what to expect with you. i think he'd have an idea, as in, what his father, the king, has taught him; the duties of a wife, where your importance ranks in relation to his duties. what he's not meant to discuss with you, like politics and matters at court and foreign relations. how you will speak to him. what to buy in the event that you become...unhappy. a nuisance.
("and she will," enji had muttered, briefly glancing up from the parchment on his desk to fix shouto with a look he didn't understand. "they always do.")
you don't meet until the royal wedding, when you're coming down the long aisle of the grand cathedral, dressed up in a swathe of silk and lace. a thin, gossamer veil hides you from him, but he can feel the ardor in your eyes, the intensity burning through the material. it doesn't seem real until your bare face is only a breath from his own, until he has to see the earnestness in your stare, too.
your kiss is simple and chaste, nothing spectacular, something that leaves his mind as soon as it's over. ever a todoroki, a hundred other things enter his mind, all regarding his now iron-laid obligations: it's vital he meet with advisor keigo to reiterate the plan to establish his authority among the council; general aizawa is in attendance to the wedding, and shouto has not yet received word on his opinion of the new king's ideas to modernize their armed forces; midoriya is somewhere, no doubt wanting to go over state affairs again.
truthfully, shouto doesn't spend long "celebrating". there's already too much that's required of him, hardly enough time to even scarf down a few bites of the banquet laid out before he's being chartered off into discussions on foreign relations and infrastructure development. maybe once or twice does he look back to check on you, chatting pleasantly with his mother and sister at the front of the great hall, and that's satisfying enough.
it's not until much later that he sees you again; freshly bathed and wearing something sheer and long and white, atop his bed.
or his marriage bed, he must remind himself.
enji didn't spend long going over consummation, with him or either of his brothers—natsuo, red-faced and annoyed at the very subject, always storming off, and touya had seemed well-aware of the process, at the time (back before he'd been ex-communicated). it had sounded simple: strip off your dress, get his cock out and into you, and only retreat once he was sure his seed had been spilled.
—so he's not exactly sure what to do or think or how to feel, when you're laid bare and reaching up to hold his face.
it's so startling that he sits back on his knees, to frown where he's looming over you.
you stare at him quietly, like you're expecting him to say something, and he only has a moment to wonder if this is you becoming an unhappy nuisance—what had been the answer, to solve this, anyway?—before you let out a soft laugh.
"c'mere," you tell him, sitting up, too, when he keeps his distance. "i want you to kiss me."
"i already have."
"yes," you laugh again, amusement glowing in your eyes, like the warmth off the fireplace, as you reach for the ties on his trousers. "but you're meant to do it again."
and up until then, he'd felt confident in his achievements, his executions; he'd managed a lot today, in one evening, and he had a lifetime to manage more. it was a good a start as any, he'd thought, but now—
shouto almost can't get the words out when he feels your hands ghosting up the inside of his shirt, nails tickling over his ribs. "a-am i?"
you wrap your arms around his waist in what could be a hug, scooting forward to look up at him with your chin against his chest. "yes," you smile and—it's familiar in a way, how touya would whenever he was teasing. "you're my husband, you're meant to kiss me whenever i want."
that—was not something his father had ever said, he was sure, and it was a too-rare exchange between his own parents. now that he thinks about it—and he does, then, because he's faced with the reality that he doesn't know as much as he should—he's not sure the former king and queen even sleep in the same room, much less the same bed.
much less hug and touch and even smile, the way you do now.
there's no argument he can make against it, aside from finding keigo to find his father to verify the truth to such a statement, and he's only meant to retreat from this bed on one condition.
and if this is what it takes to meet that—then shouto supposes he'll have to do it, for now. he's a brand new king, after all, and it would seem he still has much to learn.
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g0niki · 2 days
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camera's on: take two ── y.jw p.js
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camera's on (pt.1) (read me first!!!)
pairing: bf!jungwon x afab!reader x classmate!jay
word count: 2.3k+
content: no protection (don't be like them.), oral (m&f receiving), mxm (no penetration, but more than kissing), exhibitionism, dom!jay, switch!won, sub!reader, jw and reader are no thoughts head empty, creampies, recording. lmk if i missed anything! minors dni.
a/n: i was feeling silly and i didn't proof read🤸. please share your thoughts with me in the comments, reblogs, or my inbox! I also won't be adding more to 'camera's on' (at least as of right now) but i will still write for jaywon and other duos!! going to try and write more about the other members 🤞
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jungwon had been standing on the tip of his toes for the whole week, eager for the upcoming friday. 
won bit on the end of his pencil, uninterested in his lecture about the mayan empire and the legacy they left behind. his focus was completely locked in on the analog clock dangling above the exit. the hands ticking and taunting him with every passing second, the pencil sitting in between his teeth being bent up as he bit down harder and harder.
unfortunately, the first tape had been lost but luckily for him, jay was feeling generous enough to allow another session free of charge (as long as he would have a feature). 
he knew you would already be home getting ready, probably letting jay get comfortable and set up while he’s forced to miss out on even the smallest of interactions. 
the thought of you and jay getting started up without him almost being enough to make him leave his lecture early.. yet at the same time he wouldn’t mind.
god, he hopes that’s what the two of you are doing. 
and just before he could get lost in the thought, imagining jay’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue as he rushes down the hall of your shared apartment, his professor is dismissing the class.
【☆】★【☆】
jungwon fumbles with his keys, struggling to get the right one into the keyhole. his bag tugging down on his shoulder as he fumbles with the doorknob, forcing his way into the small apartment.
only to be welcomed by silence. 
he knew you were home, you hadn’t told him about a change of plans. he lets his bag fall onto the floor next to your couch, eyeing the two pairs of shoes next to the entrance, clearly indicating the presence of both you and jay. 
“baby? did you guys set up?” he calls out as he creeps towards the room, the only place you and jay could be.
his stomach turned, anticipating what was going on behind the closed door. he could hear jay’s hushed whispers, the conversation between you too being inaudible. 
jungwon opened the door to the very scene he was wishing for. you were sitting between jay’s legs, your own splayed open as the older boy spread your folds,  the camera pointing directly towards the two of you. 
“good girl, you held in your sounds til jungwon could make it home.” jay used his free hand to push back the sweaty strands of hair off of your face. 
your cheeks were flushed, your face scrunched up as you used all your might to try and not make a single sound. 
“she’s waiting on you won,” jungwon's jaw slightly dropped, admiring the sight of the two of you. your naked forms pressed up against each other and waiting for him.
“you can let it all out now pretty.” the moment you heard your boyfriend’s smooth voice you were throwing your head back against jay’s shoulder, a strained moan leaving your throat as your back slightly arched and you forced your pelvis further into jay’s hand.
jay hadn’t even put his fingers inside of you, only playing with your clit and tracing the outsides of your hole lightly. he wouldn’t go as far as penetrating you in any sort of way without your boyfriend around and he was glad he didn’t. the way you were dripping down onto his fingers and leaving his hand soaked was amusing to him. 
you were so easy to toy with, almost as if you had never been fucked. and that made him want to tease you even more.
“why don’t you come warm up too jungwon?” jay so easily picked you up, moving your body next to him and signaling won to him. “this week looks like it’s been hard to you, hasn’t it?”
jungwon dumbly nodded, walking over to stand in between jay’s open legs. 
“mm, both of you are too dumb to use your words today. maybe if i help you relax a bit you’ll start speaking up, yeah pretty boy?” 
jay’s hands found jungwon’s, the older boy standing up to now tower over him. moving the two of them around and giving jungwon his former place on the edge of the bed. 
you watched in awe as jay tugged down jungwon’s loose sweats. freeing his painfully hard and swollen member, letting it slap against his hoodie. 
won moaned at the feeling, his sensitive tip rubbing against the cotton material and leaving a dab of precum. 
“both of you are so needy, look at this.” jay lightly blew on jungwon’s tip, his cock jumping in response.
“please hyung.” won’s voice was whiney, and you clenched your legs together watching. your boyfriend’s needy response has you pouting, you hated seeing him not get taken care of.
“come on jay, he’s asking nicely.” you crawled up behind your boyfriend, sitting on your knees and placing light kisses and licks along your boyfriend’s neck. 
“oh, so you can speak?” jay laughed lightly, slapping jungwon’s thigh just to get a reaction. “lucky i’m feeling extra nice today.”
before the two of you could even process it, jay is wrapping his lips around jungwon’s cock. his tongue gently tracing the underside of his tip, won’s body shuddering in response.
jay didn’t bother to take any more of jungwon in his mouth, only paying the swollen end any attention. the both of you knew not to ask for more.
jay’s eyes looking up at the both of you. you were doing your best to feel included, marking up every open surface and leaving the prettiest purple marks on jungwon’s neck, but jay could see the subtle pout on your face. he knew you wanted to feel included. 
he slowly pulled off of jungwon’s tip, letting it rest against his bottom lip for a moment. the saliva serving as a gloss for his lips, jungwon’s member getting more excited by the moment, jumping as jungwon let every single groan and moan leave his throat.
“oh my fucking gosh hyung.” jay wasn’t even doing anything at the current moment yet won felt like he was about to spill all over the cameraman’s face. 
“hey pretty, go grab the camera for me.” your eyes immediately lit up at jay’s command, pushing yourself off the mattress and grabbing the device. “now hand it to jungwonnie and get down here with me.” 
won felt like he was going to faint. the image of you sitting on your knees next to jongseong sends his brain into overdrive. the evident size difference between you two, the rough and dark look jay had in comparison to your soft and head-empty appearance giving him whiplash. 
he watched as jay grabbed the back of your head and had you lean closer to jungwon’s stiff cock, forcefully placing you face-to-face with it.
jay places the tip of jungwon’s cock onto your lips, tapping it against the bottom of your mouth a couple of times, the both of them groaning at the sight.  
“i can’t take this anymore.” 
almost as if it were on cue, jay is leaning forward and sandwiching jungwon’s tip between the two of your lips. his tongue coming out to fight with yours and caress the sensitive end all at the same time.
jungwon’s hands gripped the camera. he could’ve sworn he was hearing colors at this point. 
the way you whined against him was driving him insane. the two tongues providing extra stimulation and the whole view being displayed on the camera’s monitor getting him even harder. 
he could see the tears pricking your eyes, how desperate you were to please him and keep up with jay. 
he felt bad looking at his pretty girl lack so much attention, so he did what any good boyfriend would do. 
he pushed his leg closer to your core, watching as you immediately used it to get yourself off. the material of his sweats rubbing against your clit and giving you the extra energy you needed to drool on his cock and start kissing down the base. 
won tangles his hand in the older’s hair, pulling the boy off of him and admiring his lustful eyes and sharp jaw. 
“what won?” he looked uninterested in what jungwon had to say, if it wasn't for the bulge firmly pressing against his pants jungwon would've almost thought he didn't want to be there.
“look at her. she’ll take anything right now.” won gave jay a fake pout, the two of them watching how you licked up and down won’s member, paying special attention to your favorite vein. 
jay quickly grabbed the camera from won’s hands and focused the lens on you. capturing your eyes pinched tightly together as your hips desperately rutted up and down. 
"holy shit..." won’s neck was thrown back, his member shooting out cum and decorating your cheeks and eyelashes. 
the two of them watch as you swipe the fluid off your face and scoop it into your mouth instead, locking eyes with the camera and giggling.
“camera’s going back up, get on the bed.” jay moves towards the tripod, setting up his camera once again, slightly zooming in and only keeping the bed within the frame. “look at you two, so desperate.”
the camera displays both you and won laying on your sides and sloppily making out. won’s hands clutch at your waist, pulling you closer and rubbing his cock against your clit. the repeated nudging of his head making you whine into his mouth and he can’t help but suck up every single noise you make.
jay lets his cock throb at the view, his head dripping beads of precum as he uses his pointer finger to lightly graze the end of his cock. 
“go on jungwonnie~ fuck her already.” 
you pull away for a moment, hands in his hair and admiring his glassy eyes. “I want it so bad, give it to me please~” you slide your hand between the two of your bodies,  lifting your leg and lining up his member with your entrance. 
jungwon’s hips jump forward on instinct. his dick pushing into you and feeling the warmth of your velvety walls, squeezing his eyes shut and rutting into you. the thrust are short, only pulling out maybe an inch or two before slamming his hips back into yours as he eagerly chases his release. 
“please, fuck- fuck i’m going to cum.” he buries his face into your chest, kissing the tops of your breast. his kisses become messier and messier, leaving marks behind as he speeds up the pace of his hips, his pelvis coming into contact with your clit every time he fucks up into you, ticking you closer and closer to your high . “i’m filling you up- fuck…”.
the warm thick liquid coating your inside, sending you over the edge. he pushes this face into your boobs more, biting down on the supple flesh. his teeth sinking in hard enough to have you squirming, possibly drawing a bit of blood. 
the both of you panting in silence for a moment before jay speaks up, startling the both of you. 
“let’s get our final scene, okay?” he gets in the bed behind you, grabbing your smaller frame and sliding you off of won’s sensitive cock. “gonna make you feel real good princess.” 
he lays flat on his back, pulling you on top of him and pressing your back on top of his chest. his dick now aligned with your cunt, the mixture of you and jungwon dripping down onto his thick shaft.
without warning he’s pushing you down onto his length, won’s cum helping ease the stretch.
“so fucking tight, no wonder he cums so quick.”  jay uses his hand to lightly apply pressure on your lower stomach, heightening the feeling of his dick.
won dumbly watches, his mouth slightly hanging open in awe at the sight. 
“won… need more~” you squeak out to him. you were so close to being gone, his pretty girl being so so good for jay. taking him so well and still wanting more. 
no one would ever be able to satisfy you the way he does. fucking jay, yet still needing him. 
and who was he to deny you?
jungwon crawled over and settled himself between the tangled mess of legs.
leaning down so closely to your stuffed cunt and blowing against it. your body jolting at the feeling, making his eyes light up and a light smirk settle on his lips.
“look at that pretty, the way you clench around him is so cute.” your back arches against jay’s chest. the older wrapping his arms around you to hold you still.
looking down you see won lean in and wrap his soft lips around your clit. suckling on it softly, giving you the last bit of pleasure you needed, but he doesn’t stop there. 
his tongue lolling out of his mouth and moving down to circle your cunt, bringing pleasure to both you and jay. 
jay’s thighs shake at the feeling, and jungwon likes that reaction. 
the younger boy moves down even further, taking jay’s balls into his mouth and sucking on them for a moment before pulling them out of his mouth with a pop. won sticks out his tongue and licks jay from his balls up to where he is inside of you. 
sliding his wet muscle into your cunt alongside jongseong’s cock, sliding against the sensitive vein. 
the feeling of won’s nose bumping against your bruised clit making you squirm and scream, tears welling up in your eyes as you babble out nonsensical begs and pleases as you cum. 
 jay adding more to the mess inside you with the final flick of jungwon’s tongue against his thick cock. 
jungwon sits back, watching the two of you grab onto each other and ride out your highs with a satisfied smile on his face.
“that was better than the take we lost.”
“oh yeah about that, i never lost the take.” you and won snapping your necks to look at jay. “what? i couldn’t pass up on another threesome with you two.” 
ᯓ★
@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.
🏷️: @pansies-garden
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vroomvro0mferrari · 23 hours
Text
CL16 | Oblivious
Sorry it took me so long, I was really busy with finals the last couple of weeks but I've finally finished the fic from the poll! I hope you like it :)
Summary: Charles has been blatantly flirting with Y/N for months, but she's the only one who hasn't noticed.
Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader
WC: 2.4K
Warnings: None
Masterlist
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Charles was busy in the garage, talking with his mechanics when he saw her walk in. Y/N Sainz, the younger sister of his friend and teammate. He had seen her many, many times when she came to support her brother at his races. It seemed like Charles could sense her presence, knowing she was there without having seen or heard her, always looking up right when she walked in. Y/N Sainz was greatly loved by the Ferrari employees. With her bubbly personality, witty jokes, and bright smiles, all the team members enjoyed her presence. And Charles couldn’t help but feel the same way, although Y/N was completely oblivious to his affection. 
His face lit up when their eyes met, instantly smiling at her company. As soon as she was close enough, he greeted her, “Ah Y/N! Nice to see you again, you look lovely today!” He grinned.
“Oh, thank you, Charles. You’re so kind!” She responded with a bright smile as she hugged him in greeting, the flirty undertone going by entirely unnoticed.
Charles had been enamoured with Y/N since the first time they met. In an effort to not come off too strong and scare her away, Charles tried to flirt with her subtly. However, after several occurrences without any reaction from Y/N, it seemed his flirting was too subtle. Either that or she was not into him. But he couldn’t give into that possibility just yet.
As time passed and Y/N became a more familiar face in the paddock, Charles’s flirtations became bolder. He’d constantly try to include her in conversations and would make up all kinds of excuses just to talk to her. Whenever he did manage to string her into another conversation, he’d try to make her laugh as much as he could. Simply because he could, and because he loved to see her happy and smiling. And if he was feeling really confident, he would even go as far as to touch her arm or the small of her back while they were chatting away or walking around the paddock together. Nevertheless, to Charles's frustration, Y/N didn’t seem to notice his underlying motives, dismissing his actions and words as nothing more than friendly gestures.
Meanwhile, everyone else who had ever been around the duo seemed to have caught sight of the one-sided infatuation and attempt at courtship. Everybody except for Y/N had noticed Charles was desperately trying to make his feelings for the girl obvious, but she simply kept friend-zoning him. Frankly, he found it embarrassing. 
Nearly all of Charles’s fellow drivers had been caught up in one of his attempts to woo Y/N while she simply brushed his compliments off as friendly comments. It was hard not to notice Charles’s fruitless flirting when he did it right in front of them, but they didn’t say anything about it. His colleagues merely exchanged knowing glances with others aware of the situation, amused at Charles’s futile attempts at winning Y/N over. But as time wore on, and Charles kept trying, at least a few of his colleagues started to comment on his persistence, calling him a simp, and joking about his poor flirting. Some suggested he should stop his pursuit of Y/N, as it seemed she wasn’t interested, but Charles was relentless: he would not quit until he knew for sure Y/N Sainz didn’t and would never like him.
And so, when Charles spotted Y/N walking through the paddock with Lando, one of the people in the paddock she got along with better, talking animatedly and laughing loudly with each other, he approached her once more; he would seize any opportunity to blatantly flirt with Y/N. He quickly caught up with the two, putting his hand on the small of her back as he matched his speed with theirs. “You’re absolutely radiant today, chérie” He greeted her with a cheeky grin.  
Y/N looked to her side, greeting the new presence “Hey, Charles!” As oblivious as always, she sweetly smiled up at him and replied, “Thanks! You’re such a sweet friend!”
Lando was a mere bystander in the situation as he observed the interaction, surprised and amused at the ease with which Y/N once again waved off the man who was so clearly crushing on her. He held his opinions back until Charles left, “Wow, you certainly have no trouble friend-zoning him, don’t you?” He commented.
Y/N cocked her head as she looked at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Lando laughed humourlessly, “Dear God, you really have no idea?” He paused, “Y/N, Charles has been flirting non-stop with you for ages. How on earth have you not noticed?”
She stopped walking and looked at him in confusion, “He’s not flirting with me, Lando, he’s just being nice. He’s a good friend.” 
“I’m actually quite sure he’s flirting with you, Y/N. So is everyone else. You could literally ask any of the drivers, and they would confirm it. The Ferrari employees too, I reckon. He likes you, Y/N.” He said unimpressed.
“Charles likes me?” She asked softly, suddenly turning shy, a blush creeping onto her face.
Lando sighed, realising his friend was even more oblivious than he initially thought. “Yeah, he does. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never noticed.” He gently squeezed her shoulder before they parted ways.
— — —
For the rest of the day, Y/N thought about Lando’s words. She thought about all her interactions with Charles over the last few months and realised that he did compliment her quite often. 
Once, on a sunny afternoon, Y/N was chatting with some of the Ferrari team members near the garage when Charles spotted her. He, as always, decided to walk over to talk with her, his usual charming smile on his face and mischief in his eyes.
"Y/N, only you can make a sunny day even brighter," he said with a big, playful smile and admiration in his voice.
Y/N blinked at him, surprised by his sudden appearance and his bold statement. "Oh, thank you, Charles! That's really sweet of you to say."
Unfazed by her obliviousness, Charles pressed on, determined to make his feelings known after such a long time. "No, really," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "I mean it. You bring a brightness to the paddock that I can't quite explain."
Y/N laughed softly, “Well, um, thank you. That’s very kind. What can I say? I try my best.” She replied with a smile.
Another time, Y/N was in the team hospitality when she accidentally spilt her drink, leaving an obvious stain on her white shirt. Charles, who was, unsurprisingly, standing nearby (as always), had noticed immediately and courteously offered one of his extra Ferrari shirts. When he saw the girl he had liked for months in his clothes, wearing his driver’s number, he naturally couldn’t resist the urge to flirt with Y/N.
"Have I ever told you how stunning you look in red?" he remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and fondness at the sight of her.
Y/N laughed and replied, "No, I don't think you have," smiling at him in a friendly manner.
"Well, consider it said," he said, his tone playful. "You wear it better than anyone else, that's for sure."
Y/N laughed softly, appreciating her friend’s words, "I doubt that’s true, but thanks, Charles."
Thinking back to these moments, Y/N realised maybe Charles had indeed been flirting with her. However, he might just be like that with all of his friends, complimenting everyone he cares about. Nevertheless, now that Lando had brought this to her attention, she would surely pay extra attention to what Charles would say to her tomorrow.
— — —
The next day, Charles had caught her in a conversation again. They were talking about the race and the current situation with Ferrari. He mentioned the pressure from the team and all the fans that want him to do well, and that the car and the strategies aren’t working the way he wants them to. Of course, Y/N tried to reassure him; to relieve the pressure and stress Charles was feeling. He absolutely adored the way she was trying to comfort him and was not afraid to let her know, “I have to admit, Y/N, nobody can cheer me up like you can. You calm my nerves like no one else,” he said, looking at her lovingly while he expressed his feelings.
Y/N didn’t know how to respond. This was the first time she noticed he was flirting with her whilst he was actually doing it, and she had no idea how to react. When she felt her face heat up, she could only assume she was blushing from the nerves. She diverted her gaze, trying to come up with a good reply to Charles’s advances. How did she usually respond when Charles complimented her? She couldn’t remember now.
Charles was confused at Y/N’s lack of response to his remark. Normally, she’d immediately smile at him and thank him for whatever compliment he’d come up with, but now, she was looking away, and - was he seeing that right? Was she blushing? He had flirted with her countless times, but she had never blushed at any of his comments. Had she finally noticed his advances? Charles watched her with an amused smile while she searched for the right words.
Eventually, she shyly smiled at him, meeting his eyes in a fleeting glance before responding, “I’m glad to be of help.”
Charles, Charles, proud that he was the one to cause her flustered appearance, decided to push a little further, curious to see what would happen, “You really have no idea how much you mean to me, Y/N. Your support helps me so much.” Charles smiled gently and put his hand on her arm. When there’s no immediate response, he continues, “Anyway, I have to get ready for the race. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Y/N merely nodded and watched him walk away.
Her brother had been watching the interaction from a distance, observing the way his sister responded to Charles’s obvious flirting and, too, noticing the difference. “You finally figured it out, huh?” He said with a teasing smile. Y/N rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, but Carlos just continued, “You should let him know you like him too.” Y/N didn’t respond. “You do like him don’t you?” He asks, confused at her unresponsiveness. “Leave me alone, Carlos!” She replied, pushing her brother away. He laughed at her; that reaction was enough for him to know the answer to his question. He ruffled her hair and walked away, also needing to get ready for the race.
After her short talk with Charles, Y/N was sure that he liked her, but how to proceed? She could barely focus on the cars going around the track while all types of ideas were racing around in her head. What on earth was she supposed to do now? Should she wait until the next time Charles would flirt with her, or should she make the move instead? Considering Carlos’s advice, she decided she should take matters into her own hands.
She walked up to Charles as soon as she saw him entering the garage after the race. She had always thought Charles was incredibly attractive – like most women, but he looked especially handsome after he had raced.
“Hey, good job on the race!” She greeted Charles, pulling him into a hug. She looked at him for a second or two, contemplating whether she should actually do this. She smiled up at him shyly, “You know, I love the way your hair looks after a race.” She said blushing, running one of her hands through his messy hair. Charles is surprised at her comment, but he’s shocked at her hand in his hair. This is the first time she has complimented him – or at least, initiated it. Let alone, her touching him in such an intimate way. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at her in disbelief. It was now Charles’s turn to be flustered as Y/N finally reciprocated his attempts at flirting.
In his silence, Y/N decided to continue, “It’s hot.” She said, avoiding eye contact. Charles was unsure how to respond. He had never experienced a situation like this before; he always knew exactly what to say, but she had caught him off guard. After Y/N had friend-zoned him countless times, he was definitely not expecting this; he was not sure what to do.
The absence of a reply only made Y/N more nervous. She distanced herself from him, letting her hand fall from his hair, realising she probably shouldn’t have touched him without permission. Charles was quick to notice her retreat and held her face to stop her from leaving. He raised her chin to make their eyes meet and asked her softly, “Let me take you to dinner?” while he stared at her with adoration.
Y/N smiled at him fondly and nodded her head, “I’d like that, Charles. I’d really like that.” 
“Good,” He said firmly, his smile growing wider, matching hers. “I have to leave now for the debrief, but I’ll text you, okay?” 
Y/N nodded her head in response, letting out a hum. Charles pulled her face closer with the hand on her cheek, and fleetingly kissed her forehead before leaving, looking over his shoulder to catch her gaze one last time.
Y/N stood still in shock for a while, processing what just happened. She had agreed to go on a date with Charles. She was staring outside, letting the situation sink in as she watched people pass by in the busy paddock. Suddenly, she spotted Lando waving wildly at her, trying to get her attention. When he realised that she had seen him, he smiled mischievously and gave her a thumbs-up, assuming the kiss he saw Charles give her was a good sign. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by his nosiness, but Lando just laughed, amused at her bother and glad his meddling had helped.
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letstrip-teamblue · 2 days
Text
Treat you like a lady
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• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.
• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.
• Word count: 2,031
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Sunday
Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.
The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.
A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.
Chris breaks the awkward silence.
“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”
“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.
I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”
“What?”
You look up from your phone.
“…What.” You echo.
“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”
Your cheeks get warm.
Think of a way to brush this off.
“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”
He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.
“... Do you do it for him?”
A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”
“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”
Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?
“This is none of your business.” You scoff.
“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.
Chris doesn’t give up yet.
“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”
You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.
“I’ll see you later, Chris.”
7:00 pm
Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.
You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.
Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.
“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.
It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.
You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.
“I'm over here, goof.”
It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.
“What are you doing here?” you asked
“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.
1:12 am
Well, that’s a first.
Monday
Chris opened the front door.
“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.
Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.
“Yeah about that,”
You cleared your throat and walked inside.
“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”
His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.
“What?”
“It’s not personal, it’s-”
“Did he put you up to this?”
“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.
“How can I when you’re all I think about?”
The air in the room gets thick.
“What?”
“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.
“I could treat you better than him.”
You laugh, “What are you talking about?”
He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“You know it’s true.”
He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.
“I can make you feel good.”
You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.
Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.
He must be bluffing… right?
“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.
I need to stop this.
“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.
Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.
“Does he make you nervous like I do?”
Chris' eyes fall to your lips.
“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”
Shit.
Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.
Wait, don’t go anywhere.
You press your lips forward, chasing him.
It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.
He straightens up.
“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”
Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.
“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”
“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”
You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.
You pull back for air.
“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”
“Ok.”
But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.
It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.
“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”
“I’d really like that.”
4:15 pm
Me: just left his house. whew.
Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.
6:00pm
“How long have you liked me?”
“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”
Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.
You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.
“Damn, you have some knots right here.”
“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”
“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”
Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.
“Is it ok if I bring this up?”
“Mhm.”
He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.
Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.
“That feeling good?”
“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”
He chuckles. “Anything for my girl.”
After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.
He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.
“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”
“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.
You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.
He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.
“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”
While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.
You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.
You nod into his pillow.
“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”
Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.
“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.
“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”
He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.
Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.
“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.
He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.
Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.
Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”
When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.
Your back arches off the bed.
“That’s it.” he says into my skin.
He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.
“God, you’re everything.”
It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.
“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”
“Fuck yes.” You moan.
When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.
Chris tsks.
“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”
“Shut up.”
You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.
“Yes ma’am.”
Jesus
Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.
“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”
You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.
Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.
He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.
“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.
“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”
“Please, so close.”
“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”
He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.
In an instant your vision goes black.
The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.
You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.
“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.
“Hi”
“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”
He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.
You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.
It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him
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stariikis · 3 days
Text
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what's your ETA?
synopsis ; in a crowded train headed towards your friend's art showcase, you and your boyfriend are caught in an awkward position.
pairing ; non-idol!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, literal forced proximity wc ; 1180 warnings ; kissing (a lil bit in public), lots of teasing, and mentions of height difference..
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“I swear, if you make one more cup of coffee and insist you have to drink it before we go, I'll personally push you onto the train tracks.”
Nearly spitting out his beverage, Riki swallows abruptly and coughs. “Now, I would say I’m used to your violent tendencies, but that’s just gory. But I’d honestly like to see it.” His eyes shine with an unsettling excitement that has you blinking rapidly. 
“You won’t be alive to see it…” You tilt your head and feign confusion. In reality, this is both your way of flirty banter. Since Riki just loves to tease you, you believe it’s only fair that you should be allowed to tease back. However, your version of teasing is questionably rude at times, way worse than any fireball of quips Riki showers you with. 
“You wanna go or not?” Riki sighs, his mug making a clunking sound on the table when he puts it down. “I’m ready to just sit here and argue with you until night — I’m not the one desperate to see Sunoo’s art exhibition.” 
“No, I swear it’s not because I’m desperate to go. You’re the one who’s closer to him though?” You shake your head and frown in bewilderment. “Fake friend.” 
Riki whips around in his seat. “Pick me!”
”Bad boyfriend!” You erupt into laughter and lunge forward to ruffle his hair. 
Playing along, Riki gets up and pushes you gently away from him. But at the same time his fingers grab ahold of your wrist, holding you close, like he doesn’t really mean it. He’s casting the bait, eyes that look deeply and adoringly into yours glimmering with enthusiasm. 
“You’re taking it to heart. Don’t take it to heart,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss you, voice dropping down to a low. “Pathological liar.” Before you have time to protest, he giggles, hugging you close as if daring you to spit out another one of your alleged, ‘lies’. 
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When you both reach the station, its difficult to see through the sardine-packed crowd of people in front of you. “It… is so crowded,” you tiptoe to be able to whisper in Riki’s ear – and even that’s not enough, he has to lean down with a huff of amusement for you to reach. “Why is it so crowded today?” 
Shrugging his shoulders loosely, Riki slips his hand into yours, squeezing it tight. “You’re the one who wanted to go to this art show.” He mutters quietly. “Kim Sunoo’s, no less. You know we can just ask him to conduct a private show for us?” 
“Is supporting your friends a concept nonexistent to you?” You snap, feigning irritation but responding by rubbing your thumb over his. Your boyfriend pretends to be hurt by this, staggering backwards as much as he can in the crowd. His free hand clutching his chest, the playful atmosphere set by your banter fades when he looks at you. Wearing a gentle smile, he leads you into the train when the doors and gates slide open. 
He manages to secure you both a spot along the wall near the right-hand-side doors. You can tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wants to find you a seat too, but you’re probably going to get dirty looks from the elderlies if you do so. Luckily, he saves you the social torture and doesn’t force you to take a seat. 
The first few stops the train makes are still bearable. Riki is squashed a little too close for comfort at times, caging you in against the wall while you just stare ahead as if nothing’s happening. You ignore the tingles the situations send, all the way from your neurons down to your toes. However, when the crowd dissolves as they alight at their respective stations, you can breathe a sigh of relief. 
Like usual, Riki makes a snide remark about your morning breath (even though you’re quite certain your dental routine is competent), and returns to scroll on his phone. What disheartens you, though, is how genuinely uninterested he seems in Sunoo’s exhibit. And how bored he seems to be, despite being here with you. 
There’s a nonchalant faze across his face as he scrolls social media, leaning in close with a hand adjusting its grip on the grab bar next to you. You tilt your head, chest starting to ache. Does he really not care as much as you’d like to think he does? To not even feel an ounce of excitement in this moment? 
The train screeches to a halt as if agreeing with your intrusive thoughts. There’s still a long way to travel downtown to where the exhibit is held, and unfortunately for you, this is the most crowded station the train has stopped at by far. So many people pour into the carriage that it’s not even five seconds before Riki’s whole body is pressed up against yours. 
He drops the arm holding his phone down to his side. 
People are pushing you on both sides, and suddenly there’s a wave of gratefulness that you’re not stuck in the middle of the carriage. As if your current situation isn’t painful enough. Your boyfriend can’t meet your eyes, and it’s not surprising. With your noses mere inches apart (only because of the height difference), even you, usually assertive and confident, have to look into the distance. 
“Sorry…” Riki says in a hushed tone, moving his lips closer to your ear. His head has practically dropped down onto your shoulder, and you can feel yourself filled with vigorous tremors. He slips his phone into his back pocket, and the hand previously holding it snakes protectively around your waist. You blink up at him, expecting a warm look down, but all you’re met with is narrowed eyes carefully scanning the surroundings. 
His neck still dipped downwards, he hugs you close when the final few people slip into the train. Clearly feeling you shaking, he hums soothingly into your ear, “you’re safe”. “You have me.” “Don’t be too scared.” Anything else he says goes in one ear and goes out the other. 
Because. In such a situation, what would you expect your boyfriend to proceed to do? a), Accept fate and stay in position, b), shyly turn away from the deathly awkwardness, or c), giggle and tilt his head to pepper kisses along your neck? 
Riki chose C. 
He’s so gross, you think, but only when you’re stumbling out the train and running all the way to Sunoo’s exhibit to save yourself from remembering the situation more. Why did he ever do that? I should have shoved him away and called him a pervert and acted as if I didn’t know him. 
What a lie — when he was pressing a final kiss against your cheek your first thought wasn’t even remotely close to wanting to shove him away. Rather, you had pouted, arms wrapped around his neck, because he’s going to have to make up for being both indifferent towards you and making you so late. 
(It is never really his fault.)
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thank you for reading! i'm so sorry for the lack of uploads recently, life has just gotten a little bit busier and i finally got a lil break so i decided to write this prompt i thought of a while back!
more of my works >
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amongemeraldclouds · 3 days
Text
Ruin The Friendship
A letter gets mailed to its intended recipient. A letter confessing your feelings. A letter you never meant to send.
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Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader
Warning: fluff, no use of y/n
Author’s note: My final entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt five. This was such a fun challenge, thanks for hosting @thatdammchickennugget ♡ 1k words.
✿ Masterlist
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“What letter? I didn’t have any mail to send, Daisy,” I ask our house elf as she updates me about the chores she’s done for the day.
“The letter beneath your bed. Daisy found it and to thank you kind miss for saving Daisy from your father’s fury yesterday, Daisy went the extra mile to send it,” she announces proudly.
“You mean,” I whisper, a sinking feeling growing in my chest, “the letter containing my deep and honest thoughts and feelings, about the boy I love, that I swore to myself I would never - and I mean never - send?” I exhale, feeling the edges of a panic attack creep in.
Daisy frowns. “Sorry miss, Daisy did not know. Daisy thought she was helping,” she apologizes, cowering in the corner.
“Stand up, Daisy. I’m not going to hit you,” I reassure her. “But I could hit myself so I don’t have to attend class tomorrow and face the mortifying events that are sure to follow.”
I jump up from my bed and nod, waving my wand. I could do that.
“Miss, please!” Daisy pleads. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s Daisy’s fault,” she hisses. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid Daisy!” She chides, punctuating each word by banging her head against my drawers.
“Stop, Daisy,” I reach out, touching her shoulder. "Fine” I sigh, “no one is hurting themselves.”
I am just going to have to go to school tomorrow and die from shame.
The letter
My sweet Enzo,  It’s ironic you admire me for my bravery for taking down our childhood bullies and for being one of the top students in our DADA class. Yet here I am in a moment of weakness, thinking of you. Actually, even when I feel strong, defeated, or happy, I still think of you. In an ideal world, I’d be brave enough to tell you face to face. But we live in an imperfect world where hearts can break and relationships end, far more often than anyone would like. So if it saves our friendship, I can and must lock my heart away. I wish I can tell you when or how it happened, but I myself don’t understand. All I know is that I’m hopelessly in love with you. There, I said it.
The aftermath
I peer into Enzo’s dorm, head snaking past the door.
Please, please, please, let it be vacant. Let it be vacant, I chant in my head.
I sigh when silence greets me and move the rest of my body inside, sagging against the door in relief.
What are the odds that Enzo has already read a letter that just arrived this morning? He’s probably at quidditch practice, which means I still have a shot at saving myself from utter mortification. And more importantly, to save our friendship.
I scan his room and hurry towards the table littered with books, dried ink splotches stain the oak wood. If the letter were anywhere, it would be somewhere he—
I yelp when a door opens and turn towards Enzo stepping out from the bathroom with damp hair clinging to his scalp, water dripping down his sculpted chest, running along his toned abs. All hail quidditch.
He clears his throat and I bite my treacherous tongue - the one that unconsciously moved across my lips. Salazar, if I don’t get my act together, I won’t even need some stupid letter to reveal my feelings.
My cheeks burn as I return my gaze to his amused expression. “What the hell are you doing here and why are you naked?” I accuse. That’s right, I’m just blushing because I’m angry.
He adjusts the towel across his hips and I turn away, shoving the image of his toned figure from my mind, trying not to imagine whatever else is beneath his towel. “First of all, not naked,” he states.
“And more importantly, you’re asking me what I am doing, taking a shower, here in my dorm?” he points to the floor for emphasis. I wince and kick myself internally.
“I thought you’d be at quidditch practice,” I try. “I just - I just lost something and thought it might be with you.”
“What is it? I can help you look,” he offers, moving towards me and I step back.
“Enz please, put some clothes on first!” I plead, reminding myself to breathe.
I stop midstep when I feel something cool and solid behind me and I realize I’ve backed into a wall. Why the hell is Enzo prowling towards me like I’m his prey?
I close my eyes when he stops just in front of me, heat radiating from his body. I will myself to disappear, to fuse with the wall, to—
“By any chance,” he starts, “the thing you’re looking for. Is it white and made of paper—”
No, no, no, no, I chant this time, my eyes opening to stare at him in horror.
He continues, “the one with your handwriting scrawled inside?”
All the words leave my mind.
He smirks, “it would be a shame if you lost it and wanted it back because I rather liked it.”
“Y-you do?” I whisper.
His smirk gives way to a warm smile. “Darling, you’re more courageous than I am and I still admire you for your bravery. You managed to write it. Here’s my response: I love you too.”
“Well technically, I never meant to send it. It was Daisy,” I try to explain.
“So I have Daisy to thank. I’ll bring her flowers next time,” he says, making a mental note before continuing. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time too, but I was also worried it could ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same.”
“Now that we’ve established we feel the same…” I begin but trail off when he rests his arm on the wall above me and leans in. My breath hitches.
“I won’t need my clothes until much later,” he ends my sentence.
It’s not what I was going to say but the second I open my lips to protest, his mouth crashes into mine and nothing else matters.
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gauloiseblue · 2 days
Text
Tender.
(Simon Riley × Reader)
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He closes the door behind, as a pair of hands reach out to touch his shoulders, before they softly tug on the top of his attire. A sigh leaves his lips when you peel the heavy layer off him, freeing him from the stuffy suit.
You smile at him as he loosens his tie, and you hold out your hand to take it.
He watches you as you fold his suit, and set it down on the stool. Leaving it there to be laundered in the morning.
It's a sight he never thought he'd see, and the one he never got used to.
He wonders if Price ever thought the same.
"Never thought you'd settle down, Captain."
He saw his friend grinned, and his eyes crinkled with amusement.
"Never thought you'd bring someone either, Simon." He chuckled before he patted his back, "A beautiful one, too."
He quietly smiled, while his eyes searched for his lover unconsciously.
Lover.
What an easy word to say, for a tangled mess it left behind.
"Oh…" He heard his friend sighed, as he saw the bride bow down to let a tiny, curious hand touch the mantilla. "Look at her. What I won't do to see her smile."
He let out a snort when he saw his friend softened at the sight of her. Captivated. And tender-struck.
He'd call him mad, if he wasn't affected by it.
Just a little shift of his gaze, he found himself staring at a serene face—that is yours. His heart thrummed when you smiled at the little boy, who shyly hid from the bride behind you and his mother.
A sight that'd plague him for a lifetime.
He blinked, as her voice called him to the present.
"You've been quiet for a while now." She mused, "What's on your mind?"
He looks at her, and notes the way you press your lips together, waiting. "Nothing." Is all he said.
You didn't press it further, and he didn't know if it's alright to keep it that way. You knew that it was a lie, you both knew that, but you didn't show it. You understood him, and he yet again took advantage of it.
You give him a small smile, before you turn to the mirror.
That's when his silence falters.
He knew you didn't turn your back on him, and that you only looked away to unclasp your necklace. But his body tenses up, and compels itself to move towards her.
You're at a halt when his hands pull you into him all of the sudden, while his face is buried in the curve of your nape. "I love you." You heard him whisper, and for a moment, you almost thought he bit his tongue from stating further.
"I know." You murmured against his hair, as you stroked his cheek tenderly.
"I didn't deserve it." He spoke in a low tone—a tone that's reserved for confession.
"It's not your place to judge." You replied to him.
"I didn't love you the way you needed."
"You did. A million times in fact."
"I took your love for granted." His voice trembled when he spoke, "I took advantage of your kindness, and I made you think that you love me, even when—"
"Simon."
He didn't resist it when you took his hands into yours, as you stared into his eyes.
"I didn't love you against my will, I chose this myself." You told him, "You never forced me into this. If anything, I should be blamed for it, because I want you."
You give his hand a squeeze as an assurance.
"You're enough for me, Simon."
His eyes widen, before they soften up by your touch. He reaches up to hold your hand, and presses them against his face.
"You're too good for me." He said as he kissed you palm.
"Learn to live with it." You chuckled, "Because I'm not going anywhere."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
He recites the same promise, as he presses his lips against your finger. A kiss, that'll someday be replaced when he's on his knee.
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yeeterthek33per · 23 hours
Text
Loved and Landed (Steph Catley x Reader)
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A/n Requested
-------
Steph lives a busy life.
There's her football life. Obviously.
There's her schooling life.
There's the life she lives with her friends and family.
And then there's the life with-
"Steeeeeph, come on, I wanna get there early, I'm not dealing with Katie leaving something for me to find, again."
There's incessant tugging at the sleeve of her red Arsenal hoodie.
Of course, her football life keeps her the most busy.
Especially when she has to drive it to and from home all of the time now that Kyra's living in the house as well.
It had been a hectic process, but the young midfielder had settled in quickly, taking in the familiarity of the Aussie herself and her club teammates' closeness around them.
Quickly becoming a child amongst the older girls on the team, much like a sibling to them, within but a few months.
That being said.
Kyra was a little shit.
And she knew it too.
A demanding one at that.
Hence why Katie had taken to knocking the young brunette down a few pegs.
Her cockiness was starting to show under the protection of the older girls, so the Irish captain had been messing with her enough to take the invincible mindset away from her.
Leaving her ultimately latched onto Steph now.
A lot.
"Seriously, Steph, please, I can't deal with her leaving shaving foam in my boots again."
The older woman raises an eyebrow at the pleading look on Kyra's face.
"You did this to yourself, Ky. Katie's only retaliating because you decided you were king shit enough to put hair dye in her shampoo."
The younger girl whines.
"Don't you think she's retaliated enough? I've had my shoes violated, my shin guards replaced with slightly smaller ones. I mean, the other day, my water bottle was filled with pickle juice. Pickle Juice! For gods sake."
Steph sighs, rolling her eyes slightly, grabbing the last of her stuff to shove into her pack, she gestures to the front door, to which the midfielder eagerly hurries out of and towards the car, waiting impatiently for the defender to unlock it.
"You've seriously gotta apologise to Katie or something. The girl has ten siblings, I can't imagine she hasn't spent her whole life dealing with bratty behaviour from little shits like you."
Kyra scoffs as she hurriedly buckles herself in.
"Rude."
"The truth."
Steph smirks at the small pout that forms on the other girls lips.
"Hurry up and drive."
"So bossy."
-------
As expected, they arrive with hardly any other people around, decidedly much earlier than any of the other girls. Katie wasn't the earliest of player's anyway, so Kyra really shouldn't be worried about her beating them there.
Still, the youngin looks exceptionally nervous as she peaks into the changing room and gingerly makes her way over to her cubby, scanning it with a ridiculous level of detail.
Steph can only shake her head, watching the young girl sheepishly wander around the room, checking for what may well be hidden traps.
Maybe she should talk with Katie about getting her to take it down a notch.
The Irish woman was nothing if not relentless when it came to getting back at someone.
The last thing the team needed was a midfielder with serious trust issues stemming from their infamous yellow card magnet of a winger.
"Ky, relax. She's not even here yet."
"Yeah, but you never know."
"Seriously, it's game day, relax, she won't-"
"Oh, hello, you two. Stephy. Kyra."
The ever so loud and joyful Katie enters the changing room with a bang of the door as it slams open and hits the wall.
Her smirk quirks up a little wider at the sight of the midfielder, who's looking rather sheepishly around her rather than at the Irish woman herself.
"You two extra early today, eh?"
"Ha, something like that."
Steph gives her a look as she nods in Kyra's direction.
"Give the poor girl a break, would ya? I think she's been thoroughly humbled."
Katie snorts in amusement, eyeing her up.
"Eh, she’s fine. I wasn't gonna do anything."
Steph raises a brow at that.
"....Yet."
There it is.
"Of course. Don't mess around too much, though. We still have a game to play, McCabe."
She lets out an unconvincing hum in response, right as some of the other girls start to filter in, Caitlin one of the ones to settle into her cubby beside the defender.
"What's up with the kid?"
Steph snorts.
"Ask your girlfriend. She's been torturing the poor girl."
Caitlin rolls her eyes, turning to Katie, who's now got a cheeky glint in her as she eyes up the younger of the three.
"Katie."
"What? I didn't do any-"
She stops at the look she gets from the Australian, grumbling as she relents and turns back to her cubby.
-------
Kyra's finally able to escape the locker room out of sight of the defender the moment the Irish woman is distracted.
Heading down the hall towards the physio room, she ends up coming face to face with and bumping face first into someone.
She groans when she rubs at her face and her backside from where she landed on it as she stands up again with the help of her assailant.
The person is stood in a royal navy uniform, a patch on her shoulder with three horizontal gold stripes and a small circled loop on the top, hair slicked back and tight into a bun behind her head.
'L/n-Catley' the name badge reads.
Confusion crosses her face which you quickly notice.
"You're Steph's teammate right?"
"Uh yeeaah? Who are you?"
"It's a long story and sorry about the bump there. I uh, I don't know if y'all know yet but I might need your help. The staff were nice enough to let me in but I need an escort here."
"Where are you going?"
"I got told to wait for one of the trainers in the staff room?"
"Can I ask what you're doing?"
"Waiting to see Steph, but don't tell her, it's supposed to be a surprise."
Kyra is extremely sceptical, but she leads you down the hall to where the trainers are situated and one of them recognises you immediately, hugging you and dragging you into the room.
She's even more confused when the staff member is nearly in tears.
Wait.
Navy uniform.
Here to see Steph.
L/n-Catley on the name badge.
There's no way.
"Are you... Are you married to Steph?"
You chuckle softly, rubbing the back of your neck.
"Yes I am. If you can't tell it's been a little while since we've seen each other."
"Yeah, I can tell, her house is far too empty for the size of it."
"Ah, so you're the new roommate. Kyra, right?"
"She's been talking about me?"
You nod.
"We would call every two weeks. When she found out you were moving to Arsenal, I couldn't tell if she was happy or mad because you'd already trashed her white towels."
"Hey! That was not my fault, the wine just fell... on it's own."
There's a sheepish look on her face.
You chuckle softly.
"She'll be fine, the pattern was ugly anyway, we needed new towels... Don't tell her I said that."
Kyra smiles at that.
"It's great to meet you, then... How are we planning this out?"
"I'll have my sister here sneak me somewhere I can wait and surprise her at the end of the game."
She nods.
"Alright, I better get going then before the girls come looking for me for pitch inspection."
You nod back and give her a warm smile.
"Oh, I'm Y/n, by the way, Lieutenant Commander Y/n L/n-Catley."
-------
The roar of the almost entirely red and white crowd as the girls enter the pitch is as usual, deafeningly loud.
Home games are always the most adrenaline instilling games, ones where their fans are always the loudest, chanting and screaming every time one of their own touches the ball.
Steph can still hardly believe it.
The growth in the game. Breaking records every single home match so far.
The FA Cup semi-final was no different it seems.
Her eyes subtly scan the crowd as she jogs out behind the others, shifting from clapping fan to clapping fan. There's an air about the crowd.
A massively high inducing air, one that she can feel in every nerve ending in her body as she practically bounces around the pitch in warmups.
She brushes it off as it being a semi final type of high.
Aston Villa would be a difficult opponent and she assumed that was the reasoning.
-------
It seems she's proven wrong in the first ten minutes.
It doesn't take long for Stina to score, the home crowd immediately losing their minds, and they barely have time to recover just two minutes later when the Swede swoops in for the double.
By the fourty-fifth minute, they know they have the game. Four to nil over the Villans thanks to a Stina hattrick and a goal from Frida. Her heartbeat is thumping in her ears as they approach the final minute.
This is the part they're in the dark. How many minutes left of stoppage? How much longer does she have to defend?
The players are taught not to worry about that. To just play until the whistle blows. And she does.
But she can't help the nagging awaiting of the whistle, wondering when it will go.
The moment it does, there's celebration, relief, and a lot of cheering and screams and congratulation from the air around.
A pair of arms and legs wrap around her from behind as Kyra jumps on her back, the young Australian whooping into her ear.
"Onto the finals, Stephy!"
The defender chuckles and celebrates with the team, the announcer shouting out the home teams win to wind up the crowd once more.
As they do the celebration walk around the pitch, the announcer announces player of the match, and then one more announcement catches her ear.
Her head snaps toward the tunnel the moment she hears it, heart stopping at the words of the female announcer.
"And finally, one last round of applause. Let us congratulate and welcome back someone very special to one of our own. Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/n-Catley returning from fifteen months of duty at sea with the Royal Navy."
And truly, there you are, her wife.
Dressed to the nines in your Black, long sleeved uniform, hands clasped behind you, standing with a wide, almost teary smile as you watch Steph bolt across the pitch towards you, catching her with little effort as she jumps into your arms, knocking the cap off your head with the force.
The rest of the Arsenal girls stand shocked, looking between themselves and their left back at the sudden appearance of a totally new member of the Catley family.
Before they can even try to work out who you might be to Steph, the defender has her lips pressed to yours tightly, tears streaming down your face.
The sensation of finally being able to kiss you, her wife. HER wife, has her trembling against you, her stomach twisting and curling as you hold her tight against you, your own hands shaking as they rest on her back.
It had been the longest stint you'd gone without seeing each other, having been on a cramped ship for the majority of that time.
Even having been used to long times apart, the immense relief of being able to hold your person, your love, YOUR wife, after so long. was like nothing else you'd ever experienced.
And you were glad you had all the time in the world to experience it now.
When Steph's finally able to pull back and look you in the eye, hands holding your face, eyes scanning your features, noting a small scar under your right brow, and then returning to make eye contact again with you, albeit very tearily, much like yourself.
Lifting your own hands, your thumbs swipe away the tears on her cheeks, leaning down once more to kiss her, forehead leaning against hers.
You take in the immensity of the screams of the crowd all of a sudden, especially the crowd around the players' tunnel.
With that, she buries herself back into your hold, her nose buried into the crook of your neck.
Your eyes scan the pitch, watching the applauding or shocked expressions of the players.
You'd already known her teammates didn't know she was married, however their shocked expressions still have you chuckling.
All except Kyra's wide smile as she watches the two of you and you give the girl a wink.
"I can't believe it. You're here."
It's half whimpered into your shoulder, and you just barely hear it over the crowd.
"I'm here. I'm home."
"They finally let you on leave?"
She's using a half joking tone beneath the watery chokes and sobs.
"Better than that, Love."
She pulls away shocked.
"You mean.."
You smile down at her teary eyed.
"I'm home for good, not retired but they're giving me an office in London. Full time hours still but I won't be needed for duty anymore."
She frowns softly after a second.
She knew you'd always hated the idea of an office job.
Catching the look on her face, you knew what she'd be thinking about.
"I don't care where it is, or what I'm doing. I'm just glad I'm home, with you. I've had my fill of travelling and front line work for a lifetime."
Leaning your forehead back against hers, you let the moment sink in.
You'd known it was coming for months now, haven spoken to your superiors, and them letting you know there was a position available remotely, you'd taken it in a heartbeat.
If it meant coming home to your girl, you'd have done anything.
A small throat clearing a couple feet from you, the team had moved to stand around the pair of you, eager to ask questions of the brunette in your arms.
You nudge her softly with a small giggle in her ear.
"Babe, I think they have questions."
"They can wait a little longer."
You don't fight her on it just letting her settle into you again, holding you tightly.
The moment she does let go, she's grabbed by the shoulders and interrogated by the team rather swiftly.
Leah stands arms crossed.
"Now Stephy, when did this occur?"
Steph sheepishly smiles around her at her.
"Alright alright, Gunners, meet my beautiful wife, Y/n. She's been in the navy since she turned eighteen, we met five years ago when she was on leave in Australia. We started dating less than a month later and she left on duty about four months later. We got married after three years, bought a house right before she left a year and a bit ago. We haven't seen each other in person since then. Until now, that is."
And just like that, you're immediately dragged into the group rather swiftly, squished into several hugs.
A firm handshake and then a tight hug from their captain, especially. The Scot making firm well you know how quickly she'd bury you should you hurt their defender, despite the fact you'd known Steph longer and you chuckle, nodding in agreement at the stern look turned cracked smile she lets go.
When you're finally free, Steph takes no time tucking herself under your arm and wrapping hers around you, looking up at you slightly with a proud, elated smile, eyes still slightly teary.
Returning the expression, you press a small kiss to her nose.
"Welcome home, Baby."
You shake your head.
"Congrats on the win, Baby, this is your moment right now. Go celebrate for a bit, we've got all the time in the world now."
She pouts but relents with a small peck and nudge.
"KYRA, YOU KNEW?!"
The shouts of the Irish captain make her jump but chuckle a little as a gloating midfielder teases the rest of the girls.
Yeah. She was in for it.
-------
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prythianpages · 2 days
Text
Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader
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summary: you and your daughter return back from visiting your family in the Middle with an unexpected surprise.
warnings: fluff; mentions of a scorpion (yes, there's a spider in the pic above but I could not stomach using a scorpion picture since I find them so creepy lol)
a/n: This is a little imagine for my Dandelions series since I miss Az & witch reader. If you'd like to read as a stand alone imagine, all you have to know is that reader is a witch and is an established relationship with Az and they have a daughter.
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You’re still not back.
Azriel knows he shouldn’t worry. When he had asked Rhysand to reach out to you, you had let him know that you and your daughter would not make it in time for dinner but that all was well. Knowing that, that wouldn’t be enough for him, you had also flooded him with reassurance and love through the bond. Visiting your family has become more frequent since Melaina’s birth. 
Azriel had chosen to stay behind this time.
The memory of the last visit lingered—your mother pestering him for a lock of his hair, her intentions veiled behind a wicked gleam in her eye. You hadn't voiced her reasons, but the instant glare you shot her with conveyed enough. Despite over a decade together, tension still simmered between Azriel and your mother. Her overbearing and overprotective nature remained unchanged, and Azriel couldn't bring himself to blame her.
Regret begins to crawl in, his shadows slithering along his limbs, as he realizes that perhaps, he should’ve accompanied you both. He glances at Rhysand lounging on the couch opposite, contemplating asking him to check on you once more. Rhysand's lips quirk up, meeting Azriel's gaze. Even Feyre shoots him an amused glance.
But before Azriel can even ask them to check up on you, there’s a round of three familiar knocks echoing through the river house. He’s rising to his feet in a heartbeat, feeling the warmth of your nearby presence pouring through the bond. When he opens the door, he’s greeted by the green glow of your magic as both you and your daughter appear in front of him, standing hand in hand.
His shadows reach out, tentatively brushing against your skin, as if searching for injuries, even though they expect none. It’s just a habit now. Meanwhile, the ones that darted toward Melaina dance around her own shadows, the tendrils greeting each other with familiarity, akin to old friends.
“Please, don’t be mad,” you say to him and the smile doesn’t falter on his face. Not when you wrap your arms around his neck and soften the oncoming blow with a kiss. He could never be mad at you, he thinks, as he’s blissfully overwhelmed by you.
“I could never,” he voices in a murmur as he pulls away. To which you only respond with a smile that radiates pure mischief. Your hand finds his and he lets you guide him back toward the sitting room, where Melaina had quietly headed to.
“Whatcha got there, Azriel jr?” Cassian asks with a grin, curious to see what your daughter is holding so dear to her chest.
"Uncle Cas, I got a pet!" Melaina chirps, a bounce in her step as she approaches Cassian, her wings fluttering behind her. Azriel feels a sweet ache in his chest, mirrored by your gentle squeeze of his hand.
"Oh! Let me see!" Cassian's twins and Nyx rush toward her in excitement, eager to catch a glimpse of her new pet. Azriel casts a side glance toward you, noticing the way you bite your lip. 
Suddenly, a shriek pierces the air, drawing Azriel's attention sharply toward his daughter and Cassian. “Mother’s tits, what the fuck is that thing?”  Cassian exclaims, eyes widening in horror while Rhysand throws his head back in laughter.
“Language!” You hiss at Cassian with a glare.
Azriel blinks in surprise, torn between amusement and concern at the sight of one of the strongest Illyrian warriors cowering behind his sons and the giant scorpion cradled like a baby in his daughter’s arms. It’s as big as a small pup, for Cauldron’s sake.
“You got our daughter a pet scorpion?” He asks, turning back to you.
“I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her,” you reply sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes with that soft look in your eyes that has him melting. He senses Melaina must’ve given you that same look earlier.  “My mother placed an enlargement spell over the scorpion so we wouldn’t lose sight of it.”
"Lovely," Azriel says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but a grin tugs at his lips. He looks back at Melaina, who is beaming as she sets her "pet" down, eliciting another cry from Cassian and laughter from the others. Oh, he’s going to enjoy every second of this.
Nesta rolls her eyes, rising from her seat to kneel down and run a curious finger down the scorpion's back. Her sons join her, seemingly braver than their father. Feyre giggles and Rhysand shakes his head with an amused gleam in his eyes. Yet, he sinks further into the cushions of the couch, wanting to keep a safe distance from the scorpion. Mor tucks her legs beneath her, sharing the sentiment, and taking a large swig of her wine. Amren remains unfazed.
Nyx turns to his parents, blue eyes bright. “Can I have a pet too?” he asks in a pleading tone and Azriel swears the blood drains from Rhysand’s face, violet eyes flickering between his son and the scorpion. Feyre’s giggles come to an abrupt halt.
“Yes but maybe something cu—“ Feyre stops herself at the pointed look you send. “Something smaller,” she says instead with a sheepish smile and there’s a subtle sigh of relief escaping from Rhysand’s lips.
“Me too!”
“Me too!”
Cassian’s twins, Cardan and Calian, say in unison, looking toward their father with pouts on their lips. “Ask your mother.”
Nesta’s eyes burn into him. “Of course you can,” she replies and the boys squeal in delight. Her lips curve into a wicked smirk as she rises to her feet and makes her way back to her mate. “Perhaps, y/n can take us to the same shop she got Mel’s at.”
“Oh, yes! There was just the cutest snake, longing for a good home.” You grin as Cassian shakes his head no. “The color of it’s shimmering scales matches the exact shade of Cas’s siphons. I think it’s meant to be!"
“Perfect!"
“Does your pet have a name, girl?” Amren asks your daughter.
“His name is Sprinkles!” Melaina chirps, clasping her hands together when the scorpion’s claws pinch at nothing. Her shadows echo her joy, pulsing as they snake down her legs and wrap around Sprinkle’s pointed tail.  “Isn’t he just adorable?”
“Absolutely!” You are quick to reply, despite Cassian’s protests in the background. 
You beam down at your daughter the way same Melaina beams down at Sprinkle. Azriel just knows you genuinely mean it. The depth of your admiration for all life is one he enjoys watching but even more so, when all life admires you back. It’s as if every creature, every living being can sense your light. Sprinkles seems drawn to it too, slowly crawling over to you and brushing its stinger against your leg in what appears to be an affectionate gesture. Your grin widens. 
For a moment, Azriel wonders how your spider and the scorpion will get along, but as his daughter’s giggle reaches his ear, he pushes the thought aside. He'll deal with that later. For now, he simply basks in the joy of his mate and daughter with a fond smile on his own face.
Because as long as his girls are happy, he’s happy... even if his own skin crawls at the sight of your daughter’s new pet.
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a/n: I picture Mel as a softer version of Wednesday Addams 🖤 So I couldn't help myself with this one. Hope you all enjoyed it!
I still want to write an imagine for when reader and Az find out they're expecting Mel but am waiting for the inspo to hit me for that one so if you have any suggestions, I'm all for them 👀 I also have this thought of Mel developing a crush on Eris's son when she's older, which totally makes Az freak out lol.
tagging: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage
if you asked to be tagged in this series and I didn't tag you, please let me know! I've lost track of some tag requests 😅
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bedsyandco · 16 hours
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𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰. 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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pairing: gf!reader x jack hughes
summary: in which you and your boyfriend bake together !!
note: just a little blurb after a very long week. bf jack has me soft
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"babe?" your boyfriend asks, turning to look at you from his position in front of the pantry
"yeah..." you say, glancing over at him
"how am I supposed to know which one is baking powder and which one is baking soda if you threw it out in containers?" jack asks, holding two small containers out in front of him
"they look different baby," you answer, and jack pulls a face, squinting at the two different ingredients and a soft laugh escapes you before you walk closer and take the baking powder out of his hand.
"this one is the baking powder," you say, placing a kiss on his cheek, causing his frown to melt into a soft smile.
jack puts the other container back in the pantry before walking over to you, resting his head on your shoulder and curiously looking over your shoulder as you measure out more ingredients
"what are you guys doing?" luke asks as he enters the kitchen, taking a seat at the breakfast bar
"baking cookies. chocolate chip. did you have a good nap?" you ask Luke, smiling at his messed up curls
"mm not really. it was one of those where you wake up feeling even more tired than before," he mumbles, crossing his arms on the counter and laying his head on them
"you wanna measure out the sugar?" you ask jack softly, and he hums, kissing your shoulder before moving to stand next to you
"one and a half cups," you say, handing him the cups and he carefully measures out the sugar, pouring it in the glass bowl.
you couldn't help the fond smile that grows on your face at the your boyfriend's intense look of concentration. it looked like he was analyzing game tape rather than baking cookies. that was something that you adored about jack, his ability to put 110% effort into anything and everything he did.
luke pretends to gag at the love sick expression on your face and you stick your tongue out at him, accompanied by a teasing glare.
you're attention is drawn to jack again when he tells you he's done measuring out the sugar and you take a teaspoon, scooping up some more sugar and throwing it in the bowl
"one and a half cups. and a little extra for love," you say in response to jack's confused expression
"that's not in the recipe book," your boyfriend argues
"it's in my recipe book," you respond
"seems wrong but okay," jack says and luke snorts out a laugh
"not that you would know if it's wrong. you can barely cook broccoli, never mind bake cookies," luke says and Jack glares at him
"first of all, no one was speaking to you. secondly I can make broccoli. babe I can-"
"I know. You've cooked it for me. Your broccoli is great baby," you reassure him and exchange an amused glance with Luke
you put the cookies in the oven, and set a timer, all three of you moving to sit in the living room, jack pulling you onto his lap
“did you guys not bake with you mom when you were younger?" you ask, your hands running through jack's hair
"we did. we were just too busy fighting over who got to lick out the bowl. so we didn't really pay enough attention to learn anything" jack says, his tone amused and luke lets out a little laugh
"well who won?" you ask
"no one really. quinny would always say we could have it and then make me and luke split it evenly," jack says, a fond smile on his face while thinking about his older brother
"sounds like quinn," your respond, and jack squeezes your knee
later on you go to the kitchen, grabbing three cookies from the cooling rack and retaking your spot on jack's lap, watching his expression closely while he eats the cookie.
"mm this is really good," jack mumbles and you grin
"yeah?"
"mhm. the little extra love really took it to another level," jack says causing you to giggle and he presses a kiss to your cheek
"I love you," you say, rubbing a crumb off his lip and he nips at your finger playfully
"I love you more baby,"
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Text
CS55E3
Pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader
Genre: smut
Warnings: blowjob (male receiving), pole dancing (lol), sex
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You caught him staring at you. A tall and handsome man whom you were sure was way more than a few years older than you. You felt tingly- the way his darkening eyes were checking you out. You waited until his eyes finished scanning your body and landed on yours. You slightly smirked at him with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled back with a slight shrug. You rose your glass addressing him and he reflected your actions.
Smiling at yourself, you bottomed your drink and went over to the dance floor where your friends were at. It was a typical uni weekend where you had decided along with your roommates to hit the club. The minute you did hit the club word had gotten out that there’d be some drivers from the race that was held earlier that evening.
Dancing your way into the middle, you let yourself get lost in the music. Your friends circled you, the blonde one next to you leaning into whisper, “There’s this like super hot guy who’s checking you out.”
The one next to her, winked at you while acting all surprised. You swatted her shoulder sending a smirk her way.
“I heard he’s a part of the group of racing drivers who dropped by- Carlos Sainz,” your friend whispered.
“He’s probably not the fastest when it comes to getting girls I guess. He’s been looking but not doing nothing,” you screamed back at her over the music.
Unbeknowst to you and your friends, the handsome guy you guys were talking about was lurking close by and he happened to hear the comment you had just made on him. Chuckling at your naivety, he inched closer to you. Your friends nodded at him approvingly and moved onto their dancing partners.
As the music and lights changed to the new song being played, you felt a strong pair of arms envelope your waist. You leaned into the chest knowing exactly who it was.
“I’m not fast enough?” A thick Spanish accent asked.
Grinning at the question you turned yourself around in his arms and hooked your hands around his neck, moving along to the beat of the music.
“Took you some time, Carlos” you teased him.
“So you know me?” He asked with an amused smile.
“Happened to hear your name.”
He chuckled at that knowing you were playing hard to get. But he wanted you. He wanted you now and he would do anything to get that. The minute he had laid his eyes on you when you went over to the bartender to get your drink- in a dress that sparkled so bright he could see you as you walked over to the dance floor, strutting over to your friends.
You looked back at him feeling bold, “Wanna get outta here?”
Pulling you closer to him, Carlos replied back, “Hell yeah.”
Smiling at his response, you clasped your fingers around his much larger hand and dragged him out the club. On your way out to the back, you waved at one of your frequent friends who let you access the VIP lounges at the club. Carlos simply followed you as you took him up the stairs and into a room with darkened glass. From above you could see the entirety of the club but from below no one could see what was going on up there.
Locking the door, you pushed Carlos to the sofa and went over to the pole in the middle of the room. Meanwhile Carlos poured himself a drink. Spreading his jean clad thighs further apart he got comfortable in the sofa. You looked at him with lust filled eyes and twirled yourself around the pole, keeping his keen eyes on your bending figure.
Carlos watched in interest, his pants getting tighter around the crotch and his mind crowding with the things he wanted do to you.
The music was louder in the room than it was downstairs. You let yourself drown to the music as you showed off some pole dancing skills you had learned when you had come over for private parties with your friends up here. And then the when the music changed you got off the pole and crawled over to where Carlos was seated. You made sure to swing your hips as you moved closer to him. Carlos downed his drink when you sat yourself right in front of him.
You leaned up to kiss him and he grabbed the back of your neck doing exactly what you wanted. Hot, passionate lips clashed onto each other as you moved your hands all over his clothed thighs. Pushing yourself off of him, you signaled at his jeans. Carlos obliged, unzipping them and letting you do the rest. You pulled them down to wear you could see his throbbing & veiny dick clearly.
Looking back up at him and making sure to maintain that eye contact you went down on him, taking as much as you could at once. The rest was covered using your steadily moving hands. Carlos groaned at the feeling of your velvety mouth envelope around his erection and let you do your thing for a while. When he was getting closer, he wrapped his fingers around your hair and deep throated you making you almost gag around him. All the while you looked back up at him as mascara painted tears ran down your face.
He tapped the side of your mouth and you let go of his dick with pop.
“I wanna cum inside you cariño,” he demanded at you with a stern voice.
Sliding out of your panties, you sat atop him while he locked in your lips again, pulling you into a heated makeout session. You panted as you humped yourself on his thigh.
“Want you,” you panted in the middle while you tugged at his hair, “inside me. Now!”
It took Carlos no more convincing, and within a matter of movements he was inside you. You dug your head into his shoulder as you took in the scent from the shirt he was wearing. Lifting your head up a little you placed kissed on his neck and whispered, “Fuck me Carlos.”
Guiding your hips he set your pace. As exhausted as you felt you kept going wanting to feel you reach your high. When Carlos was close as he subdued his fast pace to slower and deeper thrusts. You held onto his shoulders as he marked hickies all over your chest.
“I’m close,” you murmured at him.
“Come with me baby,” he muttered back, “Fuck just like that.”
With that, the ever twisting coil inside you came undone and you felt his whites warming up your insides at the same time.
You tried to catch your breath as you laid your head against his chest. Too exhausted to speak or anything.
“You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had,” you murmured as you lifted your head up to peck him on the lips.
Carlos slightly chuckled at your comment, feeling himself going soft inside you. But the moment you stirred when he guided your face to leave a ravishing kiss he got hard again. With widened eyes you broke off the kiss and looked back up at him.
“Shall we continue this in my hotel room?”
Leaning down to seal a kiss in agreement to his suggestion, you rolled off of him and pulled your panties back up.
Before you were walked out of the private room Carlos pulled you into a kiss and spoke to the shell of your ear,
“This was way better than winning the race.”
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beenbaanbuun · 2 days
Text
country boy w/ mingi
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thinking thoughts about country boy mingi who talks to you in a southern drawl as he leans his upper body on the bonnet of his truck. he’s so shameless with the way he looks you up and down, and you really don’t mind at all. in fact, you almost wish you could swap places with that stupid toothpick he keeps dangling from his pretty lips.
“don’t you think you ought to be getting home, doll?” he croons at you as you push yourself up to sit on the hood. the way your thighs spread against the red metal makes him salivate, but he’s a strong man. he can control himself, “i don’t think your daddy is my biggest fan; he wouldn’t appreciate you hanging around someone like me after sunset.”
as much as you hate to admit it, mingi is right; something about the farm boy from the neighbouring ranch just didn’t sit right with your daddy. maybe it’s his cocky way of speaking, or the rumours that get passed around town by all the pretty buckle bunnies who had their turn with him. the cowboy had built quite a reputation for himself, over the years. he likes to fuck and chuck; he’d rarely beds the same girl twice, and never more than three times. those brief encounters seem to be enough for most of the women you come across in the local bars—they do nothing but rave about how nonchalant and uncaring the cowboy is in bed. apparently, the way he fucks them hard and rough makes him all the more attractive.
yet he was never anything but soft with you. soft smiles, soft words, soft touches. just soft. if only your daddy could see the way he grins at you as he pulls the hat from his head and settles it atop yours, or the way his lithe fingers tighten the string around your chin to secure the hat in place. the deep chuckle that leaves him as the brim falls over your eyes goes straight to your chest, your heart beating unhealthily quick.
“my daddy doesn’t control me,” you push the brim up so you can see his pretty face. his skin is gorgeously tan from all those hours he spends in the field with his boss’s horses. you often watch him from your window, sketchbook in hand as you messily draw him over and over. he doesn’t look quite as good in graphite as he does through the glass of your bedroom window. seeing him like this, so close that you could touch him, is even better, “and i’m not really to go home yet. besides, didn’t you promise me a ride on mr campbell’s prize pony?
he smiles and it shines brighter than the sun that’s taking its time in sinking below the horizon. his laugh puts the sound of morning birds to shame. his skin is smoother than your daddy’s whiskey, and his eyes sharper than his switchblade. nothing compares to him, you figure as you gaze into his deep hazelnut eyes; you could watch him and never hunger for anything else. you’d be sustained for life.
“sure i did, doll,” he takes the toothpick out and flicks it to the ground. you watch as it lands in the dirt by his dusty leather boots before letting your eyes drag themselves back up his body to reach his eyes. every part of him is just as pretty as the next and you find that the more you stare, the more you want to have him, “but it’s getting to be dark soon, and like i said, your daddy doesn’t approve of me. i’m not quite good enough for his little princess, am i?”
“i think you’re good enough for me,” you blurt out, heat immediately rising to your face as you take in what you’ve just said. humiliating yourself in front of the man you’ve been dreaming about for years is never good, especially not when you see the man almost every day. you look to the floor, cursing yourself as you hear mingi hum in amusement. it’s not for long, though. he catches your chin on one long finger, drawing your eyes back up to his.
“i’m sure you do, doll,” his voice is teasing, as is his lopsided grin. it sends a shiver down your spine as he taunts you, “precious little thing, thinking i don’t see the way you stare at me from your window. i see the hearts in your eyes, y’know. the way they turn green whenever you see me with one of those towny girls. it's cute; you’re cute.”
a huge hand comes to rest on your exposed thigh. you freeze in place, eyes on his, heart in your mouth. then his other hand meets with your other thigh and without any resistance from you, he parts them just enough to shuffle his body between them. you swallow down the knot in your throat as he invades your personal space.
“part of me wants to agree with your daddy; you’re too good for me, doll. you deserve someone better,” his face is too close to yours. you’re holding your breath as if you might blow him away if you were to exhale. his own fans across your face, the scent of mint and menthol filling your senses. suddenly, it’s your favourite smell in the world, “but then again, i tend to be possessive over things i consider to be mine… and i don’t think i could bear it if i were to see my doll hanging off another man’s arm, hm?”
he whispers that last bit, the slow drawl of his accent echoing through your brain, turning your thoughts to mush. you’re sure he can see the effect he’s having on you; the shallow rise and fall of your chest, your swollen lip from where your teeth continuously tug against it, your glazed-over, thoughtless eyes. you’re also sure that it’s only serving to encourage him.
still, even if mingi currently has your legs in a gelatinous state and your heart ticking like a time bomb, your daddy didn’t raise a pushover. a princess, yes, but never a pushover. one of your (extremely shaky) hands finds its way to his chest, pushing at the linen-clad muscles ever-so-gently until he stumbles just a few inches back. despite your eyes not being able to find his face, you know you can do this.
“well, what about you?” your voice is feeble. you clear your throat in the hopes of making it stronger, “you think i like watching you flirt with other women? to hear all those nasty stories about what goes down in the bed of your truck?” the more you talk, the more your courage builds. you look him in the eye, only to see he’s still smirking. that beautiful, infuriating smirk, “you’re not the only possessive one, mingi. if i’m yours, you’re mine—”
the next few seconds happen in a flash, but you can pick out three key events. first, he bullies his way between your thighs again, pushing them wide and pulling you close until his pelvis is flush against yours. then, with a determined hand, he rips the hat away from your head, slamming it down onto the hood of his truck and making you jump. there’s almost no time between that and the final event, though, as before you can say a single thing more, a pair of determined lips find your own.
they’re hot as they trap you in a kiss, moving quickly and sloppily against your own. he’s quick to take charge, fingers pressing deep into the flesh of your thighs as he moves his lips against yours. it’s like he’s been waiting for this for years, and now that he’s finally got it, he’s not willing to let it go. desperate, and hard and fast, it makes your head spin in the most delicious way. so much so, in fact, that you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck to act as some sort of stability as you melt into his touch.
he pulls away for mere seconds, just enough for you to catch your breath, before diving in for more. this time, he leads with his tongue, bullying his way into your mouth as soon as his lips are on yours again. there’s no fight for dominance, the both of you already knowing that he’s the one in charge of this whole ordeal. you just let yourself sink into it, enjoying every second of him devouring your mouth.
all you can hear is moans mixed with the sound of lips smacking against lips. you can’t tell where your moans finish and his start, but perhaps it just goes to show how in sync the two of you really are.
he finally pulls away again, for good this time, and a heavy sigh falls from his lips, “i’ve always been yours, doll,” his wet lips meet your neck, and you tip your head back as a moan tumbles from your parted lips, “from the moment i met you, i was yours.”
“what about—”
“gossip spreads in a small town like this,” he cuts you off, “not everything you hear is true. you have a one-night stand to get over a girl once and suddenly you’ve slept your way through the whole town. honestly, i’m kind of glad the story focuses on how good i am in bed and not on the way i cried about you after i came…”
you can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles from your throat as he nuzzles against your neck.
“you cried about me?” you laugh.
“multiple times, doll,” he confirms, “what can i say, i’m a softie at heart.”
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silverynight · 2 days
Text
Dynamight's type
Izuku has noticed that whenever someone asks Katsuki's certain questions during interviews he gets really irritated; it's usually things about love and relationships that bother him the most.
It's one of the many reasons why Izuku hasn't told his best friend he likes him romantically; maybe Katsuki is not interested in romance at all or he just hates sharing his love life with the world.
Although it's not like Izuku ever thought he had a chance; he probably doesn't. Sometimes he thinks about looking for someone to start a relationship with.
"Let's move in together," Katsuki tells him for the... actually, Izuku has lost count of how many times he has told him that.
But Izuku always thinks he doesn't mean it because it doesn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Just because..." Katsuki says this time, looking particularly frustrated.
"We don't have the need to," Izuku points out, getting a little bit confused by his friend's response.
"I know."
"Kacchan... what if one of us starts dating soon? Wouldn't that be–"
The look Katsuki throws at him is enough to make Izuku shut up immediately; the other pro hero not only looks angry, he also seems hurt.
"Are you seeing someone?" The way Katsuki asks the question makes it look like each word is hurting him somehow.
"No, but–"
"I'm not going to start dating an extra!" Katsuki growls and, as usual, he walks away more irritated than when the day started.
Izuku honestly doesn't get it.
However, he usually goes back to normal when his patrol begins.
Until a reporter finds him after an incident; just right the moment after Katsuki and Izuku manage to save a group of people from a villain.
Actually, there are a couple of reporters, one of them even tries to corner Izuku and instead of asking him about the villain or the civilians, she asks Izuku about romance.
Alright, Izuku has started to get why Katsuki gets irritated at those type of questions.
"Are you dating someone at the moment, Deku?" The young woman asks, smiling at him and using one of her fingers to play with her own hair.
Izuku doesn't understand; is she nervous?
"Uhh... no."
"That's great!"
Not that far from him, one of the reporters is asking about Katsuki's type... again.
"So what would your ideal date be, Deku?" The reporter manages to draw Izuku's attention away from his friend.
"Maybe an amusement park? Sharing a crepe?" The green haired hero doesn't mean to make it sound like a question, but interviews always make him feel flustered.
"That'd be a perfect date for me too!" The girl says. "Would you like to–"
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW MY FUCKING TYPE?" Katsuki's loud voice cuts off the reporter who's interviewing Izuku.
"Of course, Dynamight!" It's a good thing most of the reporters are used to Katsuki's explosive personality already.
Instead of answering right away, Katsuki gets closer to Izuku and to everyone's surprise, grabs the other pro hero's freckled face and kisses him on the lips.
"There. That's my type!" Katsuki growls as Izuku's face turns completely pink. "Him. Only this nerd. Now, fuck off!"
The female reporter who was asking Izuku questions looks particularly upset about what happened, although it seems like she's a little bit reluctant to go... but she does anyway when she notices Katsuki is glaring at her.
Izuku doesn't get his hopes up, because it's obvious that Katsuki only wanted them to stop asking questions about his love life.
"But Kacchan... they're going to think we are–"
"Move in with me."
"Why?"
It feels like this is not the moment to have the same conversation all over again, but there's something different in Katsuki's eyes this time; he looks determined.
"Because I'm in love with you, oblivious nerd!"
Izuku's face is on fire, he's sure of it; Katsuki just told him he loved him. It almost seems like it's a dream.
"Are you sure, Kacchan?" His voice doesn't sound shaky at all, which is something Izuku feels ridiculously proud of.
"Of course I am! Wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't!"
After a heartbeat in which Izuku thinks about all the time they've been together and tells himself this is going to work, he nods.
"Let's move in together, Kacchan."
Just a year later, Katsuki proposes to him and of course, Izuku can't help but tear up. He's never been so happy before.
***
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