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#I want to play places please ALL THE TIME
moondirti · 2 days
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Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
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[I only have 30 pounds in my bank account] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)
Mafia!TF141*F!Reader, but only Soap and Ghost in this chapter unless I extend this
chapter 2
You’re just trying to fulfill your dream, plus survive with the money you earn with your shop, but you start questioning if this is a good idea, maybe you should just listen to your friend and be a 9-5 worker, sitting in front of a laptop the whole day.
This isn’t a good location to open a tea shop, your little shop will rather become a place for dealing drugs or getting extorted in the first month. The area is fully ruled by the mafia, hence the cops couldn’t do anything here, but it makes the rent extremely low, which you’re able to afford with money you saved during school, and have a tiny shop that can barely squeeze in more than 8 people.
Looking at the scene playing in your shop for the fifth time this month, you stare at the people fighting and break the cup with dead eyes. You want to shout, to kick these guys' ass out of here or hit them with your broom, yet you glance at their muscles and the knives in their hand –  probably killing every day as work out, to your opposite one because you slump onto the bed once you close the shop and go upstairs, you choose to remain silent as the yelling only become louder.
Maybe you should find the mafia boss or some henchmen and give them half of your income to prevent the mayhem, but first, you don’t even know who actually rules this fucking place; second, you doubt they will have interest in your skimpy bank account. The only information you have is the mafia ruling here called ‘141’, since it’s an open secret to residents here.
“What are ye arseholes doin’?”
Fuck, here comes another one, or two as you spot the man with a balaclava behind the mohawk man who's speaking. They are tall, muscular and built like bricks. Grown like giraffes either, you complement when you need to crook your neck up to look at them stepping into your shop as if it's their backyard.
but the chaos halts immediately as you watch your ‘customers’ seem shocked with terror at the men.
You pretend you’re deaf and attempt to bury yourself in your counter. Please don’t kill me I didn’t hear a goddamn word and didn’t see you threatening them. You recite your defense as you scrub at the same tea cup till the distinct accent from the mohawk man catches you off guard that you almost drop it.
“I guess it’s already clean, lass.” A smirk appears on his face as he points at the cup.
“Wh– what do you want?” 
“Calm down, jus’ want te have some tea.”
“I only have 30 pounds in my bank account.”
“We’re just sayin’ we want tea.” The taller man speaks for the first time after coming in, and it startles you but forces your brain to function at the same time.
Ah, they aren’t here for money. You finally get what they’re talking about.
“Isn’t it supposed te be a tea shop here? One cup for him, and give me a cup of coffee.”
“Oh, of course. What kind of tea would you like, Sir?” You shift slightly to meet the other man’s eyes, and you want to shiver under his cold eyes.
“Just give him whatever you recommend.” 
They round over the glass scattering on the floor and take a seat closest to your counter after you nod at them.
While boiling the water, you sneak a glimpse at them, and the shape of guns covered by their clothes are unignorable as you scold yourself to stop looking at them, or the bigger guy might stab your eyes, but you still curse whole-heartedly in mind when the Scottish accent man meet your eyes with his azure ones and shines you a grin.
Should just quit staring, or you shouldn’t open this shop at all. Regretting your decisions as you turn back and focus back on making their drink, you’re able to recognize them staring at you from the periphery of your vision. Is it too late to kneel down and beg for your life right now?
You still perfectly make their orders and bring them the drinks, even though you’re sweating internally. At least don’t mess it up, and your confidence in your tea and coffee isn’t born from nothing, as you notice the man with the skull balaclava takes a sip first, then raises his eyebrow, added with a side glance at you.
“Haven’t seen him amazed by tea in years, it must be very good.” The mohawk man whistles as he sips at his coffee and gives an approving nod too.
“Thank you…” Your ego shouldn’t be boosted by mafias, but you still relax a bit knowing you didn't screwed up.
“When did ye open ‘is shop?” The man asks while the other continues drinking his tea, but seemingly taking in the conversation too.
“About two months ago."
"That’s why we didn't know about it before…” He taps at the table twice before shooting you another question “Got blokes like those in yer shop earlier often?”
Death sentence is served to your front, that’s what you think you hear. Is it better to say yes or no? Judging by the fact those people are their minions, you’re not sure if saying yes is indicating they haven’t controlled them appropriately.
“Tell us the truth” 
“Yeah, it’s the fifth time this month.” Swallowing, you confirm. Lies aren’t meaningful, and surely they’re able to pierce any veil with those scrutinizing stares and keen minds.
You watch them sharing a glance, and Soap takes out a pen along with a piece of paper, and starts scribbling on it.
“Here, call this number when you run in trouble, aye?" He shoves the paper into your grasp “I’m Soap, call him Ghost.”
"It’s a nice shop, we’ll come back soon.”
Your little shop drops into peace again as your customers leave, and you gaze at the generous tip lying on your counter, to the paper in your palm.
A number is written on it, with a big badge of ‘141’ beside it.
Oh shit, so your shop just became the most far-flung mafia’s property without you knowing.
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rafecameroninterlude · 23 hours
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rafe cameron lactation kink + him dry humping🫣🫣
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warnings: domestic!rafe, dad!rafe, husband!rafe, slight nipple play, titty sucking, dry humping, brief mention of being insecure
“why are you covering yourself?” rafe laughed, sitting up under the covers as you made your way to your shared bed. “baby fell asleep before i could nurse. now i’m all swollen..” you mumbled, wincing once you curled into rafe’s chest. “want me to get the pump?” he was about to get up but you stopped him, a sigh leaving your lips. “no, m’too tired for that right now.” you draped a leg over his waist, clinging to him so he couldn’t go anywhere. rafe hummed, rubbing a large hand down your backside. “jesus christ.” he looked down between the two of you.
your tits were practically spilling out of your nightgown, the swells of your breasts so plump and full, rafe couldn’t help but reach out and take one in his hand. you gasped softly, your eyes fluttering open as he ran his thumb across your nipple. “please be gentle, i’m so sensitive right now.” you laid on your back, allowing your husband to pull the neckline of your gown down. “shit, you look so good like this.” rafe ignored your words, grabbing you more firmly. biting your lip to keep quiet, your fingers wrapped around his wrist in a poor attempt to make him loosen his grip.
rafe rolled one of your sensitive buds between his fingers, his mouth falling open when a single drop of milk trickled down his hand. “rafe..” your hid your face in embarrassment, only for him to cup your chin to make you look up at him. you watched as he brought his hand up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the milky substance with a satisfied hum. “i understand why our baby always wants to be latched onto you,” he squeezed your nipple once more, “you taste so fucking good.” he hovered above you, sliding between your thighs. “is there milk packs in the freezer?” you eyed rafe.
“no. i was going to make some in the morning,” he nodded, lowering his head, “why?” just as you asked him, he muttered a ‘sorry, kid.’ before his lips wrapped around your perky bud. “oh!” you whimpered, running your nails across his buzzed head. your hips instinctively moved against his, both of you moaning in unison. “do you like this?” rafe swirled his tongue, the wet sound making you flustered. “mhmmm,” you hummed, eyebrows knitting in pleasure. you knew rafe loved your tits, but enough to drink from them? you felt dumb for feeling insecure in the first place.
“don’t want you to stop.” you arched into him, his erection sitting snuggly between your folds. the thin material both of your underwear did nothing to conceal you from the head of his cock rubbing against your clit. “oh, my god,” rafe was shamelessly grinding against you, both of you trying your hardest to keep your moans and groans at bay. a particular stroke of his hips had you yelping, his hand coming up to clamp over your mouth. “shhh, you don’t want to wake the baby up, now do you?” you shook your head, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
rafe couldn’t believe he didn’t do this sooner. he was already obsessed with everything about you, he didn’t think there was anything else to obsess over. but this? he coudn’t get enough of it. your were holding his head in place while you let out the prettiest little cries, his movements faltering as he cummed inside his boxers. not long after, your thighs trembled around his waist while you clenched around nothing, your orgasm ripping right through you. thankfully, rafe’s palm was helpful in muffling your scream of his name, his mouth pulling away from your tit with a pop.
rafe helped you come down from your high, the corner of his lips lifting in a teasing smirk as he slipped off your nightgown. “let’s do that again, except this time i’m gonna fuck you stupid while i have you like this.”
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bby-deerling · 1 day
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Please a Hc about them waking you up at night cause they're horny😋 with Law & Zoro
u got it, emoji anon <3 i added robin too hehe :)
waking you up for sex (nsfw)
ft. zoro, robin, law
masterlist
tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @kibblz-n-bitz
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zoro
content as he watches the waves roll by in the early morning, zoro gazes down at the peaceful lump in his arms; you're nestled in between both his arms and a couple of blankets, perfectly snug and with a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. rosy cheeks and the easygoing calmness on your sleeping face melts his heart, but the longer he stares, the more he craves, and his thoughts wander towards places less innocent until he can't hold back his desires any longer.
"hey." he murmurs in your ear, placing a kiss along the column of your neck. you try to respond, but your voice is so groggy and raspy that it turns into an unintelligible hum. determined to rouse you, he lets his teeth graze along your flesh, nipping softly until your sleepy sounds turn into soft moans. "wanna fool around?" he asks, hand slipping into your nest of blankets to play with the hem of your nightgown. the second that you nod affirmatively and hum out a mhm, his palm splays across your inner thigh as he grasps at the plush skin, earning a soft whimper from you in return.
"wanna sixty-nine?" you suggest with a yawn as you shed the blankets from around your shoulders and spread your legs a touch wider, giving his roaming fingers access to the apex between your thighs. you don't have to tell him twice; with a feral smirk he manhandles you so your thighs are fit snugly around his face as he turns you into a mewling mess with his tongue.
it was never an even give and take with zoro; as your moans are muffled the presence of his length in your mouth, he only wants more from you, and with his hands firmly around your thighs, you don't stand a chance against his mouth, not one bit.
robin
you can always tell when robin is dreaming about you by the way she grabs you in her sleep, which usually wakes you up in the process. soft sighs leave her pretty, cryptic lips as her hands wander, leaving her blissfully unaware that she's firmly grasping your breast while she dreams, her hand twitching ever so often as your face begins to burn up with need.
sometimes she doesn't wake up from this state, falling into another dream and leaving you feeling restless, hot, and needy; however, this time she stirs, making your thighs twitch with excitement as she slowly gains her bearings. her grip on you loosens, and she hesitates for a brief moment until you spin around and press your lips to her cheek. "how was your dream?" you murmur cheekily, stroking the side of her face lovingly.
relaxing into your touch, she allows her lips to curl into a soft, sly smirk. "lovely, though this is much nicer." she replies smoothly as the scent of rose petals wafts into your nostrils and a few extra hands grab at your waist, stroke your hair, and shift you onto your back; her touch is so gentle that you barely even recognize you're pinned to the mattress until you try to move your wrists to reach out and hold robin's face as she kisses you. she could spawn an infinite number of hands to touch you, to caress you and unravel you in countless different ways, but nothing compares to the way she uses her tongue—to kiss you, to praise you, but most of all, to defile you, making you property of the devil child.
and when she's done, you give her all she's given you and more, to the best of your ability; after all, you love her to pieces.
law
law feels so guilty as he shakes you gently from a sound sleep, especially when you let out a whine of frustration as you emerge from your deep slumber, but he found himself going crazy from the feeling of your warm breath on his chest and your hot core against his leg, your limbs tying knots together. "you okay?" you mumble, not quite awake as your arms loosen from around his waist and stretch above your head, letting out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a squeak in the process.
he nods, letting one of his inked hands trail along your side, gently tracing patterns along your torso until it settles at your waist. "just couldn't sleep." he replies, voice raspy as he presses a kiss onto your forehead, and then your cheek, and then your lips, claiming them with a soft, yet strong intensity that makes you melt into him instantly. fingers threading through his hair, you pull him closer as his hands start to wander; still shaking off the weight of sleep, you're putty in his hands, and want him to treat you accordingly, with heated kisses and gentle, kneading hands.
"i was dreaming about you." you murmur as his thumb softly caresses your cheek, complementing the slow drag of his tongue along the column of your neck.
"oh yeah?" he mumbles into your skin, amused. inked fingers slide down your supple skin, tattooed fingers running up and down your hip bone teasingly. "tell me about it." he prods, earning a bashful giggle from you as you lean into his ear and tell him all the things you want him to do to you with hushed tones and heated words.
he takes notes and follows through on each of your dirty thoughts, grateful that you didn't mind being woken up and that the two of you shared the same wavelength, craving each other in the dead of night.
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russo-woso · 1 day
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Wimbledon || Leah Williamson
Based on this Request here. Thank you anon for sending it in :)
First of all, I don’t know anything about tennis or Wimbledon so this was a guess. Hopefully it works like this.
Warning smut, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, top!leah
Tennis had always been your life.
Your mum and her sisters had grown up playing tennis, and so you were bound to play it too.
Being the only daughter, niece and granddaughter, it was up to you to continue their legacy.
And that’s what you did.
You collapsed to the floor in happiness as the ball hit your racket for the final time.
After weeks of going through knockout stages, you had won.
After years of injuries and constant hard work, you had won.
Winning Wimbledon had only ever been your dream since the age of four, and here you were collecting the trophy from princess Kate.
Lifting the trophy up in the air, your eyes connected with your family, tears streaming down their faces, but there was another person who looked even more prouder.
Your fiancé, Leah, was sat next to your mum, smiling through the tears that welled in her eyes.
You blew her a kiss, Leah immediately blowing one back.
Once shaking hands with everyone, you made your way back to your designated changing room where you were met with Leah.
Leah had her arms open, waiting for you to jump in them.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” She mumbled in your hair, placing you back on the ground before putting her lips on yours. “Listen, your family wants to go out for dinner and they’ve reserved the table for 5:30 so you’ve got just under an hour to get ready.”
“Okay, perfect. God, I can’t believe I just won Wimbledon. I’ve dreamed of winning it since I was four, Le.” You tell her and once again, she envelops you in a hug.
“I know, pretty girl and I am so proud of you.” You connected your lips with Leah’s, the kiss becoming passionate very quickly.
“Here’s the star girl. Well done hunny.” Your mum walked through the door, you and Leah separating very quickly.
“Thanks mum. It’s all thank to you that I’m here today. Thank you.” You said, hugging her.
“It’s all you, darling. You’re here today because you worked for it. Now hurry up, you two stop kissing and actually get changed. I’m not having us be late for our reservation.”
————————
“Le, stop it.” You whisper to her, removing her curious hand from your thigh.
“Come on, pretty girl, I’m just resting my hand there.” Leah responded, putting her hand on the original place it was in before it started travelling.
You looked up and tried to join the conversation but was soon distracting by Leah’s lingering fingers travelling up your thigh.
“I — umm — Do you mind if I take a minute? Le, come with.” You stuttered, stumbling out of your chair, before practically dragging Leah to the toilets. “What’s up with—” You began asking Leah but you were cut off with her lips on yours.
“I just wanna show you how proud I am.” Leah said, separating your lips from hers, reconnecting them to your jaw seconds later.
You whined as Leah nipped at your neck, marking it gently and leaving light red marks.
“We’re gonna have to be quick, love, okay? Be quiet.”
Leah’s hands travelled down your body before reaching up your dress.
“Le, please. Please don’t tease.” You whined into her shoulder, resting your head on it.
“Don’t worry, love, I won’t.”
You felt Leah’s hand touch your clit and your knees buckled from beneath you, luckily Leah held you up.
“Good girl, keep quiet.” Leah said, circling your clit at a set pace.
“Oh god - Le, it feels so good.”
“I know it does baby, but keep quiet.”
“I don’t think I can, le.” You managed to mumble into Leah’s shoulder as moans escaped your mouth.
“Lift your head up.” Leah commanded and you obeyed, meeting Leah’s eyes.
Within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours, Leah swallowing your moans.
“I’m close, le. I’m so close. Oh god - I’m gonna cum.”
You took ahold of Leah’s neck, pulling her into you so your lips were on hers, Leah swallowing all your orgasmic moans.
“I love you so much.” You told Leah, separating your lips.
“I love you too, pretty girl. We’ll continue this when we get home, okay? I’m gonna make you know how proud I am.” Leah stated, pressing her lips on your head as she helped you gain your balance on the floor.
“Y/N, Leah, are you in there?” You heard your mums voice say through the toilet door.
“Umm, yes mum, we’ll be out in a minute.” You said, stuttering some of your words.
“We’ll try leave early. I’ll come up with an excuse.” Leah told you with a smirk, opening the door and putting her hand in yours.
It was going to be a sinful night.
Requests are open :)
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lure-of-writing · 2 days
Text
His little Sister: I'm sorry
Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: none that I know of
Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.
Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal. 
Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.
Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary. 
Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room.  For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”
“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.” 
Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand. 
Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle. 
It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?”  And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe. 
Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night. 
If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him. 
He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session. 
Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own. 
As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta. 
The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand. 
Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him. 
Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training. 
Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him. 
“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again. 
“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest. 
But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!”  Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed. 
“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him. 
“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.” 
Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel. 
Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe. 
That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house.  Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down. 
“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.
“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’
“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”
The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.” 
Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he  got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.
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changbunnies · 22 hours
Text
Coy, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Bang Chan x Experienced Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot :)
♡ Word Count: 7.7k
♡ Summary: What occurs when joking about sex with your roommate leads to a shocking discovery about his lack of experience in the bedroom. 
♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but you can infer vibes if you want lol, chan is rlly insecure but reader is here to help!!, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f rec), protected piv
♡ Notes: hey yall, i wanted to write something small and fun before my next big fic so here we are :’) honestly i was torn between writing this for chan or bin and ended up choosing chan but lmk if you'd want to see a fic like this for binnie! i went super perfectionist mode and rewrote this several times…. like at least 7 fsdgdsfg but i don't want it in my drafts anymore !! just take it !!
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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All you said was a lighthearted joke- something said in jest to make your roommate-turned-best friend’s face flush red and burn all the way to the tips of his ears.
That was always the reaction Chan had when you brought up having had sex, you noticed; cheeks flushed red, eyes darting away from yours to look anywhere else, thumbs nervously twiddling where his hands rested in his lap. You assumed he had plenty of experience, but was more of a “heat of the moment” kind of guy- where you imagined he’d be confident and sure of himself with his partner, but talking about sex outside of the moment turned him into a shy, stuttering mess. 
And it’s not that you purposely went out of your way to imagine what Chan was like during sex, but your mind would often wander there on its own. He was attractive, to put it lightly- devoted to fine-tuning his muscles with diligently followed routines and strictly maintained effort. You were witness to his toned body on more than one occasion, as he often wandered around the apartment shirtless while having just woken up or doing his laundry.
It was a treat for the eyes for sure, but you were respectful. You never drooled over him- at least not anywhere but in the privacy of your bedroom. But it wasn’t just his body that you adored; he had the absolute cutest smile you’d ever seen, eyes crinkling into the prettiest crescent moons as dimples showed on his cheeks. You loved his fluffy, natural hair, and the deep brown color of his eyes, and the way warmth radiated off him when he pulled you into a hug.
So maybe you have a crush on him- but you aren’t going to act on it. You live together in a careful balance, in which you are close enough to him to become good friends while also hiding your attraction to him to maintain the peace. God forbid he doesn't return your attraction, or he does and down the line it makes things complicated. The last thing you need is to scramble for a new place to live after things between you don’t work out- you’d never be able to afford it, and you’ll gladly swallow your feelings for home security. 
But just because you couldn’t have sex with Chan, didn’t mean you couldn’t talk about it with him.
Chan is shy- that much you knew for certain. And sex, while a natural and fun part of life, is something that some people are embarrassed to be open about despite the normality. That's what you saw Chan as; a shy, easily embarrassed person. You thought it was so cute, and just a teensy bit funny; and with all that in mind, it was fun to tease him- to watch his eyes widen in surprise before he let out an awkward cough and looked away, hoping to hide the red forming on his cheeks.
So today, after bringing up how your last date ended, and seeing how brightly Chan’s face burned when you talked about the way they touched you, you couldn’t help but joke around with him. “Oh, c’mon Channie, don’t be coy. I know you’re drowning in pussy when I’m not here,” you teased him with a smirk. Considering your crush on him, you didn’t like to think about it too hard, but you did believe it- surely he brings people back to the apartment while you’re out on your dates.
“O-Oh, no, I’m not- I don’t-” he started to stutter out, and you giggled, because really, how could you believe anything else? He’s perfect- intelligent, funny, talented, as adorable as he is devastatingly hot; obviously he can get whoever he wants, and you believe he does- because Chan is certainly a fucking catch. But still, he continues to stammer and shake his head, blush spreading down his neck as he refutes your statement.
He isn’t a virgin, you have that much right; but he also isn’t some smooth operator hitting hookups with the classic “my roommate isn’t home 👀” text like you seem to think. He doesn’t even know why you think he’s secretly so cool- he’s only ever shown you the most embarrassing version of himself, much to his own chagrin. He’d like to be the person you think he is, but that’s simply not reality.
And as your giggling comes to a stop, and you really look at Chan and take in his expression, you can tell- he's being serious. "Oh," you blink in surprise, smacked with the realization that all your assumptions about him may have been entirely off base.
You frown, wondering if you've actually been making him uncomfortable this entire time. It was always meant to be in good fun, as you thought his bashful reactions were incredibly cute and endearing; but now you realize the truth. Chan isn’t shy about sex because he’s a private person- he’s shy about sex because he isn't having any.
Suddenly, you feel really embarrassed about all the times you talked about yourself; maybe it's karma for all the times you've subtly teased him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or crossed a line or anything, I didn't mean to, really-" You start to apologize, but Chan interjects, quickly shaking his head.
"N-No, no, you're fine! I just, uh-" he nervously stumbles on his words again, not even sure what he’s doing at this point. He doesn't even know why he refuted your joke so strongly- sure, it wasn’t true, but wouldn’t it be better for him if you believed it? 
Chan likes you- like, really likes you; but he can't imagine someone as experienced and confident as you will go for a guy like him. Because while he isn't a virgin, his past experiences have been woefully cringe-inducing to even recall.
He was always so eager and clumsy, with trembling hands and face so red he was sure he looked like a tomato. He was embarrassingly sensitive, every touch feeling so overwhelmingly good that he could hardly contain all the noises threatening to leave his throat. He came so fast that he didn’t even know what to do with himself when it was all said and done, hiding his face beneath his arm while he muttered a string of low apologies. 
And subjecting you to all of that? No thanks, falling off the face of the earth would be more preferable. You're the most sex positive person he's ever met, and you won’t make fun of him, he logically knows, but there’s part of him that fears it anyways. On top of that, apparently you had an extremely positive perception of his skills, and now he's ruined it.
While he's unsure what about him led you to believe he's desirable enough to have people biting at the chance to be with him, that impression, for better or worse, will never come back. So should he just be honest? Admit that he's actually really down bad for you but nowhere near confident enough to think he's enough for you?
That sounds like a bad idea. Terrible, even. Chan swallows as he looks at you, doing his best to ignore the way anxiety builds from deep in his gut. You're looking at him so patiently, caringly, that it makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Fuck it- he doesn't have to be completely honest and bear his heart on his sleeve, but he can trust you enough to admit a little bit of what he feels, right? If he can't confide in you then who else can he confide in?
"I just, uhm, I'm not very confident, I guess," he says after a careful breath, nervously scratching at the back of his neck as he darts his eyes away, "like.. in myself, or.. my skills, you know. So I just, uh.. don't have sex." You don't respond right away, simply blinking as you process the information, and regret starts to flood over the anxiety as Chan begins to overthink everything he’s admitted to you.
Really, you’re just shocked; Chan is sexy- like, really sexy. So the revelation that he isn’t confident in himself enough to enjoy sex to its fullest extent is baffling. He has such effortless charisma in other aspects of his life despite his shy nature, and you always assumed it carried over into his sex life; where his bashful looks and timid grins would melt away into someone confident and assured once the moment kicked off. 
“I could help you,” you finally offer once the initial surprise wears off, and instantly his brain is short circuiting, not even realizing that his astounded “huh?” left him audibly. You didn't really plan on confessing your attraction to Chan this way, if ever, but well.. here you are.
"It's just- you're like, the hottest person I know. Seriously. And I don't care if you lack experience, I'd have sex with you regardless," you explain, a rare blush of your own beginning to heat your face, "So, yeah, you know- if you want me like I want you, then.." You start to trail off, but you think he gets what you were intending to say.
It's a bit embarrassing to be blushing yourself considering all the casual sex you have, but it's not your fault- Chan is the only person you've caught feelings for in years, so you can't help but blush a little. Chan, meanwhile, is still stunned; you're attracted to him? You want to have sex with him? Really?
On one hand, it's exciting- you want him, he wants you, and you don't care that he's inexperienced. But still, on the other hand.. With all the experience you have, don’t you want to sleep with someone who matches your energy? He can't imagine that you'd enjoy watching him fumble his way through your time together, or that he’d bring you any pleasure with his lackluster skills.
And what would your relationship be afterwards? Just friends and roommates who happened to fuck once, or something more? Will the mutual attraction die off the moment you realize his insecurities are way more than you signed on for?
“You don’t have to answer right now,” you assure him, offering all the time he may need to think about your proposition. Maybe it won’t be the most casual of your experiences considering your massive crush on him, but how could you pass up the chance to help him? Especially when helping means having sex with the guy of your dreams- because really, that’s what Chan is.
He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, swallows the lump in his throat, and takes a breath- because despite all his fears, he really likes you, and of course he wants to fuck you. Chan always figured he’d never have a chance with you unless you experienced a huge lapse in judgment; and maybe this is one and done, maybe it doesn't mean as much for you as it does for him, but he’ll still take that chance, insecurities be damned; he’d be a fool not to.
“I want to,” he tells you, soft and timid, but certain. You smile, equally as soft, as you inch closer to him on the sofa. “Can I kiss you?” you ask him, giggling when he quickly nods. It’s cute- equally as cute as the small, involuntary noise he makes from the back of his throat when your lips touch his. You start slow, pressing long, lingering kisses to his plush lips- as soft as you always imagined.
His breath hitches when you crawl onto his lap, pulling away to look at you with widened eyes. “Too much?” you ask, ready to pull yourself off of him but he quickly shakes his head. “You’re just-” he pauses, licks his lips as his face flushes a deeper pink, but continues “..so pretty. Really pretty. Can't believe this is really happening."
It feels a bit silly being so shy to tell you how pretty you are to him when you’ve been kissing him and are quite literally sitting on top of his dick, but he can’t help the way you make him feel. It’s a simple compliment too, one that normally wouldn’t affect you very much, but makes your heart pick up ever so slightly in speed regardless; you suppose because Chan is the one saying it.
You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him again, keeping them clenched and firmly stuck to his side. You take them in your hands, guiding them to your body and resting them on your hips. “Touch me, Channie,” you breathe against his lips, “anywhere you want.” 
“Anywhere..?” he questions with a shaky exhale, hands trembling where they rest on your body. “Mhm, want to feel you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he already feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest before he’s even really begun. But he listens, hands carefully traveling up and down your body as you lean back in to continue kissing him.
You let your own hands wander as well- over his arms, across his chest, down the toned abs you can distinctly feel even beneath his sweater. You lick his bottom lip, feeling his body shiver beneath the tips of your fingers as he opens his mouth for you, letting your tongue inside.
He brings his hands to your chest, palming your breasts before he carefully squeezes them. You bring one of your hands to hover over his, encouraging him to continue by squeezing your hand atop his. He’s only touching you over your clothes, but he already feels impossibly dizzy from the excitement- he can’t even focus on how pathetic that would normally make him feel either, because your tongue in his mouth fogs his brain. 
The next time you pull away, it’s to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head so swiftly that Chan barely even has time to process what he’s about to see. He sucks in a breath as he looks at your tits; it doesn’t even matter that they’re still contained by a bra- it’s still more than enough to send him reeling. Pretty, pretty, pretty, is all he can think, his mind unable to conjure a thought any more complex than simple words.
You move your hands behind your back, ready to unhook your bra and expose yourself to him entirely, but he briefly stops you. “Can I- Can I try..?” he asks, clearly nervous but eager to try and prove himself in whatever way you’ll let him. “Course, Channie,” you smile at him as you let your arms fall back to your side, “go ahead.” You lean closer to him, bringing your hands to his shoulders as he brings his own to your back. 
You press kisses to his jaw as you wait for him to act, eventually trailing down to his neck. It makes him gasp and bite his lip, the skin of his neck evidently more sensitive than he ever even realized. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying his best not to get too distracted by the feeling of your lips on the sensitive spots of his neck before he continues.
His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra, his trembling hands causing his grip to slip more than once. It’s embarrassing how badly he’s failing at this simple task, but you pay no mind to it, continuing to kiss him as he takes his time to figure it out. You caress his arms, pulling away to reassure him when his shaking fingers mess up for the third time.
“Relax, baby, you’ve got it,” you tell him, the affectionate term unintentionally slipping out- but Chan seems to welcome it, offering you a soft smile and nod as he timidly tries again. He lets out the breath he was unconsciously holding when he finally succeeds, watching attentively as you bring your hands to the now loose straps, sliding them down your arms.
You toss your bra aside when your arms are freed from the straps, and Chan can’t help but stare at your now bare chest. He can count on a single hand the amount of tits he’s seen, so his thoughts may be a bit biased in your favor, but he firmly believes yours are the prettiest he’s ever looked at. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks to you for permission to touch them again, which you easily grant him. 
The soft noise you let out when his thumbs brush over your nipples both surprises him and makes his cock throb; he can still hardly even believe you’re really letting him touch you. “Is that good?” he asks as he does it again, intoxicated by the way you whimper and squirm. “Mhm, feels good. Feels better when they’re wet, though,” you tell him, watching as the gears turn in his brain. 
He licks his lips and leans down, bringing his face to your chest. He sticks out his tongue, slowly swiping it against one of your hardened nipples, eyes glued to your face as he does. “This what you want?” he asks, repeating the action when you gasp and nod. You thread your fingers through his hair, another whimper leaving you as he wraps his lips around your nipple and swirls his tongue around it.
You reach for his other hand and bring his fingers to your mouth, licking and coating them in your saliva. He whines at the feeling of your tongue sliding against his fingers, his imagination running wild with images of what it’d feel like on different parts of his body. Once satisfied with the wetness of his fingers, you take them from your mouth and bring them back down to the nipple currently not in his mouth. “Use them to touch me, please-” 
Chan wastes no time in doing what you ask, a soft whine escaping him when you gently tug on his hair. His cock is painfully hard and straining against his jeans that are now uncomfortably tight around him. You can feel it pressing against your ass, his eyes fluttering shut when his treatment of your nipples cause you to squirm and rub against his erection. The friction is overwhelming, your noises are intoxicating, the combination makes him dizzy with need for more. 
More of your touch on his skin, more of your pretty whimpers in his ear, more of anything and everything you’re willing to give him, he wants it all. Soon you’re reaching for the hem of Chan’s sweater, and he separates from you, allowing you to pull it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You admire him, trace his pecs and his abs with your fingers, smiling at him sweetly when he shivers beneath your touch. 
“You’re so handsome, Channie,” you tell him as you continue to run your fingers along his torso, “so hot, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.” He whines and turns his face away, a vain attempt to hide the heat that rises to it. “That’s- I-I.. didn’t know..” he mumbles shyly, hesitant to meet your gaze again- mostly because he thinks his heart will burst if he looks at you while you’re saying things like that to him.
He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to look at you without going red in the face after this, or how he’s going to be able to hear your voice again without his cock getting hard. Better yet, how is he going to look at you without thinking about how bad he wants you to be his, or for him to be yours? Either way, that’s a problem for the future- because your hands and lips are all over him, and that’s what he wants to focus on now. 
Chan sucks in a breath when your hand brushes his erection over his jeans, bites his lip when you start to undo the button, lets out a shaky exhale as you begin to pull down the zipper. He’s not sure what you’ll think of his length, but he hopes you like it, prays that it’s enough to satisfy you. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Channie,” is the first thing you say as you take it in your hand, “you’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“W-What? No way, that’s- you’re just saying that,” he pouts, the blush covering his face and ears becoming unbearably hot. You can’t mean that- he almost refuses to believe it; because he simply can’t comprehend that you would prefer him to anyone else. “I’m not, baby. I mean it,” you tell him, and the way he throbs in your hand gives away that he likes the compliment, even if he doesn’t entirely believe it’s true. 
You really are being honest; it’s not the longest you’ve ever had, but it’s among the thickest, with pretty veins that accentuate it. You want to trace them- with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, everything. And then there’s the way his pre-cum leaks from the tip, steadily dripping and pooling where it falls- all you can say is that it’s mouth-watering. The look in your eyes makes Chan feel impossibly shy, and it takes everything within him not to cover his face when your eyes meet again. 
He never imagined that look would be for him; that he would ever be deserving of your touch and affectionate words. And the sweet smile you offer him when you start to earnestly stroke his cock- he’s done for, absolutely done for. He’ll never be able to hide how bad he wants you after this- maybe he should listen to you and gain some confidence, ask you to be his before someone else steals you away. 
Chan quickly loses his ability to form coherent thought once you start picking up your pace however, your hand having quickly become slick from his pre-cum. His head falls back against the sofa, breaths growing more and more labored with each stroke of your soft, warm, wet hand. You can feel his thighs twitch beneath you, and the way his hips jolt up to try to seek further friction from your hand, though your weight atop his legs prevents him doing so. 
“Want you in my mouth,” you tell him, pleased with the way the words make him gasp and squirm, “You want that, Channie? Will you let me suck you off?” Fuck, do you even have to ask? As if there is any reality in which he would ever say no; you can have him, all of him, he doesn’t care as long as it’s you- he’ll never deny you any part of him. “Yeah, yeah, want that, please,” he breathes, an almost shameless plea for you to do whatever you want with him. 
You offer him a pretty smile, placing a quick but affectionate kiss to his lips before you remove yourself from his lap. Sinking to your knees, you pull Chan’s jeans and boxers down his legs and to his ankles, and wait for him to step out of them and spread his legs wide enough for you to fit between them. There’s an apprehensive look in his eye when you scoot closer to him, and you pause, looking up at him with concern. “Are you nervous?” you ask, ready to stop at a moment’s notice if he needs you to.
“Ah, yeah, sorry, I just-” he pauses, an awkward, nervous laugh leaving him as he averts his gaze away from yours, “I just.. ‘m worried I’m gonna cum too fast when you.. Uh, yeah, you know.” He feels a bit pathetic admitting it, and he keeps his eyes locked on a random corner of the room, still holding onto the irrational fear that you’ll judge or laugh at him. Of course, you do neither- you simply lean forward on your knees, reaching a hand up to touch his face and bring his eyes back to yours. 
“Don’t worry about that, I won’t mind if you cum fast, okay? It won’t bother me, and I won’t be mad. Just enjoy yourself,” you tell him earnestly, smiling sweetly at him when he slowly nods. You want to show him that you’re more than happy to take care of him until he gets the confidence in himself he needs, that there’s no shame in feeling so good that he can’t help but let go, that you’ll want him regardless. 
You settle back on your knees, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs until you feel like his nerves have settled. He nods to you when he’s ready, and you give him one last smile before you bring your face directly to his waiting cock. The kisses you place to the tip are already enough to have him gasping and squirming in his seat- soft, delicate, and wet. Your fingers hold him at the base, keeping it held in place even as it twitches in response to every kiss you leave behind. 
You stick out your tongue, let spit dribble down and further wet his leaking tip, and it’s positively the most erotic thing Chan has ever witnessed; he has to cover his face to stop himself from losing his mind. Head fallen back against the sofa with his arm thrown over his face, he gasps once more when he feels your tongue press against his skin. You lick slowly- whether to savor the taste or prolong the moment, Chan is unsure, but he welcomes it either way. 
He can’t suppress the throaty groan that leaves him when you drag your tongue across the entirety of his length, tracing the veins with it just as you wished to. “O-Oh my god, baby-” he gasps when you finally start to take his cock into your mouth, too far gone to realize that he too let the pet name slip out. You don’t seem to mind, at least; after all, despite this “casual” encounter, you’ve already done the same, and been more affectionate than he ever anticipated.
Chan wants to believe you’re affectionate just with him; that none of your other casual partners have ever been looked at the way you’ve looked at him, that you never called them sweet names or given them such caring glances. Maybe he’s feeding himself a delusion, but he wants to believe you want him as bad as he wants you- beyond just the physical. He wants to believe this isn’t just a one time thing, and most of all he wants to believe that you’ll fall in love with him. 
Is it normal to think about love when your cock is deep down your crush's throat? He doesn’t know- but all he can think about, apart from how amazing your mouth feels, is how much he loves and adores you. Letting his arm fall back to his side, he lifts his head from the sofa to look at you once more, and fuck, what a site you are. Eyes glassy and pretty as you gaze up at him through your lashes, cheeks flushed red, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.
The sounds you make as you bob your head are so salacious it makes his head spin, his thighs tremble with each motion of your tongue on the underside of his length, and every time his tip touches the back of your throat he can’t help but let out a moan. His fingers struggle to find purchase on the sofa’s cushion, so instead he clenches his fist, knuckles quickly turning white. You notice, of course, so you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers and letting him squeeze your hand instead. 
God, that fucks with his heart- but he hardly has any time to dwell on it. He’s barely been holding back his orgasm, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last. “Babe, baby, feels so good, I can’t- o-oh, please, ‘m gonna cum-” he babbles his warning, whimpering when you hum in response and continue to take him as deep into your mouth as he can go. His eyes roll back, cock throbbing and entire body trembling- and one more swipe of your tongue and swallow around his length is all it takes to have him cumming.
“O-Oh my- fuck, fuck, sorry, ‘m cumming, baby-” he rambles, thankfully too far gone to be embarrassed by all the things he’s saying to you. You swallow all he has to give you, not pulling off him until he starts to come down from his high and cock begins to soften. He’s dazed and breathless as he looks at you, chest heaving as his brain tries to recalibrate itself after how good you just made him feel.
You rise from your knees and set yourself back on the sofa, leaning towards Chan to kiss him after he’s caught his breath. He can taste himself on your lips, but he doesn’t hate it; there’s a strange part of him that even enjoys it. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles with a nervous pout when you pull away, “I tried to hold it back, but..” 
“Channie, I told you not to worry about that. It felt good, right? That’s all that matters,” you tell him, directing him to look at you when he tries to avert his gaze again. He swallows the anxiety down, trying to look at you without feeling like disappearing into a void. But he can tell after just a moment how sincere you’re being, and it spreads relief through his veins. It’s not that he really doubted you, but his internal dialogue is far from rational.
You’ve been so good to him since the start, and though he’s incredibly shy and equally as nervous, there’s nothing more he wants now than to return the favor. He still doubts he’s good enough to give you what you deserve, to skillfully make you cum and cry out for him, but he’ll try- God, he’ll fucking try. 
It takes all the confidence he can muster to speak what he wants to say, but he thankfully manages alright. “I want, uh- ..w-want to make you cum too,” he admits, doing his best to hold your gaze despite the way shyness claws at him and his blush burns his face. “Yeah?” you smile, honestly pretty eager to let Chan touch you more. 
While you were more than ready to keep taking the lead, to guide him along and take care of him, you’re happy to see a surge of confidence in him- even if it’s a small one. “Touch me then, Channie. Make me cum,” you tell him as you beckon him closer, letting out a soft, content hum when he kisses you. You let him guide you back until your back is flat against the sofa, spreading your legs so that he can nestle between them. 
You can feel his hands trembling again as they travel your body, but Chan doesn’t let the nerves prevent him from hooking his fingers into your pants. He continues to kiss you as he slides them down your legs, along with your panties- not just because he loves kissing you, but also because he’s not quite ready to look at your bare pussy; he genuinely thinks his heart will give out if he doesn’t mentally prepare himself first.
Pretty soon though, he does have to separate from you so he can let you slip your feet out of your clothes, and subsequently toss them to the floor with all the rest of your discarded clothing. He tries to keep his eyes locked on your face, but he can’t help but let his eyes trail down and roam over the rest of your exposed body. He’s mesmerized in an instant; you’re so impossibly pretty, every inch of you breathtaking and beautiful and- God, just perfect.
He knows his words will fail him, so he hopes his lips on yours will do enough of the talking for him, hopes that he can show how bad he adores and desires you with actions alone. You intended initially to let him take his time, but you’ve been impossibly wet and worked up this entire time; and besides, doesn’t he need a little push? 
So you take one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping center. Chan lets out an involuntary whine from the back of his throat, body shivering in response. “Y-You’re so- oh my god, how are you so wet?” he asks, as in awe of you as he is surprised. “You, baby,” you answer, voice growing shakier now that he’s rubbing his fingers between your folds, “I told you, you- you’re so handsome, you know? Get me so hot, ‘ve wanted you so bad.” 
God, he still can’t believe it- how is it possible that you’ve wanted him as bad as he’s wanted you? And there’s no way his insecurities can make him believe you’re just saying it to make him feel good about himself anymore- because he can feel the proof of your words with his fingers. “Tell me- tell me what you like, what you want, please,” he softly pleads, “need to make you feel good.”
“Inside, want your pretty fingers inside me,” you tell him, shivering when you feel the tips of his fingers pressing against your hole. He starts slow and careful, gently pushing one of his fingers inside, alternating between watching his hand and looking up to your face. You’re so slick and warm, and the way you squeeze around even just one of his fingers makes his head spin- because he can’t help but imagine how you’d feel on his cock.
“Another, add another, please,” you all but beg once you’re adjusted to how one feels, and he wastes no time in obliging you, delighting in the way it makes your eyes flutter closed. You bite your lip when he starts to instinctively move his fingers faster, little whimpers escaping as your breaths become heavier. “You sound so pretty,” he says, gasping when he realizes it caused you to clench harder around his fingers. 
Do you like when he talks to you? He doesn’t know if it’s his voice you like, or what he said in particular, but if you like it then he won’t stop. “F-Feels so amazing, I can’t- can’t stop thinking about what you’d feel like around me, want it so bad, want to be inside you,” he starts to ramble, doing his best to voice everything that comes to his mind, anything he thinks you’ll like and will have you clenching again, even if it embarrasses him to say it.
He experiments with his fingers as he talks to you- changing angles and curling his fingers, trying to find what you like the best. You gasp when he finds your spot with the tips of his fingers, body trembling and back arching. “R-Right there, fuck, feels so good, Channie, your fingers feel so good,” you tell him breathlessly, and he can’t help the way he stiffens and throbs once more in response. 
And really, how is he supposed to look at the way you shake beneath him, hear your pretty voice praise the way he’s touching you, and not get hard again? He wants nothing more than to make you cum- to make you cry and writhe in pleasure for him, because of him; almost desperate for it, he hits your spot over and over again, hoping to bring you closer and closer to the release you both crave. 
He’s mesmerized by the way your eyes roll back, by the rise and fall of your chest and tremble of your thighs; addicted to the way your moans and whimpers grow higher in pitch, and the messy, wet sounds his fingers create between your legs. Chan glances down to your pussy, taking notice of your puffy, neglected clit. 
He wants to taste it, to wrap his lips around and let his tongue lavish it, but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to get down smoothly or without messing up his rhythm; so instead, he brings his thumb to it- something he’s seen done in porn that woman always seemed to like (and he desperately hopes you like it too.) Thankfully, he gets the effect he was hoping for- you let out a whimper and squirm, nails digging into his skin. 
Chan doesn’t let up even when his wrist begins to grow sore, running purely on desire and instinct. “F-Fuck, Channie, baby, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp out, voice whiny and strained, but still oh so pretty in his ears. He can’t believe he’s actually going to make you cum, can’t believe how lucky he is; and he's utterly transfixed on the way your body moves, drunk on the sounds that freely spill from you. 
He gasps when you reach out and unexpectedly pull him closer, letting out a soft, surprised whine when you eagerly crash your lips into his. It’s the messiest kiss he’s ever had, tongues dancing and drool falling from the corners of your mouth, hot and heavy breaths passed between each other. Your thighs squeeze his hand as your orgasm takes you, entire body shaking as your back arches off the sofa, arousal gushing and further coating his fingers.
Chan slowly slides his fingers out of you as you catch your breath, meeting your gaze shyly when you open your eyes to look at him once more. He’s so fucking hard, again, and you instantly notice, much to his embarrassment. He wants to fuck you, there’s no denying it- but he can’t help but continue to feel self-conscious, even now. 
You sit up and kiss him once more, as if to dispel all doubts and worries from his racing mind. “Want you, Channie,” you tell him, voice soft, sweet, and reassuring, “do you still want me? Wanna fuck me?” He whines from deep in his throat, knowing he’d never be able to deny it, even if he wanted to. 
“Yes, God, yes, wanna fuck you,” he answers honestly, nervously chewing on his bottom lip, “b-but I- I just.. don’t want to disappoint you.” He’ll never forgive himself if he fucks this up and leaves you wanting and unsatisfied; he wants to be nothing less than perfect for you and he already knows that he isn’t. 
“Channie, baby, look at me,” you say as you reach a hand to his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes again, “you won’t disappoint me, you could never.” You place soft, comforting pecks to his lips, holding his hands and rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs until you feel him start to lose his tension. “Remember what I said? Don’t worry about anything but feeling good. I want you to cum again,” you tell him, smiling as he nods, his face flushing a deeper red. 
Leaning towards the coffee table, you reach for where you dropped your purse before sitting down with Chan, digging around inside until you find one of the spare condoms you make sure to keep for your dates. He swallows as he watches you pull it out, beyond nervous but equally as excited to finally feel you wrapped around him. 
Even just watching you tear open the packaging is enough to have him trembling, and when you glance at him to make sure he’s ready, he ignores his insecurities the best he can to offer you a timid smile. You return the smile, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a few slow pumps to make sure he’s ready. He squirms and softly whines, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, but there’s no way he’s going to let that stop him from having this moment with you. 
He shivers when you easily roll the condom down his length, biting his lip as you crawl back onto his lap after you’ve finished. His heart is beating fast and erratic, and he wonders if you can hear how loudly it’s thumping against his chest. He lies half propped up by one of the sofa’s cushions, looking up at you with eyes akin to a puppy, watching your every move with bated breath. 
You reach between your bodies to hold his cock at the base, angling it with your still soaked entrance. You let go once you start to sink down on it, moving your hand to his chest to support yourself as his cock pushes inside. “Oh, fuck-” Chan lets out a choked gasp, already overwhelmed by the sensation even before you’re fully sat on his length. 
Even with a condom on, he can still feel how warm and wet you are, your walls squeezing him so tight it takes his breath away. “Fuck, baby, oh my god, it already feels so good, what the fuck-” he gasps again once your hips are flush together. He doesn’t remember it feeling this amazing the last time he had sex; is it because he’s more sensitive from before? Or is it because it’s you? 
No matter the answer, he’s certain of one thing- and that’s that he’s definitely going to cum fast; he just hopes you meant it when you said it’s okay. He lets out an obscenely loud moan when you start to lift and drop your hips- one that would normally make him extremely embarrassed, but he feels way too good to even focus on it; all he can think about is how fucking good you feel. 
His hands squeeze your hips, and he looks at you with stars in his eyes. How can you be so pretty, so beautiful? How can you feel this good? The way he’s looking at you makes your heart stutter and pussy clench, an act that makes Chan’s head fall back against the cushion as he moans. He’s so handsome, with the way his curly hair clings to his forehead with sweat, his bitten lips and flushed cheeks- it's insane that he can't see how crazy for him you are. 
You lean forward to kiss him, bringing one of your hands up to thread your fingers through his hair as your tongue slips past his parted lips. He feels dizzy with pleasure, each of his loud moans and whines muffled only by your lips on his. You’re both panting by the time you separate, with you falling forward and burying your face into his neck. 
Your legs and knees quickly begin to scream at you, but you ignore it as best you can in favor of chasing pleasure, bouncing on his cock with all the energy you can muster. You know he won’t last much longer- he was already sensitive to start, and you can feel him twitching and throbbing more and more with each additional motion of your hips. 
“Baby, ‘m so close-” Chan whimpers, eyes rolling back when you clench around him harder. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for me, Channie? Gonna cum with me?” you ask as you snake your hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in quick circles so that you can cum together. He quickly nods and bites his lip, hands squeezing you tighter and hips rising to chase you every time you lift off him. 
It only takes a couple more rolls of your hips to have him cumming again, white, hot pleasure coursing through his veins and overwhelming every inch of his body, filling the condom with all he has to give. You follow quickly behind, hips stuttering and losing all sense of rhythm as you ride out your release. 
You collapse against his chest with a heavy sigh once you’re done, utterly exhausted from all the effort, but completely satisfied. You’re both breathless, eyes closed as you collect yourselves and racing hearts start to return to normal speed. Well, in Chan’s case it doesn’t completely return to normal; because you’re still naked on top of him, and even after having just had sex, he still can’t believe you’re here with him right now like this.
You lift your hips and let his softening cock slide out of you, laying on Chan’s side with his arm as support so you don’t fall off the sofa. You carefully remove the condom, tying it off and preparing it to be thrown away once you’re ready to get up- for now, you’re too tired to move, and you just want to stay next to Chan for as long as you can. 
You lay your leg across his body, cuddling close to him while he continues to support your weight with his arm. “How was it? Fun?” you ask him, smiling when he blushes and looks away, still unable to help being shy even after all you just did together. “Of course, you’re.. incredible,” he answers honestly, chewing on his lip before he continues, “But, were you- ..was I good enough for you..?”
“Channie, are you kidding? You were perfect, I promise,” you assure him, giggling softly when he breathes a sigh of relief. “You get stuck in your head too much, baby,” you continue, absentmindedly tracing circles in his skin as you speak, “I promise you, you could have anyone you want. I mean it when I say you’re perfect.” He still doesn’t quite believe what you’re saying is true, but he can at least accept that you believe it. 
But he wonders if you know- it’s not just anyone he wants, but you. He was only able to do this because it was you that offered- anyone else, and he would’ve instantly turned them down, or wouldn't have been able to enjoy himself if he did accept. Looking at you now reaffirms what he’s long since thought- you’re the only one for him. 
“Baby, I want you to be mine- want you to be my girlfriend,” is what he wants to say- but Chan is much too shy, and can’t bring himself to do it. “C-Can we- can we do this again sometime..?” is what he ends up saying insead. And you smile as you nod, sweetly running your fingers through his messy curls before you give him another kiss, “Course, baby. Anytime you want me, I’m yours.”
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network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety
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pb524830 · 2 days
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right where you left me
part: 7 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language, sexual content (like pure filth, please be prepared) a/n: i understand we are all quite angry with me for that last chapter. listen. it'll all work out. i promise!
I sit on the wood floor of Crisler Center, stretching out my muscles, my teammates on the floor next to me. I lean forward, my legs splayed out on either side of me. I reach as far forward as I can, groaning as my tired muscles shift. We had a grueling practice yesterday, and decided to have a wine night in one of the dance girls’ apartments before our women’s game against UConn this evening.
Bad idea.
There’s a slight ache between my eyebrows, and my stomach is churning. Though, that may be the anxiety of having to see Paige again.
I ease up off the floor, checking the time on the clock on the far end of the gym. It’s almost time for the opposing team to come in for shoot around. I sigh, debating between staying and seeing her now, or seeing her before the game and having it potentially throw off my performance. 
She makes the decision for me, jogging in with the rest of the Huskies. My heart leaps to my throat when I see her. Her hair is braided into a ponytail - her hair has gotten longer. It swings down her back as she runs. Her shoulders are broad in the warm-up. I take in the shadow under her defined cheekbones and jawline, the slight furrow of her brow as she registers my teammates, eyes brightening as they search for me. Her lips part when they land on me and catch my gaze.
I offer her a small smile and a wave. She nearly trips over her own feet. I let a small laugh escape me. She looks over to her teammates before changing direction and jogging over to me.
I’m in a tank top and flare leggings, but the way Paige is looking at me, the way her eyes are drinking me in - you’d think I was wearing the most exquisite gown in the world. “Hi,” she breathes. 
The sound of her voice sends me reeling. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. “Hi, Paige,” I smile back softly, crossing my arms. 
She gestures to me. “You look- you look really good.”
My smile grows a bit. “Not great?” I tease.
She licks her lips, returning my grin. “Fucking incredible, how’s that?”
I roll my eyes, shoving her. My fingertips spark where they connect with her arm. “It’s all the conditioning.”
Paige shakes her head, eyes trained on my face. “No, it’s more than that. You look happy.” 
I tip my head to her team. “So do you.”
“I like seeing you like this,” she says quietly, taking a step closer.
My whole body aches to reach for her, to wrap my arms around her and hug her tight, to fall to my knees and scream and sob and cry and beg her to take me back. To tell her I was stupid, and fuck maturity and growth because it’s been eight fucking months and I still just want her. 
I don’t do any of that. “You, too,” I offer back. 
I’m grateful that my teammates call me away, and I turn my back to her stubbornly. Then, I hesitate.
When I turn back around, Paige is still standing there, staring at me, a wistful look on her face. I take two hurried steps to her, then balance a hand on her shoulder to push myself up to my tiptoes. I place a soft kiss on her cheek, and her hand immediately flies to my waist.
I nearly collapse into her touch, but I hold strong. When I pull away, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are tinged pink. I pat her arm. “Good luck today,” I whisper, then I jog back into my locker room. 
The game is something of a slaughter, and it feels for some reason like Paige is playing harder. At the end of it, she’s notched 29 points, 8 assists, 3 steals, and 3 blocks. She doesn’t turn the ball over once.
Paige stays back to take pictures with some fans, but I head back into the locker room to change. We hadn’t made any plans, though I’m sure both of us had marked this game mentally on our calendars. I figure if she wants to see me, she’ll text me.
A few of the girls suggested hitting the bars after the game, just to blow off some steam. I agree, figuring if I’m far, far away from Paige, I can’t do anything stupid.
No such luck.
Within five minutes of arriving at the first bar, the entirety of the UConn women’s basketball team rolls up, very loud and clearly very ready to drink. Paige is at the center of the fuss, whooping and hollering until her eyes land on me. Her arms shoot to her sides, eyes wide with alarm as though I’ve just chastised her. I bite back a smile at how cute she is. 
Maybe it’s the shot I’ve already taken. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seen her in months. Maybe it’s the fact that the skin on my waist is still electrified from where she touched me earlier. I hold my hand up towards her, crooking my finger.
Paige’s expression shifts from bashful to curious. She makes her way over to me, leaning onto the other side of the elevated table. “Good game,” I note, swirling a straw in my dirty Shirley. She plucks the cherry out of it, popping it into her mouth. “I know,” she says smugly, smirking at me. I roll my eyes, feeling a smile tugging at my lips. “So cocky.”
“You always like that, though, huh?” 
I cock my head at her, taking a sip of my drink. “Mmm, not really.”
She places the stem of the cherry in between her teeth, chewing thoughtfully. “Maybe not on the court. But definitely in other places.”
My stomach tenses at this, and I lean further onto the table. There’s a tug in my chest, telling me this is going in a direction that it shouldn’t go. That I should stop this. 
“Like where?” I ask.
“What? You need a reminder?” She asks, slowly circling the table to reach me. She comes to a stop in front of me, bracing her hand on the table behind me. Her touch is light, but she’s effectively caging me in.
“Maybe I do,” I hum. Her eyes dart to my lips. Her other hand lands on my waist, palm gliding to my back, fingers splaying against my bare skin. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” she whispers, and I nod eagerly, reaching for her face. Her lips meet mine softly, insistently, saying everything I want to.
I miss you.
I want you.
I need you.
I let her kiss me, letting myself melt into her as her tongue pushes slowly between my lips. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way she tastes, so sweet and soft and familiar. I moan softly, and it spurs her on, her other hand moving to my waist to push her hips against mine. I kiss her back harder, breaths coming out shortly through my nose. 
“I’m going home with you tonight, aren’t I?” I pant, knowing all my bullshit about maturity and whatnot flew out the window the second her eyes met mine in this bar.
Paige nods, still kissing me hungrily. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
We hardly get inside my apartment before Paige is tugging on my clothing, muttering, “Off, off, off.” I laugh, tugging her to my room before shedding my crop top and my jeans. I push her onto my bed, straddling her waist in nothing but my panties and bra. Her hands fly to my ass, but I’m too focused on pulling her shirt off and tossing it to the side. 
Then I sag into her, balancing my arms around her shoulders and kissing her deeply.
I want to memorize the taste of her against my mouth, because I know this is only for tonight. 
Tomorrow, we go back to being strangers who know everything about one another.
Her hands fumble with the clasp of my bra, and I grin, helping her slide it off of me. “You played really good tonight,” I tell her. “Shut up,” she murmurs, fondling my tits. I sigh, tipping my head back. “No, really. It was hot,” I insist, reaching for the drawstring of her sweats, then deciding to just press my fingers into her clothed core. “If you need a game to get off too, I have a few good ones- oh, fuck, from the tournament last year.”
Her smartass comment is interrupted by me pressing hard against her core, eliciting the expletive. “You’re filthy,” I chide. “And you’re wet. Take your panties off.” She tosses me off of her, and I bounce onto the bed next to her. She pulls my panties down my legs, then gets off the bed to take off the rest of her clothing. 
“Speaking of getting off,” I mumble, watching her pull her bra over her head. I bite my lip, taking in her breasts, her nipples taught, begging to be teased. “Mm?” She grunts, slipping out of her sweats. “You still have those pictures?”
She grins at me, her smile gummy, but still arrogant. “No shit.” She tosses her boxers to the side, and I reach for her. She climbs back onto the bed, sliding her legs in between mine. I can see her cunt from the angle that I’m lying on the bed, positively glistening. “What-what do you do? With the pictures?” I ask, suddenly out of breath.
She edges her hands under my ass, pulling me closer, her pussy a tantalizing distance from mine.
“You really wanna know?”
“Please.”
She hums, and I don’t know how she isn’t giving in, isn’t rubbing herself against me the way my whole body aches for her to do. Instead, she takes my nipples in between her index finger and thumb, rolling the bud. I whine, bucking my hips. 
“I think about fucking you…”
Then, finally, finally, her clit brushes mine, and I clutch at the sheets. “Then I fuck myself,” she bites.
Then she’s grinding against me, pussy sliding against mine. The noises from our bottom halves are borderline pornographic, and I grip her waist tightly, pushing my cunt against hers. She’s slow and purposeful, each stroke, coaxing a moan out of me, sending shivers of pleasure through my body.
“I forgot… how fucking good you feel,” she groans, biting her lip as she stares down at me. I grab my tits, desperate for more, more, more.
“So fucking beautiful on top of me,” I moan, and she laughs raspily.
“You fuck me better,” she murmurs, and my brow furrows, teeth digging into my bottom lip as I watch her body move. “Mm?” I ask, and she starts going faster. 
“Than when I get myself off. This is… so much better, shit,” she whimpers, but the mere thought of her touching herself sends shocks to my core. Then she lowers her body so that our torsos are flush against each other. “Yes, faster,” I beg, bucking my hips against her. I can feel it; the pressure building in my stomach. “Paige,” I pant, tapping her waist.
“Yes, baby?” She asks, pulling back, her hips slowing. “No, keep- keep going, just… kiss me. Please.” I hate how small my voice sounds, but when she speeds up again, lips claiming mine with a smile, I can’t think of anything else.
I babble against her lips.
“Missed you, baby.”
“Missed this so bad.”
“Just want you, fuck.”
She grins at this. “Nobody else? Just want me to fuck you like this, ma?”
I nod in response, and I’m so close, so close-
“Fuck!” Tears itself from my throat as the string in my stomach snaps, my back arching against her. “Almost there, just- fuck. Oh, fuck, Maya!” Paige’s moan when she finishes is desperately scratchy. Her hips move against mine slowly as we both ease down from it. “Make me feel so good… everytime,” she pants, whispering the words into my mouth as she kisses me, her tongue chasing mine lazily.
She eases out from under me to straddle my waist, still kissing me slowly. “You got one more?” She asks. I shake my head. “Come on. Just one more for me, ma. I know you can,” she coos, kissing down my body. Her eyes meet mine as she takes a tit in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as her hand toys with the other one. I whimper at the sight, biting my lip.
“Wanna make me so proud, don’t you?” She soothes, and that’s all it takes. I give in and nod.
She grins, flipping me over and pulling me flush against the chest as she stands at the edge of the bed, propping me up on my knees. “You wanna play with your tits while I fuck you, ma? Look so pretty for me?” I oblige quickly, hands flying to my chest.
Paige tuts in my ear. “Such a good girl for me,” she whispers, trailing her hands down my body as her lips latch to my neck. I moan at the sensation, the pleasure from my nipples prickling through me with the feeling of her lips on my skin. “Yes,” I sigh. “This is such a bad idea,” she murmurs. I nod stupidly, distracted by her fingers on my inner thigh.
“But you just make me so fucking weak,” Paige groans, and the sheer desire in my voice threatens to make my knees buckle. “The sight of you in that little skirt… I’m fucked, Maya.” I shudder out a sigh, nodding as her finger presses against my sensitive clit. “I know,” I whisper. “I mean, the second I see you,” she whispers, dipping two fingers into me. My head tips back all the way, resting in the crook of her neck. “I just wanna fuck you.”
“I know,” I whine, relishing in the feeling of her fingers sliding slowly in and out of me. 
“Still want you. Just you, ma.”
I bite my lips, sighing as her thumb circles my clit. “Just you, Paige.”
She presses another soft kiss to my neck. “Good,” she whispers.
Then she’s driving into me mercilessly, and I’m crying out, sagging against her body as she hits that spot over and over and over again. Her free arm wraps around my torso as she fucks me. “Take it so good. Take it so fucking good,” she mutters, and she sounds drunk. When I crane my neck to kiss her, her eyes are just about glazed over, hungry and desperate. “I’m gonna-” I whimper. “I know,” she whispers back, her free arm now at my jaw. “Just let go,” she coaxes. “Just come for me.”
And I do, her name scratching against my throat as I fuck down against her fingers, chasing the high, going boneless when it hits me. A cry escapes my lips, but Paige is there, talking me through it. I can’t even process what she’s saying - I just feel the weight of her breath against my ear, feel the shivers her gravelly tone sends through me.
Later that night, I lay against Paige's bare chest, inhaling her scent. Tears prick at my eyes. I hate myself. I hate her.
But I don’t. I love her so goddamn much, and the thought makes me want to cry. I stare out into the darkness of my room, wondering, like I always do, if we’ve well and truly fucked this up for good.
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feltit-wroteit · 2 days
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The Nanny Diaries
Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader x Tashi Duncan/Donaldson
The nanny contract you had signed had never mentioned you falling in love with the parents of the child nor them reciprocating the feeling. But, here you were...
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her 20s), nanny!reader, hurt/comfort, poly!relationship, body guard doing his job "badly", intrusive fans
*Yes the title is inspired by a movie♡*
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"Lily... Lily, wake up sunshine." You played gently in her hair and whispered ever so slightly in order for her to not wake up in a bad mood. Today was a big day. You were finally going to bring Lily watch her father's match. Something that you had always waited for. Tashi was also excited but was too worried about Art actually performing to get over the moon about it. Art was more than excited to show his little girl how good he could play. It was a motivation that was needed for him.
You had seen him play once or twice before becoming the nanny to his child. That's how you had met them both. Somehow, hanging out in a place full of rich married couples could lend you a well paid job... You had accepted their offer and were now travelling all around the country with the couple and their amazing daughter Lily. She was a sweetheart and loved you to death. While taking care of her, you had fallen in love with her parents. Let's admit it, they were so kind to you and extremely attractive.
Nothing had prepared you for that one night where you were leaving for a week to go see your family for Christmas.
They had let you have a week off and you were packing your things in the bedroom that was reserved to you in their mansion. Suddenly, they both came in without knocking. "Y/n?" You turned around slightly surprised that they were both in your room and smiled at them. "You scared me." You giggled. They smiled and motioned for you to sit down. "Have a seat." You were confused. Why did they want to talk to you right now? "Is something wrong? Did Lily wake up? I can go put her back to sleep if you both want..." They got closer to your bed on which you were sitting and shook their head no at the same time. They were so captivating.
"No... We wanted to ask you something. But, we don't want it to change anything about this nanny contract. Lily values you too much for that." Tashi said while holding Art's hand. "Of course, ask me anything. Did I do something wrong?" You asked them, starting to worry. "No. God, everything except that, Y/n!" Art exclaimed. You looked in his eyes and was reassured by his sincere gaze.
"Do you know what polyamory is?" Tashi asked you and sat down to your right. Your eyes grew wider. "Yeah..." you felt exposed somehow. What were they thinking? "Do you like us Y/n?" Art then asked while sitting to your left. You nodded shyly. "Use your words, sweetie." Tashi said and gently rubbed your thigh. "Yeah." "Both of us? You like both of us the same?" Art started to rub your left thigh and it was all overwhelming. You got up and away from them. "Yes and I'm sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me. You two are married it's wrong of me. I'll be more subtle I swear! Just... please don't fire me. I need this job." They were now looking at you attentively while you shed some tears. "Baby... don't appologize. We're not mad, we just wanted to make sure. Because, we like you too..." Art admitted and got up closer to you to offer you comfort.
"What?" You were now very much confused and mixed up. "Y/n, we took some time to talk and we came to the realization that we want to try something out with you. We would be happy to add a beautiful and amazing woman to our relationship. If you want to try it out that is?" Tashi elaborated and you once again nodded to which the couple laughed softly. "Uh, yeah my words... sorry. Of course I would. Are you sure? When will we start? Does something like this even start?-" You were rambling again until Art put his hand on your right forearm. "When you come back from your Christmas break, we would love to take you on a date. Would you want that, sweetie?" Tashi offered and you smiled brightly. "I would love that." You aknowledged and they both wrapped you in their arms at the same time. "It's a date then." Art pointed out and kissed your cheek. You blushed and hummed yes.
The rest was history.
You had started dating them 1 year ago but it was all a secret to the media. People wouldn't understand and you were not pressed for them to do so. You were happy being their lover and being apart of this incredible family officially.
Lily had finally woken up and smiled at you. "Y/n/n?" Lily knew you were dating her parents. When she learned it five months after you started dating, she wrapped you in her arms and said thank you to her parents which made the three of you tear up. "Yes, Lil?" You took her in your arms and brought her to the bathroom to start the day. "Is dad going to win?" She asked you with worried little eyebrows while you made her sat on the sink counter. "I don't know, Lily. It never is a sure game. Especially the final match." She frowned while you handed her her toothbrush and motioned for her to brush her teeth. "But... I personnaly think he will beat the other guy. But don't say to anyone I said that. Okay?" You whispered and she finally smiled. She nodded excitedly and put her little hand on her heart. "Pinky swear?" You asked her while extending your pinky to her. She lifted hers up and you crossed them together.
When she was done in the bathroom, you helped her get dressed and got dressed yourself. Tashi had bought Lily a cute little, white tennis dress from Tommy Hilfiger that matched hers. You were wearing a pair of beige trousers, a white blouse and some loafers from Tommy too that you had picked up in the store with the help of your two partners. You took Lily's hand and left the hotel to drive up to the tournament.
When you both arrived there, there was no place to walk, litterally. Everybody was screaming and fighting their way to maybe have an autograph of the players. You took Lily in your arms and held her closely to make sure she didn't get hurt. "Y/n/n?" The girl asked for you in a tiny voice. "Yes, Lil?" You rubbed her back with your hand and tried to push through the crowd to get where the security was. "I'm scared..." Lily announced, which broke you're heart. "It's okay sweetie. I've got you, I promise. We're almost there."
When you got to the security you realized that you had forgotten your VIP pass and cursed to yourself making sure Lily didn't hear you. "Hey, I'm sorry?" You said to a guard that had his back facing you. He turned around and looked at you unimpressed. "Hi, sorry. I am VIP but I forgot my pass. Do you maybe have a list with names? I'm on there, I swear." You tried to explain but he was unfazed. "No pass, no entry." He went to turn around but you pleaded. "Please, I am with a child here..." "And what does that do? We've had this a lot. Please just wait like everyone else and don't make me use force." He answered and you groaned after Lily sobbed harder as the fans shouted more. "I'm begging of you, this child is about to have a panic attack. You do not want Art Donaldson and Tashi Donaldson's daughter having a panic attack because of you, trust me."
The guard looked you up and down and sighed. "Call them." He told you coldly. "What?" You asked bewildered. "If they asnwer, then they can prove that they know you. Otherwise..." He tsked at you and you pulled out your phone with difficulty having Lily in your arms. The phone rang and rang and Tashi didn't pick up. Fuck... "You can wait like the rest." Th bodyguard turned around after seeing your exposed face. "No wait-" You were about to make another compromise when you realised it was no use. He wasn't going to listen to you anymore.
That's when you heard it. A fan... "Omg look! That's the Donaldson's daughter!" The girl shreaked and pointed towards Lily in your arms. Then, a plethora of fans made their way towards you two and you held Lily closer. "Can we get a picture?" One boy asked to which you shook your head. "No, I'm sorry but that's a no." The fan's face changed quickly and he frowned. "Who even are you?" He asked and a lot of fans around agreed to his question and you knew it would turn bad.
"Please, I'm her Nanny... She is very anxious right now, it's not the time to cause a scene." You tried to reason with them only for a girl to scream from your left. Lily' sobs were louder and you rubbed her back soothingly trying to keep yourself calm too. "She's kidnapping the Donaldson's daughter! Stop her!" Your eyes blew wide as they all approached you dangerously with death glares.
"Y/n?" A tiny voice whispered afraid in your ears and a tear fell down your face. "I'm so sorry, Lily" While they got closer, you closed your eyes and kept Lily close in your arms.
"Get the fuck away from them!" You heard a familiar voice thunder from behind you. You didn't dare open your eyes afraid you had been dreaming it. You heard footsteps gather away from you and you finally opened your eyes. The fans had gotten away and were looking behind you with scared eyes. You turned around and were met with two sets of eyes. Art and Tashi. You had been right. It had been Tashi ordering them away. They saw your tear streaked face and hurried closer to you.
When Tashi had returned your call from earlier only for it to go to voicemail, she decided that she would come find you. Art had tagged along since his match was only in an hour.
"Y/n?" Art called you while looking at you worried. "Come on let's go..." He whispered when he put his hand on your back. Tashi got closer too and analysed you and her daughter. "Take Lily from my arms, please..." Your voice sounded weak to them and they looked at you turn by turn. Art had a worried expression on his face and Tashi looked more angry. Art took Lily in his left arm and put his right hand on the small of your back from your left. Tashi pur her left hand on top of his and guided you towards the same guard line as before. "Did you try to get through?" She softened her tone for you. You nodded and sighed. "But I forgot my pass at the hotel. I'm so sorry. It's my fault and-" You were explaining when she rubbed your back to reassure you. "Did you try to explain to a guard your situation?" You nodded once more and her jaw ticked. "Okay... let's get you two safe for now." Art proposed when he saw how pissed his wife was.
He lead you four to his locker room and as soon as you were behind closed doors, you broke down in full tears from it all. Art sat down with Lily in his arms that was now asleep from exhaustion from crying so much and Tashi was comforting you. "I'm sorry. I thought I could keep her safe. She could've been hurt." You hiccuped while looking at Lily and sobbing harder. "But she didn't because of you sweetie." Art said and locked eyes with you. You could sense he was getting mad. He had every right to be. Who would forget such an important thing like a pass? "Don't do this. Don't stay in your head... Talk to us?" Tashi asked of you when she started to notice you overthinking. "I know you're both mad at me. I would be too! I put Lily in danger-" Art cut you off at that. "Wow, wow, wow... we're not mad at you!" He was quick to explain.
You now had a confused look and Tashi kissed your lips quickly. "You thought we were mad at you, baby?" You nodded and she giggled to lighten the mood. "Oh god no! We're mad at the stupid guard and crazy fans. Come here!" She opened her arms and you sighed in relief. "Okay now, let's all relax a little before my match and then we can head to the field and have a great time. Yeah?" Art said while rubbing Lily's back and smiling at the two of you. You nodded and sat down with Tashi in front of him. She held you closely while you steadied your breathing.
The match had went well. Lily had woken up and was smiling from ear to ear while her dad made points. It was funny seeing her little frown, looking like her mom's, when the other player made his points. In the end, Art had won and you three cheered from the sideline while he was taking his winning pictures.
That night, at the hotel, Tashi put Lily to bed while you were cuddling with Art in yours. He was peppering mindless kisses all across your forehead and whispering sweet nothings. "I love you, Y/n/n. You know that we love you right? Today I got scared. I was mad, not because of you, but because I didn't know how to help you see that it wasn't your fault. I could never be mad at you, sweetie." He explained while locking his gaze with yours. "I know... I love you more though." You tried to admit while Tashi entered the room in her black babydoll. "Now, what has you lying like that?" She smiled mischeviously at you and got on the bed behind you.
This had always been how you all slept. You in the middle, Art to your left and Tashi to your right. Of course, sometimes that arrangement changed... But primarily, that was the one. "I'm not lying." You said with a smile yourself while getting on your knees to face them easily on the bed. "No... I think you're a little liar." Art said while sitting up and putting his hand on your right knee. He looked at you with desire and your mouth opened slightly. "Don't you think so too, Babe?" He asked Tashi who was also sitting up now and held your left knee. "Oh I think she is..."
Art got closer to your face and kissed your lips harshly. He held the back of your neck with his free hand and Tashi caressed your upper left leg while looking at the both of you. "We don't like liars..." She whispered in your ear and you shivered.
What had you done?
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omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?
looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33
so high school
❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader
❥ warnings; none really
❥ word count; 1.2k
❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2
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"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.
"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.
"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."
"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.
the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.
james frowned. "i don't like this game."
sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."
james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.
"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.
come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
——————————————————————
the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.
just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.
you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.
that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.
quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.
"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.
"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.
"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."
you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.
"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.
marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.
"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"
"truth."
the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."
"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."
"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.
mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.
"jamie, truth o—"
"dare."
a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.
"kiss y/n."
your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".
"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"
before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.
he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.
before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.
his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.
"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.
you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.
and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.
——————————————————————
and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.
james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 
like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.
“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”
“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.
you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”
he shrugged. “you love me.”
oh, you did.
out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”
huh?
all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.
“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.
he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”
“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”
“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”
you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.
no one’s ever had you, not like him.
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mirohlayo · 1 day
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hi lyna, I hope you're having a great day! for your event, can I request a coconut 🥥 “no one’s ever going to hurt you again. i promise you that on everything i believe in.” with charles? please and thank you!! 🩷
Here is it !! Hope you'll like it and hope you're having a great day too :))
PROMISE
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Sometimes you felt weak. Bad and sad. The world seemed to be falling apart as you tried to hold on. To hold on to that faint glimmer of hope, because in the end it was worth it.
The sky was covered in stars as you felt the coolness of the night fall on your frail skin. The tears that were slowly streaming down your face have finally dried, but your eyes are still wet from the pain of those salty drops.
The balcony door opened, Charles appearing in its frame. You loved spending a little time alone, with yourself, on the balcony at night, enjoying the beauty of the sky. But this little moment of yours was starting to seem a little too long and suspicious for Charles, who was worried about you.
He approaches you, placing his hands gently on your shoulders, his gaze concerned. He stays there for a moment, awkwardly caressing your shoulders. He didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to rush you. He can feel your body trembling slightly under his touch, and it breaks his heart, which was suffocating at the thought of you being sad.
He then walks around you, kneeling in front of you. It was there where he could see your wet eyes shining in the night, where he could become aware of your fears. You don't like to appear so weak in front of him, but at that moment you didn't care. He has the right to see you in this light, to witness your feelings.
The palm of his hand comes to rest delicately on your cheek, caressing your pale skin with his thumb. Despite your tears and your red eyes, the faint glow of the moon reflects your face with exquisite beauty, making you indefinitely beautiful and angelic. And Charles could stay for hours admiring you like that.
Your eyes are always fixed on the sky, far in front of you. You admire the constellations, because you always strangely found comfort in them. Charles follows your rhythm, follows the pace at which your thoughts race. And then, his heart wanted to comfort you.
“Tell me everything, angel. Tell me what’s on your heart, I’m here to listen to you. I promise.” His voice was only a whisper, a breath or even a sigh, so pleasantly soft. A faint smile appears on your face, noticeable enough for Charles to savor every second of it.
A silence settles, revealing the hesitation in your words. His hands then slide to your knees, and his touch spreads a comforting warmth all over your body. "I don't really know. Some people make me feel bad. That's all...". More tears threaten to fall, so you try to force them back as best you can.
You lower your head, anchoring your gaze on your hands which are nervously playing with each other. Charles' gaze softens, realizing that the silence that follows reflects your inability to say more about what you feel. He wraps your hands in his, placing a soft kiss on your fingers.
Each of his gestures are precise but delicate, extremely tender. His touch spreads a wave of love throughout your body, chasing away a little the painful feelings you currently feel. “No one’s ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.”
He could only let these few words escape in a sigh. He didn't need to say more, not yet. These words are the promise of eternal love, and that He will watch over you no matter the circumstances. Yet he really means it. He will never let anything or anyone hurt you, not as long as he is here with you.
He promised you, and he will never let that promise break.
“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?” You can just nod, before he gently places you on your bed. He pulls the white covers over you, then slides over to hold you in his arms. As sleep comes to you, he leaves long lazy kisses on your hair, enjoying the calm and serenity you feel when you are asleep.
Because he knows that when you sleep, all your sorrows and pains fade away to give way to wonderful, happy dreams. After all, that's what he hopes and wants most in the world : to see you happy.
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jaelvr · 1 day
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Nectar
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Home | NCT 127 masterlist |
Requested : yes by @couturethiquefemboy
Prompts ;  121. “I miss you, more than I thought possible.” + 66. “kiss me harder.”
Pairing : frat! jaehyun x gn! reader
Pronouns : you/yours
Type : fluff, suggestive
Word count : 5k
Content: mutual feelings, opposites, college au, basketball jock, dancer reader, fluff, slightly ooc
Have a great day !! 
——————————
You excused yourself from the group in the living room, making your way through the sea of bodies to the kitchen to grab another drink, refilling the red plastic cup of God knows what. He was sat on the counter, quick to dismiss the people in front of him as he saw you, sliding himself off before approaching you. His red-tinted sunglasses sat on top of his freshly dyed hair, the leather jacket pulled over his iconic jersey. "Hey sunshine." he murmured, his hand finding your waist. "I was wondering when you were going to come and annoy me." you chuckled, eyebrows raised as you sipped your drink. Jaehyun snickered at your retort. He was hoping you'd speak to him tonight, watching you all evening. “Just taking a break. I’ll go find someone else to annoy.” He smiled, his dimple showing against his smooth skin. “Unless you want me around?”
"Never do." you joked back, a small grin playing on your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He smiled down at you, grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer to his body, arms tight on your waist. "Never say never. I'll win you over eventually." Jaehyun gave you a cocky grin, gently nuzzling into your neck and placing kisses against it. "Keep dreaming, pretty boy." you whispered, biting your lip gently as your hand ran through his hair. Jaehyun smiled against your skin as your hand was in his hair. He kissed down your neck to your collarbone. His hands slowly made their way to your hips. Jaehyun kissed his way to your lips and finally claimed them. One hand gripping your hip, the other gently holding your chin. Your hand gently tugged on his hair as you made out, cheeks flushed. He smirked against your lips as he nipped at your bottom lip. His hand on your hip pulled you even closer. Jaehyun's tongue slipped through your lips to explore your mouth. His hand that held your chin slowly moved down your body to your thighs.
You grinned, pulling away as you heard your name being called in the other room. "That's my cue to leave." you murmured against his lips, pecking them one more time. Jaehyun was left disappointed. He wanted to keep kissing you. He leaned his forehead on yours with a smile. “Will I ever get you alone?” He whispered against your lips. Jaehyun pulled your face in for another quick kiss, his lips lingering. “I should let you go now. But please promise you’ll find time for me tonight.” He moved his hands to your hips so you could leave easily. His gaze not leaving you. "No promises, pretty boy." you giggled, kissing his cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark before you disappeared back into the crowd. Jaehyun watched you leave, still standing in the middle of the kitchen. He smirked, placing a hand over his cheek that still had your lipstick mark. He fixed his leather jacket and red-tinted sunglasses before going off to find someone else to pester.
He loved the chase, that's for sure.
----
Jaehyun slowly entered the studio, he watched your body move in the mirror. His eyes followed you gracefully throughout the room. Jaehyun loved watching you dance. He watched with such admiration. He was leaning on the door frame, just watching not wanting to interrupt your practice. You hadn't noticed him until you finished, seeing him smile as you looked up in the mirror. Jaehyun began clapping and whistling as you walked over to the stereo to turn the music off. He couldn’t help but watch you as you walked over to him. “That was quite the show sweetheart.” He smirked, his gaze roaming all over you. "Stalking me now?" you teased, shooting him a smirk as you wiped the sweat on your forehead, grabbing your towel. He followed behind you. His eyes were glued to your body as it was covered in sweat. Jaehyun bit his lip, shaking his head softly. He leaned down to your ear and grinned. “Just admiring the view.”
"Shouldn't you be in basketball practice?" you asked, head tilted as you drank some water. Jaehyun shrugged, leaning against the back wall. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I got out of practice a little bit ago. Figured you’d still be here so I came to bother you.” he smirked. “Besides… I got a better view here.” he murmured, eyes still wondering. "You always this insufferable? or just to me?" you asked, purposely bending down to place your water bottle back down. Jaehyun chuckled lightly. “Just you sunshine. You bring out the best in me.” His attention was pulled to your body when you leaned down. He licked his lips before going over to you. “You look… hot when you’re sweaty.” he murmured, arms wrapped around your waist again. "Is that so?" you murmured, hands resting on his chest. 
Jaehyun's hands slowly found their place on your hips. He smiled down at you, his thumbs gently rubbing circles. “You have no idea the things I’ve dreamt about…” he murmured, leaning a kiss to your neck. He planted a few loving kisses on your heated skin, nipping here and there. "Please do share." you murmured, smirking at him as you teased him with your wondering hands. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer to his body. He nipped and kissed all over your neck and lower jaw. “We could start out here. We could go over there.” Jaehyun gestured to the wall next to the stereo. His lips nipped at your earlobe. “Or… I can just take you right here...” Jaehyun's tone changed to a husky whisper as he kissed your skin.  "What if someone walks in?" you murmured, lips brushing against his neck. Jaehyun pressed his body against yours. “Mmm… I don’t care if someone walks in. Do you? I’d love for them to see how pretty you are.” 
"Jae..." you murmured, his name slipping out of your lips as he pressed kisses to your neck. Jaehyun paused. He pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes. He was surprised you had called him his actual name. “Say it again…” his tone was softer now. He caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. "Jaehyun…" you murmured, looking up at him. “Much better. That pretty little mouth shouldn’t say my other name. It shouldn’t say any other guy's name.” Jaehyun had pulled your whole body against his. His lips captured yours. He poured his frustrations out through his kisses. They slowly grew more desperate. "Jae, please..." you let out whimpers, messily making out with him. “Mmm? Now you ask for things...?” he whispered into your ear. He nipped at your skin to tease you. “What do you want sunshine? Tell me.” Jaehyun's voice in your ear low and dark. The want building up inside of him. He began leaving more bruising kisses on your neck and collarbone. "You..." you murmured, in a daze.
“You have me sunshine.” Jaehyun murmured against your skin. He nibbled at the skin between your neck and collarbone, leaving soft and bruising kisses in his path. “All mine...” he nipped at your skin with a grin. Jaehyun took your hands in his and backed you into the wall. “Just like that. All mine.” There was a hint of possessiveness and jealousy laced in his tone. Just as things started getting more heated, his phone went off, interrupting the moment. Jaehyun was breathing heavily. His lips trailed to your collarbone and neck one more time. He stopped before pulling away altogether, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “Goddamn it…. It’s probably coach.” He checked his phone and sighed. His breath was quick and his cheeks flushed. "S'alright, take it." you murmured, clearing your throat as you pulled away. Jaehyun paused and looked at you with an apologetic smile. He was obviously frustrated, and so close to losing it with you. He took a moment and pulled out his phone. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.” He sighed, stepping away from you. He went outside to take the call.
you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair. While this was nothing new between the two of you, it had never escalated this far. You sat down, reminding yourself that it probably meant nothing to the frat boy, doing this all the time with other people. Jaehyun took the call outside, his phone against his ear. He was pacing back and forth. The fact you let him kiss you like that was eating at him. You had turned him on more than anyone in a long time. he sighed as he hung up after a few minutes, and slowly made his way back into the studio, looking for you. Jaehyun's eyes were glued to your body as you started going through the routine again. Your body was so beautiful and graceful. He was mesmerized by you. He couldn’t help himself, his eyes took in every inch of you. Jaehyun finally stopped leaning against the doorway to walk over to you, he came up behind you. His hands slowly went around your waist, and he stood directly behind you. "Was it your coach?" you murmured, avoiding his eyes.
Jaehyun shrugged, his hands gently rubbing your sides. You could hear him take in your scent. “He can wait.” Jaehyun murmured. It drove him crazy. He moved your hair out of the way so he could plant a soft kiss on the back of your neck. "You should probably go to practice." you whispered, voice wavering slightly. "I was about to finish up and go home anyway." you lied, looking away. Jaehyun sighed, grabbing your hips tightly. He turned you around to face him. It was hard for him to be so close to you and not want to have you right there. “I just want one more moment with you before I go. Come here.” his grip tightened, not letting you out of his reach at all. "Jae-" you started before he cut you off. Jaehyun silenced you as he put his fingers against your lips, he pulled your hips against his body again, his body pressing against yours. “One minute. One more minute with you. That’s all I want and need.” He murmured, his lips meeting yours. His kiss was passionate and hungry. His hands gripped your hips, and he held you closer.
"You should go to practice now." you murmured once the pair of you had parted, not looking at him as you grabbed your stuff. Jaehyun stared at you. His lips curled in a slight frown. He hated the way you’d dismiss him. He'd had never felt such jealousy over someone before. He felt you belonged to him. Jaehyun knew he’d never be the guy to just let you go so easy. “You’re really leaving?” he muttered in a low and deep voice. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jaehyun." you murmured, sparing him a glance before walking out of the studio, leaving him standing in there alone. He watched you leave, His body was screaming at him to go after you. Every fibre in his being was pushing him to find you. But Jaehyun's ego, his pride wouldn’t let him chase after you. He clenched his fist and stomped out of the door. His mind screaming to go after you. Jaehyun leaned against his car in anger as his phone buzzed with another text and call from his coach.
You were so confusing.
----
Over the next few weeks, you avoided him, not responding to any calls or texts he'd left you and making sure not to bump into him in college. You were currently getting ready for your performance in the showcase for dance, doing a duet with Chan. He was part of the other frat group, and the rivalry between skz and ncit was strong, but you got along with both perfectly, his charming nature making it easy to bond. Your nerves were slowly kicking it, pacing around backstage. Jaehyun had given up on texting and calling you. He was frustrated and didn’t know what he did wrong. He knew he didn’t have any reason to be jealous or possessive of you, but that was exactly how he was feeling. knowing you would be performing tonight, he decided to come and watch your performances. Jaehyun entered the back room, standing close to the wall in the corner where he could see you without anyone noticing. He kept his eyes glued to you when you entered. He felt a spark of jealousy seeing Chan talk to you.
"Is it that obvious I'm nervous?" you murmured gently, looking up at Chan who was already gazing at you. Chan smirked, leaning against the wall. He had one arm crossed over his chest and his legs were crossed. He was trying hard to be cool and casual, it was hard with you so close to him “Yeah. It is pretty evident.” Chan mumbled. He leaned in close to you, placing his hands on your sides and whispering. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You always do." He comforted, hands tightening. "What if I mess our dance up?" you frowned, unsure. Chan smirked. He leaned down close to you, his eyes looking into yours. He smirked and shook his head slowly. “Impossible. There’s no way you can mess up. Because if anyone screws up. It’ll be me, just so you know.” Chan leaned in to whisper against your ear. He smirked as his hands gripped your sides a little tighter. “But if you mess up. I’m making you come home with me tonight.” You wiggled slightly in his grip, laughing nervously, thinking he was joking.
Chan was definitely not joking. He had every intent on taking you home with him tonight. His plan was to charm you so much that you wouldn’t be able to say no. Chan had a cocky smirk on his face, his arms tightening around your waist. Before you could say anything, your names were announced, your cue to come on stage. You made your way on, your breath hitching as you saw Jaehyun in the audience, not expecting him to come.  Jaehyun's eyes were glued on you, the way the spotlight hit your skin just made you shine like a bright star. He hated that Chan was by your side. He could see the two of you dancing together, and it drove him crazy, attention was on you and not the performance. Jaehyun leaned back against the wall in the back to get a better view. Chan was taking a few steps with you, his hands gripping your waist tightly. Chan whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you guys danced. Jaehyun was fuming.
You focused on the dance, not paying attention to either of the boys throughout the performance, locking eyes with Jaehyun as you finished the routine. Jaehyun smiled as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were filled with pride as you finished the dance routine with Chan. He had seen your whole performance, his body was filled with jealousy and possessiveness during every movement Chan made with you. He clapped his hands as soon as you finished the performance, a jealous smirk on his lips as he saw Chan grab your wrist. you watched as you saw him disappear before you walked off stage, slightly tense with Chan's arm still around your waist, knowing that Jaehyun would be meeting you backstage. 
Jaehyun was waiting for you outside of the backstage room. His mood was different now. Instead of being frustrated and annoyed, he was possessive and jealous. You could see a dark aura around him. He grabbed your arm firmly, pulling you away from Chan’s grasp. “Come on, sunshine. I’m taking you home.” Jaehyun growled out as he pulled you deeper into the dark hallways. "Jae-" you started, eyes wide as he gently intertwined your hands. he shut you up by covering your mouth with his hand. One hand was still holding onto yours, the other one placed over your mouth. Jaehyun dragged you deeper into the back hallways, away from anyone else. “I don’t wanna hear a word of your bullshit right now sunshine.” he murmured. He dragged you into one of the empty rooms. "Jaehyun-" you murmured, trying to get him to listen. Jaehyun slammed the door shut, locking it. Jaehyun turned you around, so your back was against the door. He pressed himself against you. With his hands gripping your arms, he pinned you against the door. “Shut up for a minute and listen to me.” Jaehyun growled. His stare was intense and his grip on your body was tight.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at, staying away from me. Ignoring my texts, and my calls and dodging me every chance you get.” Jaehyun muttered, his tone was angry and harsh. He looked as if he wasn’t himself. “I don’t know what to make of your little game. But I’m not going to sit back and let you just play with my feelings and mess me around. Got it?” His frustration was palpable, tension filling the room and his anger turning you on. "Just let me explain-" you started before he shook his head, finger on your lip again. “No. Don’t say a word. You've been ignoring my calls. you've been avoiding me. And the first time I see you in TWO weeks, you’re hanging onto a damn skz frat boy.” he bit back. Jaehyun gripped your waist tightly. He was a lot angrier than you had ever seen him. He felt his temper start to overtake him when he saw Chan take your arm and lead you away. He was so jealous that he felt as if he would blow a fuse right there. “I don’t want your damn explanations. I want you. I’m done with all the games. Whatever you’re playing at, stop it right now. Stop dodging me and coming up with excuses. And that little skz brat has no business having his hands all over you.”
"And you do?" you retorted, giving him a bratty attitude to rile him up. Jaehyun glared at you. Your bratty attitude had gotten to him. The anger from earlier was rising back up within him all over again. Jaehyun was losing his cool. His fists were clenched so tightly, his nails digging into his palms. “Yes. Yes, I do. I have every damn right to have my hands on you. I want you…all to myself. But you make it damn near impossible when you keep running from me.” he groaned. "I'm not running, I-" you grumbled, pausing as you struggled to come up with a reason. “Oh really? You’re not running away? Then how come every time I call you, you’re not answering, every time I text you, you text me back two hours later and you dodge me whenever I attempt to come see you?” Jaehyun muttered. His fingers dug into your hips and held you flush against the door. His body was pressed up against you so closely, his breath hitting you right against the neck and ear. He leaned his head in to whisper, his lips pressing in so close to your skin. “Quit the bullshit right now.” he ordered, looking at you. you let out a sigh, avoiding his eyes, not bothering to argue. 
Jaehyun stared at you. It infuriated him that you wouldn’t even be making eye contact with him. The anger was building up inside of him. Jaehyun gripped you tightly, one hand twisting into your hair. His breath was quick and heavy. he lowered his head close to your lip. “Look at me.” Jaehyun murmured. His voice was low and almost dangerous. He waited with bated breath for you to follow his order.” ...I'm sorry." you murmured, looking back up at him. Jaehyun released a soft sigh when you looked up into his eyes. His eyes blazed with anger and desire. He was so possessive of you at that very moment. Jaehyuns mood shifted at once he saw your eyes look up at him. His hands dropped to your hips again, his fingers digging in tightly. “I don’t want to hear your sorry. That’s not good enough. I’ve been dying to be in your life more. To be with you more. You are so damn beautiful and yet you keep running from me. Why?” he mumbled. "I…I got scared." you whispered, breath hitching. “Scared? Of what?” Jaehyun mumbled. The anger left him as soon as you said you got scared. Jaehyun's eyes instantly softened as he noticed how scared you were. His voice went softer, his hands dropping to your waist again. “Scared of what, baby?”
Your heart jumped at the nickname, liking how it sounded from him.” ...You know Jiung, right?" you asked hesitantly. Jaehyun nodded. He knew him pretty well. He knew the type of boy he was. His eyes dimmed at the mention of him. Jaehyun's jealousy got the best of him just thinking about him and what he'd possibly done to you. “Yeah…I know him. I know what kind of guy he is too. What did he do?” he asked, his face softening and voice full of concern and genuine. "I uh…me and him dated, last year. we...we were like this at the start, all over each other. Until I found out to him, we were never really serious, and he'd just led me on, seeing other people all the time. He laughed when I'd confronted him and told me I was stupid for ever believing a frat boy could change." you opened up, nervous about his reaction.  Jaehyun's eyes darkened as your words sank in. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip starting to tighten once more. He couldn’t imagine a guy doing something so horrible as to break someone's heart. No wonder you kept him at arm’s length. Jaehyun could hear your heart pounding a mile a minute, not even notice how tight his grip on you was getting. “And you thought I’d do the same? You thought I’d play you the same way he did?” he asked, his voice low. 
“...I guess. I was scared you would, so I thought pushing you away would be better and it wasn't because, fuck, I miss you, more than I thought possible." you explained, voice cracking. Jaehyun paused. He couldn’t believe what you were saying. You kept pushing him away because you were scared that he would break your heart. He finally loosened his grip on your hips and turned you around to face him. He brushed his fingers across your cheek. “I would never, ever do that to you. It’s not in me to break your heart. I’d tear the world to shreds rather than see you hurt or sad.” Jaehyun murmured. His fingers trailed down your cheek to your nose, his touch gentle. "I know you would. And I'm sorry for avoiding you." you murmured, forehead against his. Jaehyun gently gripped your hips again. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you against his chest. Jaehyun's eyes were fixated on your lips. Everything about you right now was making him crazy. “I haven’t been able to sleep just knowing there is a chance that someone out there might hurt you. Someone like that, that frat boy…he had no idea how lucky he was to have gotten a chance with you. If only I knew I would have beaten his ass to hell and back…”
you laughed gently, shaking your head. "You two were good friends, I doubt you would've-" you started before he interrupted, kissing your forehead. He chuckled. Even with his frustration over thinking about how a guy could do that to you, your laugh and dimple were still so cute to him. Jaehyun leaned down and placed his lips against your forehead, kissing it gently. He pulled back. “I’m guessing you broke up during the summer?” he murmured, brushing the hair from your face. "Yeah, just before we started the second year. just before you started annoying me." you joked, poking his chest. He smirked to himself. He took in your adorable giggle and playful side. Everything about you was so irresistible, so beautiful. Jaehyun's eyes were glued to your lips once more, his hands slowly sliding to your hips. He pulled you back against him, your bodies pressed together, His breath hit you once more as he leaned in close to your ear. “I plan on making up for all that wasted time. I’ ’m going to be the best damn boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
"Who said you were going to be my boyfriend?" you teased, eyebrows raised in amusement. Jaehyun laughed at your comment. He smirked as a low chuckle escaped his mouth. Your brattiness was something that he absolutely loved about you. He grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him once more. His body felt so close to yours, almost like he never wanted to leave you. “Who said I wasn’t already?” He murmured. Jaehyun was so serious right now, he wanted and needed you to be his. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, especially Chan. you giggled, leaning forward and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Jaehyun groaned as your lips pressed against his. Every time you made a noise, it was like a jolt of electricity going through him. Your kisses were everything he wanted. And just how much you had missed him, made him want you even more. Jaehyun was kissing you eagerly, one of his hands sliding back up to your chin. He gently tilted your head back, his eyes glazed with desire. He couldn’t get enough of you, he never could. "Kiss me harder." you murmured in between kisses, arms around his neck. Just the sound of your whisper was enough to get his blood boiling. Jaehyun couldn't believe the amount of heat you were capable of generating in him. When you whispered those words, Jaehyun felt every nerve tingling inside of him. He wanted to kiss you harder, to kiss you deeper and keep you in his arms. Every inch of his body was screaming at him to do so. So, he did just that. Jaehyun grabbed your hips firmly, lifting you up in his arms. He pressed his lips on yours once more, the force of his kisses intensifying.
This was going to be a long night. 
----
cheers filled the sports hall. you stood up, cheering loudly, his jersey on as you watched him celebrate the win with his teammates briefly before he locked eyes with you. Jaehyun looked up from the huddle and saw you standing there. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you in the crowd with his jersey on. The cheers and voices around him faded as he locked eyes with you. Your cheering put a huge smile on his face. Jaehyun quickly broke away from the team and ran over to you. “Babe! What did I say earlier? You’re my good luck charm!” Jaehyun exclaimed once he got to you. He swung you up in his arms, lifting you as high as he could. You squealed, tightening your grip on him and laughing gently. "Well done, love." you murmured, caressing his cheek. Jaehyun grinned, the crowd cheering. The noise around them faded as he locked eyes only on you. “Thanks. But it’s all because of you. You came here and it brought me good luck.” He brought you down to his height and kissed your head gently. “Let’s get out of here. I wanna spend the night alone with you.” Jaehyun muttered passionately. He was ready to leave the game and spend an entire night with you. As he brought you close to his chest, his hand gently gripped your hip. "Got a reward for you at your place." you smirked, winking cheekily at him as your lips brushed against his neck. 
Jaehyun sighed at how playful and sassy you were with him. It got to him. The way you brushed your lips right against his neck made him want to pull you into the nearest room and shut the door. But not yet. He smiled when you mentioned the reward you had for him. But you could always have something new with Jaehyun, you were his reward. “Oh. I can’t wait to find out exactly what that reward is.” Jaehyun muttered sarcastically. But all of that sarcasm suddenly disappeared when your fingers grazed his waist. "I'm leading tonight though, baby." you murmured, your voice low as you kissed his neck. he moaned at the feeling of your lips pressing against his neck. When your fingers were lightly gripping his waist, that alone drove him crazy. Jaehyun could feel your hand on his side. His hips buckling, every cell in his body wanted to pull you to the nearest room. Your smirk only drove him crazy. The cocky grin on your face was hot as hell. Jaehyun groaned softly, leaning his head in close to hear better. “You think you’re leading tonight?” he whispered playfully, his voice hoarse. "Uh huh. gonna reward my baby..." you murmured, gently biting his earlobe and hands travelling down his chest.
"Give me one taste of your nectar."
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lovelytsunoda · 9 hours
Text
the way you kiss me works each time // lance stroll
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summary: sexual innuendos and a scrabble board make for a flirty and cosy afternoon
pairing: lance stroll x wife! reader
warnings: 18+, no smut but it’s very suggestive and very flirty (while being cosy at the same time!!)
notes: can be read as a part of the ‘welcome to wherever you are’ verse or as a stand-alone, returning to an idea I had in part two (spill the wine). there's something about this whole concept that just makes me weak in the knees.
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the sun was low in the sky as it threatened to dip behind the clouds. the breeze was gentle, coming over the balcony of the villa where the newlyweds were staying, overlooking the ocean as they basked in each other's company.
a scrabble board was spread out on the table in front of them, the low hum of the tv from the sitting room playing an italian travel programme. they had spent the day on a walking tour of capri, before spending the afternoon in an authentic italian pasta making class, and were now relaxing their tired bodies with cold drinks and a game of scrabble.
"and i play 'clever' for eleven points." she hummed, laying the tiles down and connecting them to lance's previous word.
"nice one." lance grinned, taking a sip of his mocktail. "but i think my word is better."
the grin on his face was palpable, a giddy sort of excitement radiating off her husband as he shook the wooden tiles in his hand, rearranging the letters on the board, until, lo and behold, lance stroll had played the word 'penis' for seven points.
she giggled, hiding her face behind her hand. the smooth australian lilt to her voice was like a symphony to lance's ears. "you are such a dork."
the board was full of such words. lance had gotten the brilliant idea that cleverly played scrabble tiles could be considered a way to flirt, filling the board with words like 'penis' and 'boobies' as if he was a teenaged boy again.
all in all, y/n actually found it very endearing. it was the kind of thing that had her heart swelling with love, her limbs going all funny. the kind of thing that reminded her just how much she loved her husband, and just how loved she was by the people around her.
"it's your play, my love."
resting her chin on her closed fists, elbows against the patio table, she looked down at the wooden tiles in her possession, brain scrambling to make words with what was pre-existing on the board. next to the table, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a picture from her wedding day, just two weeks ago.
"hang on, it's kirk. i should probably answer. you know how he worries."
having lost her dad when she was very young, it was her connection with kirk, one of her father's closest friends, that got her through some of the lowest points in her life. and naturally, like any good father figure, kirk worried about her more than he needed to.
while she typed back a response, she could hear lance rooting around in the velvet bag that held the remaining letters, before getting fed up and dumping them out in the lid for the box.
"babe, you can't handpick the letters you're switching." she laughed, looking up from her phone, the reflections of her text screen refracted in the lenses of her glasses.
lance put his finger to his lips, jokingly making a shushing sound. "go back to texting, i need a minute. just wait."
rolling her eyes, she sent kirk another message before turning her phone off and leaving it facedown on the patio table. "come on, lance. i'm winning and i've got a really good word to play."
"but i think i've got a string of better ones." lance smiled triumphantly, pleased with himself as he placed the cardboard box lid on top of the board.
inside, a dozen wooden tiles were arranged to spell out (with many abbreviations and mistakes) wil u have sex w me
"oh my god." she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as her body shook with good-natured laughter. "oh my god!"
"i wanted to spell it out on the board during the game, but alas, i am not that smart, or good at scrabble." lance mused, reaching across the table to clasp her free hand in his. "so...will you say yes?"
"of course i'm saying yes." she laughed, uncovering her mouth. "this is the cutest way you have ever tried to get me into bed with you."
lance wasted no time at all in crossing the table and scooping his wife into his arms, twirling her around as they both laughed, before crossing the balcony to venture back into the suite.
"wait! we can't leave our shit outside, what if it rains?" y/n whined, trying to put her feet back on the ground. "let me go back outside, i'll meet you in the bedroom."
"alright, alright." lance rolled his eyes, placing her back on the ground. "but don't take too long, if i get too comfortable i might fall into a pasta-induced coma!"
still laughing to herself, she crossed over to the balcony and haphazardly packed up the scrabble board and her cell phone, taking a large swig of her drink before clearing the table and moving everything inside, closing the double doors behind her.
true to his word, lance was waiting for her in the bedroom, shirtless underneath the cotton sheets, with a rose between his lips, body seductively draped over the bed.
"i love you." y/n laughed, reaching for the rose. "but i'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to put real life flowers in your mouth."
"there's tape over the bit i was biting." lance shrugged, allowing her to take the flower and place it on the bed side table. "i know how you get about these things."
"shut up." she laughed, playfully jabbing him in the shoulder. "i'm serious. i'm glad you're in my life. you make me really happy."
she didn't wait for a response, although she knew lance would return the sentiment tenfold while they were lying together in the half-light, and again when he brought her breakfast in bed in the morning. she pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly, yet deeply before she reached up to take her glasses off.
"ah," lance said, grasping her wrist. "glasses stay on. don't you know the sexy librarian look is back in style? they look beautiful on you."
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @userlando @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @cartierre @lorarri
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leilanihours · 22 hours
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could u write something based of dress by Taylor Swift for Caitlin?
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# DRESS
pairing: caitlin clark x wnba draftee/former teammate!reader
word count: 3790
warnings: smut with long plot beforehand (MDNI), drinking
summary: after a long day of unbelievable success, you end the night with your girlfriend in the best way possible.
from lani: first smut kinda nervous! also the word count..mightve cooked w this one idk lmk! oh also the dress in the third pic is what i was picturing but u do u ofc!
“MAKING THEIR WAY down the orange carpet now, caitlin clark and her former teammate, y/n l/n! these two have been best friends since the very beginning of their college careers, practically glued to each other’s side at all times.”
as you trail behind your girlfriend past cameras and reporters, you try to think of a more thrilling moment than this, failing miserably. with caitlin expected to be the number one pick of the draft and yourself to be the number two pick, all eyes were on you two. but with your relationship being private, you’re stuck playing the role of best friends. you stop in front of a few photographers with caitlin, posing for pictures - some solo and some together.
“y/n! caitlin! step a little closer to each other will you?” you hear one of the female photographers exclaim.
you glance at your girlfriend, silently asking her if she’s okay with the gesture. you know how big of a reputation she has, so any wrong move could send it up in flames. same goes for you, but you valued caitlin’s success more at the moment. before you can politely deny the photographer, caitlin’s large hand is placed on your waist and pulling you closer to her. you quickly place one of your hands on her upper back, the whole exchange appearing very friendly. but let’s just say you didn’t want her as a best friend, only something more.
it seems that you have pleased all the photographers from the rush of flashes, buttons clicking, and cheers, so the two of you break apart and make your way to the end of the carpet. there waited a sea of reporters and interviewers, eager to ask questions about both of your basketball careers and, no doubt, your close “friendship.”
as you walk gracefully to the first reporter, you are halted by a familiar touch on your arm. turning around, you see caitlin gazing at you carefully. she walks up to you and urges you to come closer. you’re the same height as her, but you still go insane whenever she leans down to whisper in your ear, like she is now.
“you doin’ okay, babe?”
“of course,” you reply, taking a step back to look her in the eyes, “you okay?”
nothing could’ve prepared you for what she was about to way next.
“i will be once i get this dress off of you tonight,” she smirks, a hint of desire and hunger in her voice. once again, her eyes scan your figure. talk about deja vu, right?
———
“caitlin! can you help me zip up my dress, please?” you yell to the bedroom portion of your shared hotel room. you were currently fixing yourself up to head to the draft, but having difficulty reaching the upper part of your torso to close your dress. 
your dress. one that you specifically picked out because you knew caitlin would love it. it was a big day for her, for both of you, but you really wanted to make it special for her. it was a long silk maxi dress in a champagne color. there was a small cutout right below the crease of your chest, the area accentuated by a small black trim. the straps matching the trim were thin, as if they could be easily slipped down at any moment. the fit of the dress was flowy at the bottom but tight from the waist up to highlight all your best curves. your purposely chose not to wear a jacket or cardigan with plans of having caitlin’s blazer draped over your arms later that night.
“coming!” you hear back. you’re putting in your gold earrings as she makes her way into the large hotel bathroom. your gaze is focused on the mirror in front of you, not wanting to poke your ear as you insert the statement jewelry. caitlin freezes, immediately sizing you up in your full glory. she takes mental note of the dip in your back, the sculpt of your toned arms, the way your hips were practically begging for her touch. if you saw the way she was looking at you, you would’ve let her take you right there.
you straighten your posture as you feel caitlin step behind you carefully, hands resting lightly on your waist, as if she’s fighting to hold back. she delicately moves your hair to one side of your neck, placing small kisses across your shoulder and back.
“hi,” she whispers in your ear.
“hi back,” you smile.
“this all for me?”
“mhm,” your eyes flutter shut as your feel her lips ghost over a specific spot on your neck, “only you, cait.”
“you look amazing, baby,” she says, eyes darkening, “this dress, i mean it’s incredible, but it would look better on the floor, don’t you think?”
she sounds out of breath, like she’s desperate to show you what she means. you feel your entire body heat up as you keep your eyes locked on hers in the mirror. slowly, her long fingers trace down your spine to the zipper, leaving goosebumps on your skin from her cold touch. you shiver from both her icy strokes and the thought of what she would do to you later.
after placing one last kiss at the nape of your neck, she spins you around so that you’re facing her. her brown eyes hover over every aspect of your face, every detail of your appearance. she finds herself memorizing all of it since she knows she won’t be able to observe you this close until the late hours of the night, away from the burning eyes of the public.
———
you blush feverishly at the memory, already missing her touch like crazy. before you can respond, caitlin is called over to a nearby interviewer. she looks down at you one last time before leaving your side. for a second you’re left standing awkwardly until a reporter beckons you to them. you fix your hair and make your way over, preparing yourself to dodge any particularly personal questions. the reporter in question was a young lady who looked only a few years older than you. she beams a bright smile in your direction as she reaches her hand out to shake yours. you smile politely and wait for her to speak.
“we are here tonight with the incredible y/n l/n, one of the most dedicated of women’s college basketball, and soon to be women’s national basketball,” she exclaims to the camera as she moves to your side, “there’s a lot of buzz circulating your presence here, how are you feeling tonight, y/n?
“i’m feeling pretty great, thanks for asking,” you grin sincerely, “i’m super pumped to be a part of the draft and i’ve been waiting for this my whole life so i don’t think anything could top this moment.”
“amazing to hear, i’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far. speaking of waiting your whole life to be drafted, what was the moment that made you decide you wanted to be a part of the wnba?”
“honestly, i’ve been in love with the league for as long as i can remember, so i guess since i was a little girl. i still remember the first time my dad took me to a sparks game like it was yesterday, so hopefully i can fulfill my dream of becoming one of them by the end of the night.” 
“how touching! it seems like your family has been a big part of your journey, how else have they shaped your identity?”
“i mean, they’ve been my rock literally since day 1 so they’ve changed my life in more ways than i can count. off the top of my head, my dad was the one who got me interested in basketball, took me to my early morning practices and late afternoon games as i grew up. my mom, who was never a big sports fan, was always my loudest cheerleader at every single game. my older sister was my rebound when i was putting in the work in our backyard at home. even my dog, lacy, wears my jersey at home games so i’ve really felt the love and support my whole life.”
“and we all will continue to show that love and support as you grow in the wnba. have a great night, y/n, thank you for chatting with us,” the woman finishes. 
you smile proudly. your fanbase has always had your back and you’re beyond grateful that they are following you to new heights. as you walk away from the interviewer and down the carpet ready for more, you are stopped by someone calling your name. spinning around, you are ushered over to where caitlin is currently getting interviewed.
“hey guys!” you cheer as you stand next to caitlin. the middle-aged man before you is practically shaking with excitement, knowing that he is actually talking to two of the biggest stars of women’s college ball.
“what an honor it is to get to talk to both of you,” he beams, “are you two aware that you are single-handedly carrying women’s sports right now?”
“hey, i mean it’s super cool to be able to inspire so many young women and help gain respect for women’s athletics so it’s all thumbs up from me,” you reply.
“i agree, there’s no better feeling than being able to change lives and leave such a significant legacy. and i think i can speak for the both of us when i say there’s really no way to top how we feel right now,” caitlin adds.
“i mean, i can think of a couple ways,” the man begins, “and it involves being the first and second picks tonight. y/n, i’ve talked about it with caitlin but i’m curious, are you ready to be selected by the sparks as the number 2 overall pick?”
“i’m flattered, thank you, but there’s really no telling what the lineup will be,” i say truthfully, “would it be an honor and dream fulfilled if i get picked by them? no doubting it. but i just don’t wanna get my hopes up, you know what i mean?”
“she’s just being polite, of course she’s gonna get picked,” caitlin grins playfully.
“yeah, y/n, give yourself more credit! you have had an amazing season this year, the sparks would suffer a huge loss if they didn’t select you.”
“thank you so much, really, it means a lot to hear that.”
———
“with the second pick in the 2024 wnba draft, the los angeles sparks select y/n l/n, university of iowa.”
as soon as those words leave the commissioner’s mouth, you can’t imagine life is real. you let out a heavy sigh, shoulders immediately relaxing as you hear your name called. this is all you’ve ever wanted. and now you have it. happy tears begin to prick your eyes as you stand up from your seat to hug your family. it’s a euphoric feeling really, and you couldn’t be more happy.
“you can see the emotion on y/n’s face as she celebrates with her family,” you hear the announcer declare, “the number 2 overall pick, who will get to return to her home city in california after a decorated career at iowa with multiple outstanding records broken.”
walking up to the podium to receive your jersey, you feel a couple tears of joy fall on your cheeks. anyone who knows you can see that you are wearing the biggest smile, the emotion behind it outshining every other. 
stepping up onto the stage, you pose next to the commissioner, the both of you holding the los angeles sparks jersey with pride. thanking the kind lady, you swiftly make your way through the tables and hug your former coaching staff thanking them quickly for everything they’ve done for you. 
“and if you want rebounding and rim protection, you can’t get much better than y/n l/n,” another announcer says, “she has been a trailblazer these past few seasons, completely flipping the reputation of women’s sports on its head with almost 900 total rebounds in her collegiate career, 5 blocks per game, averaged about 13 boards a game, as well. 
“she is going to be great in the wnba right away. this young woman has an unbelievable skill set as well as physical attributes. 6’0, long, strong, and elite when it comes to shot blocking and rebounding. y/n l/n is the exact player that the la sparks can use.”
———
the after-party is as energetic as can be. bottles of champagne are popping, friends are screaming, music is blasting. the environment is completely unmatched as you soak in the celebration and accomplishments. the party in question is being held on the rooftop of a new york city hotel, the view outside the full-length windows breath-taking.
you are currently pushed into a circle of your fellow draftees: angel reese, cameron brink, kamilla cardoso, nika muhl, and of course, your girlfriend, caitlin clark. you somehow got roped into doing a full round of shots, a tiny glass of straight liquor sitting on the table before you. you and the girls clink your glasses together with cheers of gratification and congratulations, the entire affair filling your being with serotonin.
downing the shot with ease, you turn to caitlin as her hand finds its home at the small of your back. eye contact held, your mind drifts back to her promise from earlier that day.
“can we go outside for a bit?” you hear her mumble in your ear, “needa take a breather.”
she’s a little bit more than tipsy - her words are slurred, shortened. and she’s wearing a sloppy side smile. but you aren’t complaining. drunk caitlin was truly a sight, and more touchy than normal. you’re definitely far gone as well, possibly more than her. your body internally shakes with anticipation at the thought of what could happen as the night progresses.
as you dismiss yourselves from the group, you make your way to the exterior of the building and find yourselves overlooking the beautiful cityscape below. you can still hear and feel the bass booming from the speakers inside. the hum of the vibrations contributing to the literal and physical buzz surging through your body. the cold eastern air makes you shake. your girlfriend notices almost immediately, shrugging off her blazer to wrap around your shoulders. she kisses you on the cheek and moves closer to you.
“why didn’t you bring a jacket, y/n?” she asks.
“must’ve slipped my mind,” yeah right.
“i’m so proud of you,” caitlin says after a beat of silence, “you know that?”
“i do,” you reply, “i’m so proud of you, too. you have no idea.”
“seriously though…can you believe we did it?”
“not really. i’m still waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me up from this dream.”
“i know, right?” she says with a laugh, “did you hear they’re retiring our numbers?”
“really? both of ours?” you were only expecting caitlin’s to be retired, not your own. after the career she’s had, no one questioned it.
“yes, both of ours,” she responds in a duh tone, “you gotta give yourself more credit, i’m telling you. you could do literally anything and everything, and i need you to know that.”
her words make you emotional beyond words with tears threatening to fall for what seemed like the 50th time tonight. you decide to change the subject, afraid that if you continue the conversation you’ll start sobbing (again).
“yeah?” you smirk, mood shifting, “you talk a big game about how much you love me. how ‘bout you put your money where your mouth is and show me?”
you turn your head to face her only to see her already looking at you, eyes dark despite being illuminated by the city lights.
“don’t start something you can’t finish,” she challenges.
“i thought i could do anything?” you tease, quoting her own words.
wordlessly, she grabs your hand and pulls you back inside, only to lead you to the elevators of the hotel. there we go.
———
your hands shake with anticipation as you swipe your key card to get into your room. you’ve just barely stepped into the room before caitlin is kicking the door closed and shoving you roughly against it, her eager set of lips pressed against yours. her large hands grip your waist animalistically, slightly riding up your dress. you let out a moan at the contact you’ve been desperately pining for the entire day. the sound provokes caitlin as she bites down on your lower lip.
she breaks the kiss and takes her hands off of you to remove the jacket she gave you earlier. you can barely get a full breath in before she’s marking your neck, collarbone, and chest. you seize the opportunity to take off her silver top, only to learn that she wasn’t wearing a bra. your hands fly up to her chest, admiring her soft skin.
now it’s her turn to moan as your cold fingers brush against her nipples. pushing your hands away, she urges you away from the door and toward the bed. before pushing you on the mattress, she unzips your dress to disregard the fabric. underneath, she’s greeted with a white lacy lingerie set.
“y/n..” she breathes out, scanning your body.
the way she says your name makes time stop, and amongst the chaos from the day’s events, you are stilled. time resumes when she shoves you on the silky blanket of the king-sized bed, her lips immediately finding yours once again.
“you’re overdressed,” you mumble between kisses. she automatically backs away from you to take off her skirt, throwing it somewhere behind her.
she pulls on your bra strap, silently asking to take it off. sitting up, you reach behind your back to unclasp it while she decides to take off your underwear. she tugs you to the edge of the bed and sinks down before you, leaving a hot trail of kisses down your entire body.
“gonna make you feel so good, baby,” she mumbles against your skin, “show you how proud i am.”
she makes good on her promise, immediately getting to work on your clit. her tongue flicks against the bud, forcing a loud moan out of your mouth. the action alone was enough to make you come, but she just had to insert a finger into your soaking entrance.
you’ve seen her on the court and with a basketball, obviously, so you know how skilled she is with her hands. you let out a whimper at the thought of you being the only one to experience it on a whole new level.
“fuck, cait,” you pant, chest heaving.
as she adds another finger, she looks up at you from between your legs, and caitlin being the cocky motherfucker she is, smirks, the sight making you throw your head back in pleasure.
“that good, babe?”
“so good- shit.” one of your hands drifts up to your chest, squeezing it to add to the pleasure.
caitlin continues pumping her fingers in and out of you, curling her fingers every now and then. she places rough kisses on your inner thighs, leaving dark purple marks everywhere her lips touch. you feel your stomach tense up, signaling your climax. somehow she senses it, too.
“you gonna come, y/n? huh?” she says, “gonna come on my fingers?”
you nod, not being able to form words at the moment. she chuckles darkly at your state, both of your positions a stark contrast from a few hours prior. after a few more seconds, you feel the knot in your stomach burst as you release with a yell. this doesn’t stop caitlin, of course, her long fingers still hitting that special spot in your cunt.
as you begin to come down from your high, she removes her fingers to place them in her mouth and licks them, eyes closing in pleasure at your taste.
“did so good for me, baby,” she says as she stands back up to kiss you. she makes her way over to the head of the bed, as if she’s right to call it a night.
“what are you doing?” you ask her.
“going to sleep?”
“absolutely not,” you demand.
you push her against the pillows, relishing in the way her long brown hair is spread out as she lays with nothing but her underwear on. you straddle her defined waist and bend down to kiss her. 
while she’s distracted, you sneak your hands down to remove her underwear and push your thumb against her clit. she’s surprised by the action, biting your lip and moaning into your mouth.
you sit back up and scoot backwards so that your pussy is just above hers. you both adjust your positions so that your pussies align, instantly moaning out loud at the new feeling.
“shittt,” caitlin groans.
the sighs that leave her lips are music to your ears, but the mix of curses and borderline pornographic moans she lets out is your favorite song. you can’t explain this feeling with words as you rock your hips sensually, the wetness from either of you making the process easy.
“you feel so good against me, cait,” you moan, “so fucking good, holy shit.”
“yeah? you like grinding your pussy against me?” she teases as her hands come up to grab your tits, “fuck- looking like a perfect slut riding me.”
as your clits brush against each other, you moan out simultaneously. you begin to pick up your pace, desperate for a release. your hips buck against her rapidly, chasing that high you search for whenever you’re like this with her.
“fuck, baby, just like that,” caitlin sighs, “fucking me so damn good.” her back arches and her hips buck up, equally ready to come.
soon enough the pleasure gets too intense, making you release on caitlin’s pussy and thighs, her own climax not far behind. you continue to move against her, slower, as you begin to calm down. as your breathing steadies, you climb into bed next to your girlfriend and rest your head against her chest. she places a loving kiss on your head, silently thanking you for everything. you snuggle even closer to her, inhaling her sweet scent.
“i love you so much, y/n,” she whispers into your hair.
“i love you, too, caitlin,” you say as you are slowly coaxed to sleep.
she’s thinking back to when she said that nothing would ever top being the number one draft pick, but being here, with her arms wrapped tightly around you, knocks it out of first place easily.
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just a girl 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.
Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 
You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 
You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 
It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 
You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 
You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 
A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 
“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 
“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 
You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 
Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 
“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  
“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 
“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 
Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 
You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 
You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 
“Ready?” She asks. 
You nod and look down at yourself. 
“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 
“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 
“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 
She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 
As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 
“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 
“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 
“I know, I wasn’t--” 
“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 
“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 
“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 
You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 
Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 
“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 
Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 
She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 
You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 
“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 
“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 
“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 
“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 
“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 
You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 
“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 
“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 
“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 
“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 
He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 
“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 
“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 
You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 
“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 
You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 
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pixiiipie · 2 days
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there’s something so beautiful about sub alhaitham it’s usually so rare (kaveh is usually sub) but i love when i find it <3
sub alhaitham headcannons/thoughts
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he’s so prideful and enjoys teasing to fuel this pride but when he’s backed into a corner? so cute
he’s not too sure what to do at first (a little brat taming) but he doesn’t let himself be so easily owned especially by someone smaller than him and of a lower position. but if you manage to break this stupid ego of his, he’s all yours.
he’s calculated and never gives anything away making others view him as “cold” but truly, alhaitham is so good for you. he won’t easily reveal how needy he is for you but deep down, anything you do or say to him (even if it’s just a simple “hello”) will stick in his head and make it foggy.
the best thing to do to him? fuck him dumb and ask him semi-difficult questions that he should definitely know and as the time goes on, lower the difficulty. humiliate him in any way you can! that’s the only way to break an ego. when you fuck him, tell him that if he takes his eyes off of you, you’ll stop. he’ll burn with embarrassment at the position you have him in and all the names you’re calling him (praise and degradation) but it’ll be even more embarrassing as he continues to make eye contact-needing you to keep pumping him full. seems all that talk of not being desperate was just talk.
(similar to this but fuck him and make him look at himself in the mirror. tell him that this is the image of sumeru’s scribe. what a slut they placed all that responsibility in. alhaitham will try to deny it but it’s true. tease him and wonder what all the other scribes would think if they saw him like this. their respect for him would disappear and they’d probably treat him like a dog. maybe they’d all want a turn with him…)
maybe if he’s misbehaving, get him needy before saying that if he wants you to continue, he has to do some of the paperwork he’d left earlier. or! make him cockwarm you as he does it. only rule is that he can cum when it’s all done (tease him by saying that the standard isn’t very good when he’s finished to coax some pretty tears from him).
kinda similar to that but make him cockwarm you/strap a vibrator to him/in him as he reads a chapter of a book. but! he has to read out loud. any mistakes he makes, he has to start from the beginning of the chapter. of course he can’t cum unless he’s read it (semi) perfectly.
side note: his beautiful body? mhm please manhandle that. he’ll never tell you but he enjoys feeling like he belongs to you and you can do anything to him. even if it’s just casually, grab his waist, rest you hand on it, just any touch there makes him feel connected to you and somewhat safe. you’ll look after him. you’ll be by his side. not just his waist but his tits pecs too. why are they so huge? for you to hold and play with of course!! they’re embarrassing sensitive because of how much they’re rubbing against his clothes.
he’s quite sensitive everywhere because of how little he’s been touched (and touched himself) but nipples, waist and his ears (he’s so tall! no one has ever been so close to them and they’re usually always covered) are his golden spots. please make sure to touch or nibble on them :)
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