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#just everything is so much but in the best way
kingkaizen · 2 days
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𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples.
“I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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thestarkinternship · 2 days
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10 Minutes
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.
Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)
Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!
A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)
Masterlist
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“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”
With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”
“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”
“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”
Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.
“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”
In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.
“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”
He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”
“I bet.” You chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.
You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.
Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.
Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.
“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”
His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.
“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.
Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”
You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.
“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.
“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”
“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.
“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.
“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.
“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.
Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.
“Bucky, are you-“
“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”
He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.
Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”
Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.
“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.
“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.
It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.
With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.
Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.
“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.
Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”
He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.
Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.
Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.
“Bucky…” You begged softly.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”
Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.
“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”
Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.
He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.
“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.
Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.
“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”
Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.
Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.
Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.
Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”
“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.
“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.
“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.
“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.
“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”
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taeyongdoyoung · 2 days
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good for you
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summary: your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control 😇 pairing: mingyu x reader genre: smut, tooth-rotting fluff warnings: established relationship, home intruder roleplay, consensual somnophilia, safeword exists but isn't used, rough sex, no lube, no protection, neck biting, size kink (no one is surprised), titty slapping, sir kink, spanking, praise+degradation, slight dumbification, subspace, pet names, shy dom gyu, crying, mentions of pee (non-sexual context), aftercare!!! word count: 1.7k
You and Mingyu have not been together for long but from what you know so far he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated. He treats you like a princess, brings you flowers or chocolates with or without occasion, drives you around everywhere, gets stuff from the top shelf for you and is basically the kindest soul to ever step on this Earth. You are, of course, beyond grateful for that, and do your best to show him how much you appreciate him every chance you get.
However, a little demon inside your brain kind of wants him to not treat you as if you are made of glass all the time. While the sex is great and Mingyu makes sure that you reach an orgasm, you can’t help but fantasize about him going rough on you. Even when his friends tease (bully) him, he almost never uses his height and strength to his advantage, instead accepting everything with a good-natured smile.
But you would be lying if you said that the idea of him just snapping doesn’t excite you. Nevertheless, you are not sure how to bring this up to him. You don’t want to sound ungrateful or for him to feel insecure about his abilities because he’s perfect the way he is. It’s your filthy brain that needs fixing. Still, you decide that honesty is the key to a healthy relationship and you gather all your courage to approach him about this.
“Hey, Mingyu, can we talk about something?” you ask one evening after you two have finished having dinner.
His eyes are immediately filled with worry. Judging by the tone of your voice, this is something serious. So far, your relationship has been lighthearted and devoid of any problems. Mingyu thinks that it’s going great but apparently he’s been fooling himself.
“What’s wrong?” he wants to know. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?”
“What?! Of course not! Do you want to break up with me?” you panic.
“No, no, please,” Mingyu shakes his head fervently.
“Good, good,” you exhale in relief.
“So, what did you wanna talk about?”
“Um, it’s kinda embarrassing but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”
“Secrets?” Mingyu blinks in curiosity.
“Yeah…You know how you’re always super gentle with me, both outside and inside the bedroom?”
“Uh, sure? What about it?”
“Can you consider…not doing that all the time?”
“In what sense?” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“In the sense that…can you fuck me harder without holding yourself back? You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”
“Oh…” he finally realizes what you’re getting at. Because he doesn’t say anything rightaway, you hurry to explain.
“Not that I don’t like how sweet and patient you are with me! It’s more than amazing, I just thought that…maybe it’d be fun to try something new. If it’s not your thing, forget I mentioned it, I’m so-“
“It’s not that it doesn’t sound appealing. But I’m afraid that if I’m not holding myself back, I’ll end up hurting you,” Mingyu confesses, surprising you.
You reach your hand out across the table to hold his comfortingly.
“You won’t. I know how caring you are, Mingyu. Which is why I would trust you with something like this. Okay?”
“Okay,” he nods. “Did you have a particular scenario in mind or do you want me to surprise you?”
“Surprise me.”
Mingyu smirks sinisterly. Oh God. What kind of demon have you unleashed?
🎀🎀🎀
A few days later, you receive a text from Mingyu while you’re walking home.
Mingyu: Busy tonight?
You: All yours
Mingyu: Unlock your door at exactly 10pm and wait for me in your bed. If I’m not there by 10:30, lock it again, alright?
You: Yes, sir 🛐
Mingyu: That’s my good girl.
Fucking hell. Your heart flutters upon reading these words. He’s called you that before but in this context, it thrills you even more than usual.
Mingyu: Safeword is butterfly. Use it if something is too much, if you’re in pain or for any other reason that brings you discomfort, okay?
You: I’m gonna need a safeword?!?!
Mingyu: I hope it doesn’t come to that but just in case. See you in a couple of hours, baby.
You’re too excited for tonight. You take a long shower. You wear your prettiest lingerie and make your room as cozy as possible. Not that it matters. You spray perfume over your neck and wrists. You put on some lipbalm and mascara. You want to look good for him. But the truth is, you had an exhausting week and already feel sleepy. You unlock the door at 10pm, climb into your bed and…
Somehow you fall asleep. You feel disoriented as your consciousness is slowly returning to you. You feel too hot, too weak and too full. Fuck. What’s going on? You don’t dare to open your eyes for fear of ruining the sweeter than sleep reality.
“Dumb baby couldn’t wait for me and fell asleep all by herself?” Mingyu’s deep voice coos in your ear.
In your half-awake state you feel your boyfriend’s cock thrusting deep inside of you, taking you rougher than ever before. Well, you asked for it.
“So cute and helpless, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter and use you like a whore,” Mingyu murmurs.
He rubs your clit vigorously while still fucking into you, making you wetter than ever before.
“Nnghh,” you whimper drowsily.
“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep,” Mingyu whispers. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything.”
He squeezes your boobs, leaning down to bite your neck like a hungry wolf. And here, you thought your boyfriend was just a cute puppy.
“S-so big,” you cry out pitifully.
“You can take it, slut,” Mingyu says confidently.
You don’t offer a verbal response but your body speaks for itself. Mingyu is almost splitting you in two but your pussy is swallowing him up greedily.
“H-harder, p-please,” your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because it speaks against any common sense.
Mingyu slaps your tits, a little hesitant at first.
It stings but it’s such a sweet hurt you’re already addicted to it.
“Like this?” he asks, making sure it’s okay.
“M-more,” you beg, forgetting all inhibitions. “Use me.”
He does it a couple of more times, while still fucking you roughly. His dick is so enormous that you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow but it will be more than worth it. You lose count of how many times you’ve come around his cock. Sliding out and flipping you on your belly, he takes you from behind, too, spanking your ass and gripping your hair.
“Such a good girl, just for me, right? No one else gets to see you like this, yeah?” Mingyu’s words come out rushed, almost in trance.
“All yours, sir,” you promise.
Mingyu seems satisfied with your answer because he spills his seed inside of you seconds after. You follow his lead and eventually, your knees give out, your mind goes blank and you collapse on the bed.
“Baby?” Mingyu checks up on you worriedly.
You are not capable of responding, brain barely functioning anymore. He moves you gently to see your face. Your eyes are open but unblinking, which scares the shit out of him.
“Come back to me, my sweetheart, please,” Mingyu cries out, hugging you tightly.
A couple of moments later, you still don’t remember your own name but something more important to you leaves your lips:
“Mingyu?” you whisper cautiously.
“Oh, angel,” Mingyu sighs. “I’m right here.”
Then, you suddenly burst into tears. Overwhelmed by how good he made you feel and how much he cares about you, your fully emotions take over.
“What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Mingyu positions you so that you are sitting on his knee and rocks you gently back and forth.
“N-no,” you shake your head. “I’m s-so happy.”
“You poor thing,” Mingyu chuckles softly. “Can’t believe you worked so hard to doll yourself up and make the room smell nice. You knew I was gonna ruin your lingerie anyway, didn’t you?”
“I just wanted to look good for you,” you admit with a pout.
“You always do. My best girl,” Mingyu kisses you sweetly and wraps you in his warm embrace, lulling you back to sleep.
🎀🎀🎀
The next morning, you wake up to the feeling of wanting to pee so badly. You manage to climb out of bed but barely make one step and trip on the ground. Uh oh. You got fucked so good you literally can’t walk.
Awakened by the loud thud, Mingyu is by your side in no time.
“What happened?”
“You happened,” you reply truthfully, but you don’t blame him because you brought this upon yourself.
“Oh…” Mingyu understands what you mean. “Did you want to use the toilet?”
“Uh, yeah. Gosh, this is so mortifying.”
You cover your face with your hands.
“I was literally deep inside of you a few hours ago, get over yourself,” Mingyu laughs and lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom.
“Are you gonna stare at me?!” you ask in embarrassment.
“Might as well,” he laughs but gives you some privacy, even though there is no need to be shy after all the things you’ve done together.
After that, he insists on doing everything for you. You tell him you are perfectly capable of brushing your own teeth but nope, Mingyu wants to do that, as well. And honestly? It feels too good to reject.
He even makes breakfast and brings it to bed so you can share it together. As you take the first bite and drink the first sip of coffee for the morning, the feelings come crashing once again. And you start crying even harder than last night.
“Oh, baby, what is it?” Mingyu wants to know, as he brushes your hair behind your ear and wipes your tears.
“N-nothing, you’re just so amazing and kind I feel extremely touched.”
“You do realize this is literally the bare minimum, right?” Mingyu seems shocked. He just made pancakes. It’s not some heroic act, in his humble opinion.
“It’s so rare to find a lovely guy like you, though,” you admit.
“Well, my good girl deserves only the best,” he smiles shyly and kisses your cheek.
You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning wider than ever before.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll want to be good for you forever.”
“I’m counting on it.”
The End
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dollfacefantasy · 1 day
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wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…
uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3
leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v
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It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.
You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.
He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.
Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.
In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.
"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.
"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.
"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"
The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.
"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.
Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.
"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.
He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.
On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.
Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.
He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.
"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."
He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.
His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.
"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.
"Only you," you agree without a second thought.
You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.
"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.
And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.
That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.
Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 days
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[Angst]
Fuckboy Yan sleeping with his shy lifelong best-friend's childhood crush - unaware that the two had already been on multiple casual dates so far-
"I hate you."
Three little words... They sound unfamiliar coming from your mouth of all places. As children, your best "friend" aired his hatred for you often - most cases being whenever you denied him your juice boxes at lunch. He never meant it though- Regardless of how much of a pushover you were back then, he could never truly hate you. Not now. Not then. He always thought the same could be said for you. He had always been trouble for you, yet you allowed him to cling to your side - despite his bold claims that it was the other way around. You both had your faults, but he knew you'd be together till the very end.
So why... Why are you looking at him like that now?
"You have everything. Why... Why couldn't you just let me have this one thing? Why couldn't you let me have them?"
His first mistake was writing your recent burst of happiness off as something else- You had been so happy these past few weeks - happier than you'd ever been in his company. He assumed it was because of that new promotion you received at work. Never would he have guessed it was because of them- His heart couldn't take it.
"I was hesitant to give them your number when they asked. I realize now they were just using me to get to you. Maybe I thought too highly of them, but you- I trusted you."
He didn't know. They nevet spoke a word of your budding relationship through their little fling til the very end. It's all their fault. He'll kill them.
"Just... Stay away from me from now on."
He'll kill them for doing this to him. To you both. He was never the best guy, but he was trying so hard to be good enough for you someday. Now that chance is gone. They wouldn't feel half the anguish he's going through now if he snapped their pretty little neck.
"Hey.... Yeah, I talked to them. They took it bette4 than I thought.... Why don't you come over one more time? Y/n's over it already so seeing each other one last time couldn't hurt, right?'
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 days
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slasher!könig agreeing to meet and be interviewed by reader who produces and directs true crime documentaries :3
Konig loves his girls a bit crazy. You certainly fit the description. Now, crazy and obsessive - and brave, on top of everything. You're perfect in the way your eyes are shining brightly as you ask him about his latest victim. Both of you know he is never going to let you go after this after he gave you a tour of his house and let you meet one of his most compliant pets, but neither you nor he cares. You're a woman with determination, with the benevolent shine of a bright mind evident in the way you direct that podcast you're gushing so much about, and Konig is a tiny bit scared of you now. Scared and turned on - as much as he hates to admit it, but your butt does look good in those jeans. You interview his soon-to-be-dead victim, letting them give you wonderful insights on just how masterful Konig's knife work was. The killer himself promises to let you know it on your own after you're done with the podcast, but he can't even bring himself to make it an actual threat. If anything, you look and sound like you're going to fucking love this. If anything, it mostly look like you're ready to pick up a veil and be his perfect undead bride. Konig can't bring himself to murder you. You look like you're going to do this, like you will agree to be dead just for the sake of a great video - and he doesn't want that. Values you way too much for this to occur. Konig chokes you a little bit, just to make sure you're nice and unconscious - and then presses you down to his bed. Hands in handcuffs, chains all over your body. Cold biting your skin - he took your clothes off and burned it, so no one would get your trace. He was considering breaking down the recorder as well, but his wife would need something to do while he is too busy giving her new materials. You need your own toys. Konig has contacts - red rooms, dark web, the guys who used to pay him for the videos of war brutality he indulged in. He gives you an opportunity to be a star by providing the best fucking podcasts with sprinkled screams of his victims - and some sick fucks on the internet will buy it. Especially when connected to your moans as Konug mounts you, still hot and ready after killing the most recent guy. A power couple. You don't have a reason to go home now.
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lnlightning81 · 1 day
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Positive P2 [LN4]
Summary : Surprising Lando after a race with the results to your pregnancy test
Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader
Word Count:
Warning/s: Pregnancy, Talk of not being able to have kids
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Watching Lando with kids has always been a beautiful sight. However, watching Lando with Mila and Athena was a totally different experience. There was a different connection watching the two of them. Normally, kids cried when they saw Lando because their hero was right in front of them, but with Mila and Athena, he was just ‘Lala’ and not Lando Norris. 
The video of Lando playing with Mila when she was just a little baby throwing his phone about the place had started to circulate your social media; it only made your baby fever start to grow.
You were due to meet Lando at the paddock as he had gone a little early for the media and you just wanted to lie in but it wasn’t until you felt ill that you messaged Lando asking if he had time to quickly come back to the hotel after stopping at the shop for something. To which he replied obviously still in that state of life where you could ask him to murder someone, and he would. 
There was very little chance you could actually be pregnant with not only you and Lando being extremely careful but with you being told that there was little chance of you ever getting pregnant throughout your life but with your baby fever and how you were feeling everything pointed towards that actually maybe coming true. 
Lando had wanted to wait and see the results but you knew that he couldn’t or he’d get fined so you forced him out of the hotel room telling him that he’d be the first person to know. Except he wouldn’t be. If the test came back positive, you had the perfect way to tell him. 
But when you saw that positive result that’s when you panicked, you never thought you’d actually see the day when that test actually came back positive after many years of being told it would never happen. 
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Now, standing in the Mclaren motorhome, you still hadn't told Lando the results. You didn’t want to stress him out before a race. Never mind a race when he was starting on the front row with the chance of winning but you did tell Zak knowing the perfect way to tell him after a good or bad race and hopefully he’d be happy with the news. 
Lando finished P2 just as he started. No one was getting past Max Verstappen any time soon, so it was basically a win for him, and you knew he’d say that when asked about it. Zak waved you over, and you walked over to the pit wall standing behind him as he placed his headphones over your ears and pressed the radio button for Lando’s car. Nodding to you with a smile 
“Hey baby. That’s a positive P2” You hummed, hoping he’d catch on to what you were saying without Sky or F1TV or any other showings catching it. 
“Positive?” He asked with a frown. You could hear the frown on his face
“Wait? What are you doing on the radio?” Now very confused as to everything 
“Yep. Positive P2” You smiled
“Zak let me tell you your position for the day” You looked at Zak, who was smiling at you 
“Oh my god, Y/N. This is brilliant. I love you so much!” He exclaimed 
“I’ll see you at the podium baby” You gave Zak his headphones back 
“Got a podium to get to. Let’s go” He smiled, and you walked with him. Zak’s more than just the CEO to you and Lando. He was always a phone call away if anything went wrong or if you didn’t travel out to a race and couldn’t get a hold of Lando the next best person to call was Zak because he’d always answer. 
Zak would invite you, Lando, Oscar, and Lily out for food whenever he got the chance or would send you little gifts during Christmas or your birthday. He was kinda like a father figure to you both. Standing watching the podium next to Zak, you could see how big the smile on Lando’s face was compared to normal. 
Meeting Lando back in his driving room, you were instantly wrapped in a hug with his hands landing on your stomach as he kissed your neck from behind 
“I can’t believe it, baby. You’re serious, right? We’re going to have a baby? I got the message, right?” He asked, and you nodded 
“I’m very serious. We're going to have a baby. I’m so glad you got that message, though. I was a little worried you wouldn’t understand what I was saying” You smiled, turning in his arms as he kissed you properly this time. 
“Oh my god, a little baby. Oh love you’re parent’s. They’re gonna be so happy they’re getting a grandbaby” Lando was very excited as he basically jumped around the room like a little kid in a sweet shop. 
“If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to tell anyone for a few months” you whispered, sitting down on the couch in his driver's room. Lando looked over at you
“Whatever you want” He smiled, and you nodded 
“After being told I probably would never have kids, I don’t want to tell people. There’s a risk that everything might go wrong and I don’t want to tell everyone we’re having a kid to be reminded that actually we aren’t” You explained quietly and he wrapped you in a hug 
“Whatever you want to do we will do darling but I do know that I love you very much and whatever happens will never change my mind but we’ll do it together” He smiled kissing you around your face causing you to giggle from his stubble tickling your skin 
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Tag List
@bearryyy
@thewannabewriter
@lozzamen3
@barcelonaloverf1life
@hiireadstuff
@mxdi0
@f1kenzzz
@evie-119
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strang3lov3 · 10 hours
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Dirty Laundry
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Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.
Tags - 18+, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation on a washing machine, dirty boxer sniffing (you fucking freak), fantasizing about a dirty old man, unprotected piv, creampie, curmudgeon joel talks you through knife safety, washing machine repairs, and overstim. 8k words, idk what the fuck happened. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal , @beefrobeefcal , and @papipascalispunk for helping me edit this monstrosity and @joelsgreys for letting me scream about washers and dryers for days <3 A/N - i have worked harder on this than my finals, but that should surprise no one. i only have one more left and then you should be seeing more of me this summer <3 i have a lot a lot a lot planned and I've been so excited to share new shit with you. Roman girlies, I haven't forgotten about you. He's up next. Anyway, you maniacs know what you’re here for, so please enjoy.
Joel’s best kept secret is his Whirlpool brand washer and dryer set, which is hidden deep in his basement. You stand before it now, loading your dirty laundry into it, using what is definitely too much of Joel’s detergent. 
Perhaps it’s more accurate to say his washer and dryer set was his best kept secret, until you came along and forced his hand. Everything was fine, and then you showed up, both yourself and your basket of laundry soaking wet, leaving Joel with no choice but to lend you a hand. Biggest mistake of his life. 
As great as Jackson is, it still comes up short sometimes. Not with everything; you’re beyond blessed to live in the safety of its walls. Just technologically, sometimes it can leave you missing the finer things. It's not Jackson’s fault society is twenty years into an apocalypse, thus running on twenty-plus year old appliances. The older ovens, refrigerators, and other appliances that were built in the seventies to the nineties or so are surprisingly doing alright, but the ones built when manufacturing began to take a turn for the worse around the later nineties and 2000s are beginning to crap out, especially the washers. God, you hate laundry day. The washers at the laundromat in Jackson always give you a hard time. Week after week, your chosen washer won’t start, or it’ll stop mid-cycle. The laundry attendant, Patti, often helps you wash your clothes by hand which is nice, but still frustrating for you both. 
On a busy and gloomy Sunday a couple months back, you were lucky enough to pick one of the less temperamental washers and hardly had to fight or beg and plead with it to get it to wash your clothes. However, your luck ran out when it came time to dry, your dryer wouldn’t run. Refused to start, even with Patti’s help. Worse yet, every other dryer was in use at the moment.  You were shit out of luck. Patti offered you a sympathetic smile and sent you home with a baggy full of clothes pins and a wagon to carry your basket of sopping wet clothes. The clothespins were a nice gesture, but didn’t help much as you didn’t have a clothesline. And - you had to laugh - most of them were broken. Oh dear, sweet Patti.
Once at home, you did your best to hang up your clothes on your porch, laying them out over the thick wooden railing, securing them with rocks. The wind was blowing something fierce that day, and then you felt it – a raindrop. And then another, and another. Before you knew it, you were caught in a torrential downpour, with your clothes blowing every which way. Working to gather your clothes as quickly as possible, you haphazardly chucked the rocks that were keeping them still in every direction, your neighbor Joel interrupting the task when he came outside and started to shout at you. Joel’s a man that can only be described as crotchety. A curmudgeon, even. 
“The fuck are you throwing rocks at my window for?” he shouted, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind and the rain smacking your porch. 
“What?” you yelled back, “Joel, I can’t hear you.” 
“ROCKS,” he shouted again, “Why are you throwi–” Joel realized it was a lost cause then. He could see in your face that you couldn’t hear him, you looked puzzled and annoyed for a moment before you returned to throwing rocks and gathering clothes. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. Through the pouring rain, he marched across both his and your lawns and right up the steps of your porch. “What are you doing?”
“I was at the laundromat and the dryer stopped working so Patti gave me clothespins but I don’t have a clothesline so I tried to lay them out on my porch with rocks so they could dry but then it started to ra–” Getting the picture, Joel had stopped listening to you and joined you in gathering your clothes tossing stones back into the rock edging surrounding your house. “What are you doing?” you asked. 
“Nothin’, just– come on. Let’s go – we’re goin’ to my house,” he answered, dumping the last of your clothes into your basket. 
“Why?”
Lightning shoots from a nearby cloud, with booming thunder following suit. Joel’s soaking wet, as are you. His hair was dark and stuck to his forehead, his thin t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his soft, pillowy tummy and belly button and his thick, muscular biceps. “Go, go, go,” Joel shouted, waving you away. “Just go. Move.” he grunted as he lifted up your laundry basket and hauled it across the grass in quick strides. He held the basket on his hip as he opened his door for you, guiding you inside with a push to your lower waist. 
Your shoes squeaked as you followed Joel through his house. He took your basket down his basement stairs, “Be careful for me, stairs are steep,” he warned you, “Don’t need you crackin’ your skull open. Got enough shit to deal with.” It was sweet, knowing that he was looking out for you – even with the irritation lacing his tone. 
You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw what Joel had led you to. A washer and a dryer, olive green in color. He opened the door of the dryer and shoved your wet clothes inside it, then took off his own soaked shirt and pants and tossed them in too. “They’re clean,” he told you. 
In another lifetime where the world doesn’t go to shit and fungus is the least of your problems, the mundane appliances in front of you would be the very last thing on your mind. You’d be focused on Joel, watching rivulets of water slide down his jaw, past his Adam’s apple and pool in the hollow of his throat. You’d be tracing the outline of his body with your eyes, following that thin line of hair that spreads down his lower stomach, disappearing under his boxers. You’d be eyeing his thick bulge and the way that if you squint, you could see the outline of his cock. But in this life, in this moment – where the world went to shit a long time ago – you’re more amazed by the washer and dryer he stands next to. “This is why I never see you at the laundromat? The whole time, you’ve had a washer and dryer?” you asked, astonished. 
“M’not supposed to, but yeah,” Joel answered, shutting the dryer door before turning to you with his chin tilted down, eyebrows raised. Don’t you go tellin’ anyone, now.”
“I’m gonna tell Patti.”
Joel looked betrayed and puzzled. “I’m doin’ you a favor,” he reminded you.
“I know.”
“You want me to dry your clothes or not?” You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as you shrugged. “Oh, Christ,” Joel grumbled under his breath. “Why the hell would you go and rat me out?”
“Because, Joel, ” you began explaining, “All of the washers and dryers are breaking and you’re hoarding your own? I don’t think so – if everyone else has to share the washers, then you do too,” you scolded. “It’s selfish.” 
“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” You stared at Joel for a moment before turning on your heel to go tattle on him, just like you swore you would. “Wait–” Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you. Despite being long gone from Boston QZ, Joel couldn’t quite shake those smuggling and bargaining habits of his. You were serious about this threat, and he knew it. You’d march your ass through the pouring rain to go snitch on him to Patti. And really, the worst that would’ve happened to Joel would be a scolding from Maria and the washer and dryer removed from his home and placed in the laundromat. It’s not like he’d be placed in a pillory and have rotten tomatoes thrown at him. But still. Joel liked his washer and dryer. He sighed. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything, Joel. I just want to better our community.” 
Give me a break. “What do you want,” he repeated, his voice lower. 
You pressed your lips in a thin line, eyeing those pretty olive green appliances of his. It’s not a far walk to Joel’s house… And you wouldn’t have to wait in line to wash your clothes behind twenty other people. You did want to better your community, that much was true. But you weren’t opposed to bettering your own life. “Let me use your washer and dryer. Whenever I want.”
Joel was quick to counter in a stern voice, “Twice a week, tops.” 
“Three times,” you tried.
“Once,” Joel lowered his offer and then looked at you with his eyes squinted, his head cocked to the side. “Who does laundry three times a week?” 
It was a fair point. Even with your very own washer and dryer, you wouldn’t do that much laundry. “Fine. Twice,” you agreed, and Joel held out his hand for you to take and you shook on it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm. In that moment you met his eyes, taking in the beauty of his face. Those sparkling, big brown eyes and the beautiful curve of his aquiline nose. Your eyes traveled lower still, and it hit you both at that moment - the realization that Joel was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that you were still shivering in your cold, wet clothes. Joel dropped your hand quickly and grabbed a clean t-shirt from one of his own laundry baskets on top of the dryer. “Here. You can change into this and toss your clothes in there too, f’ya want.”
“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the shirt from his hand. “Do you have something to wear?”
“I’m a little behind on laundry, actually…” Joel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. You scoffed and chuckled at that. The luxury of his very own washer and dryer, right in the comfort of his home, and Joel had the audacity to be behind on laundry. “Uhh, anyway. You just turn the knob on the dryer to ‘high’ and press the start button. I’ll give ya some privacy to change, you can meet me upstairs when you’re done,” he said, and then shuffled past you. 
Once Joel was up the stairs, you took off your clothes and put them in with the rest of the clothing in the dryer. You changed into Joel’s t-shirt, the fabric was soft with time and many wearings, and it smelled like him despite being washed. It was a muted teal in color, littered with a couple of bleach stains here and there. You liked it. 
Upstairs, Joel made a couple of mugs of hot tea to warm you both up. “Honey?” 
“Yeah, Joel?”
“N- no, like…Was askin’ f’ya wanted honey in your tea.”
“Oh.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Y– yes please. Thank you.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. You watched as Joel stirred a bit of honey into your cup of tea, smirking as he then handed you the mug. Asshole. “Thought you were a coffee drinker,” you mused awkwardly, attempting to change the subject after taking a sip of the hot liquid, “You like tea?”
Joel grimaced in disgust as he took a sip of his own tea. “No. Just tryin’ to be polite for ya.” 
“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, you know,” you smiled into your mug. 
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aaand there it is. Curmudgeon Joel was back, Neighborly Joel never lasted long anyway. 
You sat on Joel’s couch, warming up with your cup of tea. Joel had noticed goosebumps on your thighs and pulled a blanket over your lap. He sat next to you with his mug steaming in his hands and just stared at you, not even realizing how deeply he was admiring the way his shirt hugged your curves just right, highlighting all the right parts of you. He jolted when he felt his cock thicken in his boxers, spilling his scalding hot tea all over his bare thighs. “God bless it,” he swore. Without thinking, he pulled the blanket from your legs and covered his own lap to hide his growing erection from you. 
“Joel, what the fuck?” 
“Nothin’. Just– m’cold,” he lied. “Jesus fuckin’- just - c’mere,” Joel huffed as he patted the spot next to him and urged you closer, then laid the blanket back over your legs. You sat shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as you sipped your tea and Joel’s went cold. Dork. 
Moments passed. You sat in silence, the only sound was the rain pounding against Joel’s windows as your heart fluttered in anxiety, or maybe excitement. You might’ve even called it butterflies in your tummy. But you knew better. It was just the close proximity to Joel. And the fact that you were wearing his shirt, and he was practically naked. All of it pretty insignificant, honestly. It was basically nothing.
Joel finally spoke first, “Was thinkin’ it’d be best if you’d come by at night, when I’m on patrol or somethin’. Nobody’ll see you with your laundry and it’ll stay our lil’ secret, yeah?” You nodded, still a little bashful with everything that had happened. You aren’t often like that. It’s cute, Joel thought. “An’ you can use my detergent and whatnot. Whatever you need, s’yours.” 
“Thank–” an especially bright flash of lightning followed by nearly deafening thunder interrupted you. You startled and sort of hurled yourself closer to Joel, grabbed his forearm and held it tight. It was just a reflex, probably. Basically nothing. 
“It’s just a storm, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna bite ya,” Joel teases with a grin. 
“Oh, shut up,” you let go of his arm and missed the warmth of his skin beneath your palm almost immediately, but your longing for his touch was quickly soothed. Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side as you listened to the sounds of the storm together. You stayed like that, inhaling the sweet scent of him, masculine and heady. He smelled like the rain, too, and the hair on his underarms tickled your skin but you didn’t mind. When your laundry dried, he carried your basket home for you. You thanked him and moved to shut the door, but Joel stopped it with his hand, “Washer can be sorta delicate sometimes, so just be careful with it.”
“Noted,” you replied. “See ya, Joel.”
“See ya, hon.”
A few nights later, you returned to his home with your basket of laundry. Joel was gone, on patrol as he often is at night. Doing the laundry was uneventful , even though you probably used too much detergent, but whatever. Joel didn’t have to know. The next time you did laundry, Joel was at home. He told you not to worry about whichever nights you come by, that he’d always leave the washer and dryer empty in the evenings for you to use. He was even generous enough to make you dinner that night. 
It all worked out. Joel’s washer and dryer stayed unknown to the rest of Jackson, and your laundry was cleaned in a much more efficient way. There really weren’t any flaws in your and Joel’s system, as long as you didn’t include the one laundry night where Joel was gone on patrol again, but had come home just as you were leaving. You bumped into him accidentally, causing a lacy pair of your panties to fall right out of your basket and onto his shoe. He bent down and picked them up for you, not even realizing what he was holding. “Oh. My bad,” he blushed, once he recognized the garment. “I’ll just…” and put them back in your basket. From that point forward, he was always careful to stay out of your way. Aside from that it really did all work out. 
-
After loading your clothes into Joel’s washer, you shut the washer door and turn it on. You make your way upstairs and there’s a note on Joel’s table – Leftovers in the fridge are yours if you wanna heat them up.
Opening the fridge, you see a neatly packed container of what looks to be chicken and vegetables. Yum. God, you’ll miss these vegetables when it gets cold again. You take advantage of the offer and heat up the food in a pan on the stovetop, humming to yourself as you stir the food to keep it from burning. A light flickers above you. Weird. It flickers again, and then finally goes out. But it’s no big deal, you’ve seen in Joel’s basement that above the washer and dryer is a shelf full of supplies and you know there’s a couple of bulbs there. You go back downstairs where the washer hums, working its way through the cycle.
“Hmm,” you hum to yourself. You’d never quite realized just how high up that supply shelf is. And the bulbs are in the middle of the shelf, so there’s no good way to get them without climbing on top of the washer, which Joel would probably kill you for doing. He did ask that you be careful with his fragile washer, after all. Whatever. It’ll take like six seconds, tops. You hoist yourself on the washer and first try kneeling on it to see if you can reach one of the bulbs. No luck. You stand on your feet then, raising yourself up carefully, slowly, feeling the washer shake slightly beneath your feet. Joel would be absolutely irate if he saw you like this now. When you finally grab one of those light bulbs, you carefully lower yourself to a seated position on the washer to catch your breath. You’re not usually prone to vertigo, but Joel’s wobbly washer brought the dizziness on. You know better than to try and move right now, so you just settle yourself down to avoid fainting.  
The washer vibrates under the flesh of your thighs. It’s a gentle sensation, lessened by the angle you’re sitting at. But if you focus really hard, you can feel it in your core. Curious, you spread your legs and turn to the corner of the washer, tilting your hips to the floor, and oh, this is it. You’re not even thinking about potential consequences when you shimmy your shorts and panties off, then find that sweet spot once more. The metal of the washer is cool against you as it vibrates, sending sweet little buzzes through your hot core. You’re not quite wet yet, just enjoying the sensation. Letting it build and build, seeing where it can get you. You let your mind wander, not really thinking about much in particular. The low hum of the washer fades away in your mind and you’re starting to become wet. Shifting your position, you extend your arm to find something to grab onto when you feel fabric. Joel’s clothes. He’s still a slacker with keeping up on his dirty laundry. Usually it would irritate you. It does irritate you, this exorbitant waste of an advantage he has. You look at the shirt in your hand, the same shirt Joel had lent you. You think back to that first time you did laundry here at Joel’s, how he sat next to you nearly naked. The feel of his skin and the smell of him - sweat and rain and musk. And Joel being the beautiful, incognizant man he is, probably had zero clue of how sexy he looked. Or smelled, for that matter. 
With Joel now on your mind and his shirt in your hand, you decide to experiment, create a better ambiance. You keep those images of him in your mind, those feelings too. You remember the low timbre of his voice, the rain splashing against the windows, the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders. And with his dirty t-shirt clutched in your fist and its armpit pressed against your nose you remember his scent. Smell is a powerful sense, closely linked to memory and emotion, his shirt and what it’s doing to you is a testament to that fact. Legs spread wide, your hips angled down with your clit pressed to the corner of Joel’s washer, the machine vibrating under you as you inhale his scent deeply - you’re back in that memory. And then some. 
In your mind, your back on Joel’s couch. You can smell him, feel him, and if you really concentrate, you can even taste him. You’re on your knees and he’s drawing lazy patterns on your back as you suck his cock and fondle his balls, and he’s moaning, grunting and whimpering your name. He tastes like he smells, heady and all masculine. He grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, guides you to straddle his hips. His forehead pressed against yours, he notches the tip of his cock inside you and pulls you down slowly, careful so as not to hurt you but it does, of course it does. Not that you mind, you love the stretch and the ache of his thickness splitting you in two. You rock yourself, grind your clit against that unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock. You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re coming. 
You’re coming. Loudly, whimpering Joel’s name as you rut against the vibrating machine. As you finish, so does the washer. It sings you a little chiming song indicating the load is done washing. You can’t help but giggle at that as you bask in the discovery of this fortuitous delight. You’ve got private access to a washer and dryer and a vibrator now too? Lucky, lucky, lucky. 
God, Joel’s shirt smells good. You inhale it deeply, wondering if he wears cologne. It smells almost woodsy…smokey, even. 
Fuck. You’re smelling smoke. 
You pull on your pants and sprint up the steps, racing to Joel’s kitchen only to find that the chicken and veggies you were heating up are no more. They’re black and shriveled, cemented to the stainless steel pan, and there’s no salvaging that. No amount of scrubbing can erase your masturbatory mistake. Fuck, Joel’s gonna kill you. Your only choice is to conceal the evidence. Surreptitiously, you take the pan and hide it under a bush outside Joel’s backdoor.
You’ll be more responsible next time - yes, there absolutely will be a next time. Gas off before you get off. 
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The next time came and went. And the time after that, and the one after that. Laundry was always your least favorite chore, but with access to Joel’s washer and dryer and this new trick up your sleeve, it’s not so bad. Getting off on Joel’s washer has become a weekly thing and it’s been lovely, relieving, dirty, and exciting, but you’d be lying if you were to say it’s been perfectly fine the whole time. 
You’ve been abusing the poor machine. It’s no secret. You get every bang for your buck out of the washer, taking full advantage of Joel’s twice a week offer and then some. Some nights you’ll sneak over and do an extra load, wash a blanket or something just to make the washer run for your masturbatory purposes. And so, the vibrating sensation the machine produces has begun to weaken. In order to compensate, you’ve been rocking yourself harder on it, which probably isn’t helping. But it’s still washing your clothes, right? 
…Yes. Mostly. It still washes, but it’s become sort of finicky. And the door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to, and it makes an odd noise now that it never made before. 
Tonight you’re at Joel’s doing a double load of laundry. There were no ulterior motives on your part when you came over, honestly and truly. Your first load is drying, the second load is in the washer. Joel’s home tonight, he’s gonna cook you dinner like he always does when he’s around. For such a grouch, he wears his heart on his sleeve. 
It would be more accurate to say you’re cooking dinner together. Joel came home with a basket full of fresh vegetables from the market and actually put you to work, his reasoning being that he was starving and wanted dinner ready yesterday, and that having your help cutting up the vegetables for the meal he was making would have dinner ready that much sooner. He places a cutting board in front of you and hands you a knife, “Chop chop,” he says, then laughs at his own pun as he rifles through some cabinets. “Missin’ a saucepan…” he mumbles to himself. Oops.
You start by peeling the carrots. As you begin to chop them, you realize he didn’t give you any sort of instruction. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon.”
“How small do you need me to cut the carrots?”
“Uhhhh,” he thinks. “Lemme see.” Joel turns around and watches you with a look of disappointment and repulsion painting his features. “What’s the matter with you?”
“What?” you ask defensively. 
“Why are you tryin’ to cut off your fingers?”
You look down at your hand holding the carrot and your other hand holding the knife, then up at Joel. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not trying to cut off my fingers.”
“Sure looks like it to me. Is that always how you handle a knife?”
“Yeah,” you reply, “Why?”
“‘Cause you’re gonna cut off your damn fingers, dammit, that’s why. C’mere,” Joel stands behind you where you stand at the island, then lifts up your left hand and curls your fingers underneath themselves. “Keep your fingers like this,” he instructs. “Holdin’ your fingers out flat like that are a sure fire way to cut ‘em off. Now show me how you chop.” 
With your fingers in the proper position now, you begin to cut the carrots. They wobble beneath you, you hate the way Joel has you holding them. “This is uncomfortable,” you tell him. 
“You know what’s more uncomfortable? Missin’ fingers. Keep goin’.” You groan but keep chopping per his demand. He’s pressed against your back, one of his palms lays flat against the countertop, semi caging you in as he watches you work. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re makin’ me nervous. Gimme this.” Joel wraps his hand around yours on the handle of the knife. He moves the knife for you, cutting the carrot slowly, your hand securely in his. “You’re liftin’ the knife too much, sweetheart. Just rock it back and forth for me. Just like this,” he whispers, showing you how he rocks the knife in a fluid motion to cut the carrots. His hands are warm, his grip on your hands is firm. His breath is hot and tickles your ear, sending goosebumps erupting down the back of your neck. He chops the carrots quietly, and you feel him against you - the rise and fall of his chest and tummy with each inhale and exhale he takes, his wiry scruff kissing the side of your face. “That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl.”
Fuck. His words go right to your core. As if him holding your hands and caging you in to teach you how to cut vegetables wasn’t enough, he had to call you ‘good girl’ as well. That had to be deliberate on his part, you’re almost certain of it. And now you’ve got to pay his washer another visit. His fault, honestly. “Laundry,” you blurt out, pushing his hands off of yours and shrinking away from his hold. “Sorry. Gotta check the laundry.”
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“Oh. Alright, then.” Joel watches you pace down the basement stairs and listens to you pretend to check on your clothes, opening and shutting the washer and dryer doors. He’s waiting for you to come upstairs, but you never do. “You comin’ upstairs?”
“Yeah, just a minute,” you call back.
“There’s spiders down there, you know. Big an’ fuzzy too.” 
“I’ll be fine,” you yell as you unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “I don’t mind them.”
Your reply immediately has Joel feeling suspicious of you. Even a mention of a mere ant should have sent you running into his arms and pleading with him to get rid of it. On more than one occasion, Joel’s woken up to you pounding on his door in the middle of the night begging him to come kill a spider that’s in your bedroom. And he always does, of course, even when the spider is miniscule and simply minding its business in a corner somewhere. He’ll scoop it into the palm of his hand and set it outside in a bed of flowers, call you a wimp and be on his merry way, grumbling the entire walk home. He wonders why the hell you’re so brave all of a sudden. 
A loud, clunking noise interrupts the silence. “Oh, fuck,” you swear. And Joel’s deaf, but not deaf enough to not hear you. “What was that?” he calls from up the stairs. 
“Nothing!”
Joel knows it wasn’t nothing, it certainly didn’t sound like nothing. You quickly pull your shorts and panties back on when you hear him stomping down the stairs to investigate. Wracking your brain to think of a lie to tell Joel, you realize you’re fucked, utterly and completely. It would’ve been more appropriate to think of one before now, probably around the time the washer started to make weird noises. Now you’re faced with god knows what consequences. 
Joel greets you with a puzzled and angered expression. “What the hell happened?”
“I d– I don’t know. Just something… Happened, I guess,” you stutter. Subtly, you stuff the used pair of his boxers you were smelling down the back of your shorts to hide the evidence of your even dirtier secret. Joel sees that you’re avoiding eye contact, looking up and away, scratching your head. The silence hangs heavily in the air and Joel sees the guilt on your face and that your shorts are undone for some reason. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth before this becomes a much worse day for us both.”
“Nothing happened–”
 “Nine, eight…”
You fold instantly. “I sit on it,” you confess, Joel exhales in frustration. “Sit? As in… this is a regular occurrence, you’ve been sittin’ on my washer,” Joel asserts. You nod in confirmation. “Why.”
 “I don’t know,” you shrug, another lie. 
“Well, how much have you been sittin’ on it?” 
“Just like…a lot, I guess.” You look down at your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.  
“Why?” he asks again.
“It…uhh…sort of…” you mumble, picking at your fingernails. 
“Sort of what?”
“Vibrates.”
Joel’s face falls at the admission. “You’re not serious,” he says, but he knows you are. “Oh my god.”
“Stranger things have happened, right?” Your voice wavers as you try to soften the blow with a joke. 
“Unbelievable,” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No. Stranger things than you have not happened, sweetheart.” After taking a few deep breaths, he pushes you to the side and reaches for the shelf above the washer for a toolbox. He takes out a putty knife and wriggles the front of the washer off, then drops to his knees to inspect the washer. “Did I not ask you to be careful with it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Joel groans when he sees what’s broken inside of the washer. 
“What is it?”
“Belt’s broken,” he answers. “You’re lucky s’fixable.”
“Oh,” you say. “Well, it’s good you can fix it, right?”
 “Oh, no. You are fixin’ it, my darlin’. You broke it.”
Joel’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re putting his washer back together. “I don’t know how,” you tell him. You’ll make it up to him in any other way than this, but there’s no way he’s serious. Besides, he’s now the first to know that your track record with washers isn’t to be trusted.
 “I’ll walk you through it,” Joel replies plainly. “Get down there. On your knees, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now,” he says, unimpressed with your defiance.
You drop to your knees in front of the washer, looking for the broken belt that Joel speaks of. You find one of the big and fuzzy spiders he was talking about instead. “Jesus!” you yelp, launching backwards and nearly knocking Joel over in the process “There’s a spider, Joel - kill it, kill it, kill it, Joel - kill it, please,” you beg. 
“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s harmless.”
“Joel!”
Joel nudges you out of the way to find the spider sitting right at the bottom of the washer. He scoops it into his hand, then holds it in front of you, “I thought you said you didn’t mind ‘em,” he taunts. 
“I lied. Get it away from me,” You shove him away from you, and he clutches the spider more carefully in his hands, laughing. 
“Yeah, I know you lied. You’re very bad at it,” Joel opens one of the basement’s egress windows and sends the spider on its way, then closes it and returns to you, first grabbing what looks to be a replacement belt for his washer from a nearby shelf. Leave it to Joel to have the most convenient yet obscure supplies right in his basement twenty years into an apocalypse. “Back to work.” You’re in front of the washer once more, and Joel takes his seat right behind you. “See that black belt at the bottom of the drum?”
“No.”
“This thing here,” he points at it with his finger. “Take it off,” You reach for the belt and tug on it a bit, “Gotta wiggle it a bit,” following his instruction, you wiggle the belt and it falls off the drum. “Attagirl. Now put this one on,” he hands you the new belt and takes the old one from you. “S’gonna be snug.”
You struggle to stretch the rubber over the drum and it snaps your hands when it slips. “Fuck.”
“Keep tryin’. Put some elbow grease into it, hon,” Joel hovers over your shoulder, just as he did earlier in the kitchen. “M’just checkin’ to make sure you got it lined up properly,” Joel tugs on the rubber belt, making sure it’s sitting where it needs to. “So tell me again how long you been doin it for,” he whispers. “Long time?”
You answer cautiously, “Uhhh…a while now, I guess.”
 “Yeah, I figured. S’it feel good?” 
The question throws you off, makes you nervous. But his voice is low and gravelly, and his tone isn’t pointed or accusatory. He seems curious, but for what reason, you’re not quite sure yet. “It does.”
“Better than your fingers?” Joel tightens the belt a bit and leans back. He’s watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes. You gasp when you feel his warm palm sliding underneath your shorts. “What the–” Oh, fuck. Joel found his pair of boxers. He holds the fabric in his hands, a knowing grin on his lips. “These are mine. What’re you doin’ with my dirty boxers?” he asks. He doesn’t allow you time to stutter out an excuse. “You’re a dirty lil’ bird, aren’t you?”
“Joel.”
He tosses his pair of boxers onto the dryer and whispers in your ear again, “I asked you somethin’. My washer feel better than your fingers?”
“Yeah,” you answer, “Better.”
Joel hums in amusement. He slides his hand down the front of your pants, still unbuttoned from earlier. “Saved me the trouble, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” he breathes. Your breath hitches when his fingers find your mound, as he toys with the curls there. He traces over your lips, then dips a finger between them, circling your hole, then circles your clit. “Better than mine?” he asks, dipping a finger into your center and you moan.  He holds one hand on your hip as the other pumps in and out of your center, and you lean back into his chest, relaxing with his touch. You sigh deeply. “Don’t get all cozy on me, now. You ain’t done. Gotta put the front of the washer back on, should just click right into place.”
Joel pulls his hand away from you so you can lift the front piece of the washer. “It’s not–” you complain, struggling to click it into place the way Joel says it should. You push and push, but it doesn’t budge. “Joel, it’s not–”
“It will. Just try.” 
“I am,” you argue, shoving it once more but to no avail. You’ve grown frustrated by his washer, by the task Joel bestowed upon you in fixing it, and his teasing, too. In a fit of anger, you stand up and kick it.
 “Hey, easy,” Joel scolds. “Look, like this,” Magically, the front piece of the washer fits right into place, just like he said it would. He does nothing different than what you did, it just works out for him. Of course it does. “You’re impatient, huh?” he murmurs, moving behind you. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips, tugging the fabric of both your shorts and your panties down to your ankles, he helps you out of the garments and tosses them elsewhere. His hands are on your hips again, this time guiding you, whispering, “Back, back,” as he positions you where he needs you, spreading your legs apart. You’re leaning on his washer and he’s on his knees behind you, using his nose to tease and part your slick folds. He inhales you deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal before he tastes you. He traces your lips with a pointed tongue, up and down, before he dips his tongue into your heat, savoring you. 
“How ‘bout my tongue?” he purrs, whispering against your skin. You don’t answer, and it’s not like you could anyway, with the way he devours you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, his fingertips are digging harshly into your thighs like he means to bruise you, tear the flesh off your bones even. It’s possessive in nature, but not abusive or aggressive. You know his actions aren’t borne of anything except pure pleasure and you indulge in it, in him. He moves slow like honey as he tastes you languidly, kissing you. He laps your velvety heat, his tongue teasing all of your sensitive, slick flesh. Now and then the wiry hairs of his beard will tease and scratch your inner thighs, a sensation that tickles you and rubs you raw all the same. “Oh my god,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to take hold of his head, fingers tangling in his graying curls and waves. “Joel, oh my god.”
Joel takes your lack of a real answer to his question as a no, his washer pales in comparison to his tongue. Good. He bets you’ve fantasized about him, all those times you’ve used his washer for those needs of yours besides washing your clothes. And he bets that you probably grind yourself on it, picturing it’s his warm flesh beneath you and not the cold metal of the machine. He’d be right. He sucks your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. He nips at your folds, sucking one, then the other between his plump lips, then focuses his attention back at your clit. You’re moaning his name, the only word you know anymore. Joel keeps you still, held tight in his arms so that you can’t push your ass back and grind against his mouth like he knows you’re fighting to do. All you can do is take it, feel his perfect aquiline nose tease between your cheeks. He’s buried himself face first in your most private place as he consumes you voraciously, his tongue flicking and swirling and painting you. You’re biting into your own arm, seeing stars as you come on his tongue. It’s an elusive sort of orgasm, the kind where you don’t exactly know where it begins and it ends. All you know is that you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive and Joel is relentless. Your knees buckle as he toys with your clit, gives you a break for a moment before he’s right back there again, continuing to eat you. He keeps going and going, repeating the actions over and over again just to make you cry and beg, “Stop - please - I can’t, I can’t, Joel. T-too much.”
“Know it’s too much, sweetheart, s’why I’m doin it,” Joel coos. But he obliges, places one last kiss to your heat, soaked by his spit and your own arousal before he stands up behind you. He wraps one arm around your stomach, pulling himself close to you. You can feel his hard cock against your ass, separated only by his denim as he uses his other hand to turn your face to the side, meeting him beside you. He kisses you, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, then feel his hand leave your face to reach for his fly. You hear him unzip his jeans slowly, and then he’s pulling his cock out, still kissing you as he lines up with you, first parting your thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee before notching his tip at your entrance. He finally pulls his mouth away from yours and gently forces your chest down toward the washer. He pushes himself into you, careful so as not to hurt you but deliberately so that you still feel that ache, the stretch of his thick cock separating your insides. Joel continues holding your body close to his as he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlacing his fingers in between your own.  “How about my cock, sweetheart? You like it better, worse?” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your ear in between words. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, then pushes back into your dripping cunt. 
You try to answer, “Bet - oh, ahhh,” 
Joel chuckles at the way he’s reduced you to nothing but broken syllables and moans. “Ohhh, listen to you. I think it’s better, huh? S’that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” You nod frantically. “Yeah, I know, beautiful.”
His pace is slower to start, but it builds in quick time. You can feel he’s fighting with himself to be more gentle than he actually wants to be, his thrusts sloppier than he intends, like he’s losing himself in you. You’re lost in him, lost in the moment all the same. You take it all in, the lewd and obscene sounds of the pleasure he creates with you - his thighs slapping against yours and the gushing of your cunt on his cock. Your moans, your cries, all babbling nonsense. And Joel’s deep breaths in and out, shaky and stuttering as he does it. His grunts and his swearing, a whimper here and there if you listen closely. He fills you up perfectly, hits that sweet spot deep inside you over and over and over…
“You coulda had me like this the whole time,” he pants, “Didn’t have to go an’ break my washer f’ya needed somethin’ more than those fingers of yours, sweetheart. Know you been needin’ some lovin’.”  He reaches for your breasts, squeezing and groping the flesh, twisting your nipples and smirking when you twitch and whine. “All you had to do was ask.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to anyway. What he did expect, however, were your moans of displeasure as he pulls out of you. He knows, oh, he knows how empty you must feel, you poor thing.  He’ll soothe that. He flips you around, seats you on his washer. “I’m gonna make you come again,” he promises, “I’m gonna watch.”
 “Too much, Joel, I can’t,” you cry. You want to come again, really. But you don’t think you have it in you, still so worked up, overstimulated by the endless teasing of his tongue on your pussy.
 “Oh, don’t cry. You can do it, hon. You can take it,” he says, “Open up those legs for me, darlin’.” Joel pushes your trembling legs wide so he can slot his hips between them, then wraps your legs around his waist before sliding his cock into you once more. He thrusts just once, rather harshly, before he’s met with another rather loud noise from the washer. Joel halts and scratches the back of his neck. God, he hopes he didn’t just do it in. “Probably shouldn’t…uh…”
“Yeah,” you agree. 
“Did you use my dryer too?”
“Duh,” you answer. “How else would I dry my clothes?”
Joel rolls his eyes, “No, smartass. Were you usin’ it for your dirty work, is what I’m askin’.”
“No.” 
Still inside you, Joel slides you over to his dryer. “Good girl. Poor washer’s been abused plenty by you already.”  
“But I will,” You whisper defiantly under your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck as he adjusts. 
“Wrong ear, sweetheart. My right one’s deaf. I heard that loud and clear.”
Joel’s back to fucking you in an instant. He wastes no time in making good on his promise, thumbing your clit as he rolls his hips into you. “See, look at you. Takin’ me just fine,” he praises.The way you squirm and take your shallow little breaths fills him with satisfaction and delight. He knows this isn’t easy, that you’re tired and sore and overstimulated. He’ll be done with you soon. “Come with me, wanna feel you come with me, sweetheart,” he says. “Focus here, eyes on me. You’re gonna come with me.” 
It’s a few moments of Joel painting your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you hard and deep. There’s a push and pull to it, where you’re not sure who this is for - yourself or Joel. Just like before, you’re not sure where it starts and stops, but you’re there. God it’s intense, you’re gonna break and you know it. Joel’s got his palm on the back of your neck, squeezing you. His jaw clenches and he’s coming undone first, but he never loses focus on you. His thrusts stutter as he milks himself in you but doesn't yet stop - he’s making sure you’re gonna come. “C’mon baby, c’mon. Give it to me,” he says. “One more for me. Last one.” 
His words are all it takes. You whimper and moan, cry his name as you find your climax. Release washes over you the way waves crash onto sand - it’s repeated, the way the tides push and pull. Deafening. Powerful. 
But there’s a calmness yet. The rolling of his hips slows, slows, stops. He presses his damp forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay?”
You nod and smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiles with you and helps you off of the dryer. Joel finds your clothes and dresses you in them, steadying your shaky legs. 
Joel tentatively restarts the washer. It chugs a bit, but makes all the right noises and he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re a bit startled when he takes you by the arm and marches you up the stairs. “New rule,” he says, “You stay with me when your clothes are washin’.”
You bite your lip to hide your guilty smirk. “Yes. Joel.” 
“And I still need you to cut them veggies for me, too.” 
I struggled heavily with this fic, comments and reblogs would be much appreciated if you were feeling so inclined🙏 they keep me motivated and I look back at your words when I’m writing to remember that I’m capable of pleasing you all
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pierregazly · 12 hours
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thinkin' bout you ꨄ lando norris
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lando norris x reader
warnings: smut (18+ only), soft!dom lando, a little bit of degradation, lando is a tease [968 words]
request: 🌶 44. “I saw you naked once. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.” Best friend Lando
note: loved this!! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
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The groans filled the silence in the room, his body pressed tight against yours, his lips peppering kisses up and down your neck. Your own sighs floating in conjunction with the noises emitting from his body, sweat dripping down your neck as you tilted your head back, desperate for the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin.
He knew the exact spots to kiss; the exact spots to scrap his teeth against, to drag his tongue across. One night together, and it felt like he knew your body like the back of his hand. The sighs and whimpers leaving your mouth just simply egged him on, encouraging him. In a sense, teaching him without words.
His grip on your hips never wavered, tightening with every press of his lower body against yours. The tent in his pants so evident, so apparent how you were making him feel, the way his inner conscious wanted you.
“God, the fucking things y’do to me,” he whispered, his teeth tugging at the lobe of your ear as he pulled away to look in your eyes.
His pupils were blown out, his lips red and angry, the small bite marks from your own teeth obvious and inflamed on his neck. Sweat gathered at the top of his forehead, his face flushed.
Lando Norris looked properly aroused. Like one touch of your hand, or your mouth, to the spot he was craving you so desperately; and he would blow. 
It made you want to push yourself closer to him, drop down to your knees and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, beg him to give you what you’ve been yearning for all night long. But you couldn’t break, not that easily. 
You had told him more than once you weren’t here to sleep with him, weren’t here to give him what you knew he wanted. But he knew you like he knew himself, knew exactly what made you tick, knew exactly what would get you going, and keep you running.
His hand resumed its place on your waist, pulling you closer to his body, his lips hovering over yours. You could feel the puffs of breath leaving his mouth, the heat emitting from his body prompting a sweat to break out on your own.
“Y’know, I saw you naked once… and I can’t stop thinking about it,” the grip on your waist tightened, as his lips pressed up your cheek towards your ear.
“Every time I touch my cock, I think about how your pussy wrapped around it. Fuck, I think about those pretty lips of yours wrapped around it, the way you were practically begging for me to cum down your throat. Such a little slut then, weren’t you?”
You felt yourself practically melting at his words, your core pulsing as the pit in your stomach grew. The desire for him growing more and more with every word that dropped from his mouth. It was hard to deny that it wasn’t the same for you, he was all you could think about, all your body desired late at night when moans filtered into the air.
“Why haven’t y’got me naked yet then, Lan? Calling me all this dirty names, but can’t even get me ready, hm?” Taunting him, you waited for the inevitable reaction.
What you weren’t expecting was for him to spin you around, pressing the front of your body up against the wall, your back pressed harshly against his front. You could feel everything about him so much better at this angle, the hardened length still covered by his sweats pressed against your behind, prompting you to grind back into him.
“God, you’re just begging for me to bend you over, aren’t you? Begging for me to tug down these shorts and see how soaked you are, cause I know you’re just dripping for me. So dirty, darling.”
Shuddering at his words, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand when no witty response fell from your lips. 
“Y’gonna get naked for me now, pretty girl? Or do I have to do all the work around here?” He tugged on the bottom of your shirt, gesturing for you to lift your arms so he could remove the piece of clothing from your body.
With your back still pressed against his front, you felt your nipples harden from the cold air. Lando’s hands ghosting up your body until he had both in his palms, his fingers gently pinching and tugging at the pebbled buds. 
“Been thinking about these every night, my tongue swirling around them in my dreams has woken me up more nights than I care to admit,” he murmured in your ear, an extra pinch to one causing a gasp to fall from your lips.
“Bet if I stuck my hand inside these shorts of yours, m’fingers would come back soaked - wouldn’t they? Answer me,” he enunciated his demand with an extra pinch of his fingers, your back arching into him.
You reluctantly nodded your head, the need coursing through your body overpowering the stubbornness to keep him at bay.
“Use your words, baby,” his hand began to stroke down your stomach, thumbing at the waistband of your shorts before dipping inside.
“Please, Lan. I need you, so bad. I’m so wet for you.”
The words spurred him on, his hand pushing all the way inside your shorts, running a single digit through your wet heat. It didn’t stay there long, his hand leaving your shorts only seconds later, a whine falling from your lips as they did.
You turned to watch him bring the finger up to his lips, sucking off the wetness that coated them.
“Think it’s time for you to get on the bed, baby. I need to see you naked, now.”
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this is like BARELY smut but it's still naughty!!! so it still counts!! hope y'all love it
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crippledpunks · 1 day
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chronic fatigue weaves its way into everything. people love to tell disabled people they'd love to rest as much as we do, but they fail to understand how tired we are while we rest. we are not relaxed, we are generally pretty miserable, either from pain, irritability, or fatigue- which bleeds into every aspect of your life. being too fatigued to get up off of the couch means that you're too fatigued to get to the cupboard to pull out pans to attempt to start cooking.
the steps hidden within steps that are required to do a lot of tasks related to being a "functioning adult" are daunting, there are often way too many steps necessary to make "Simple" foods or do "simple" chores for disabled people to accomplish these tasks. chronic fatigue often means that even waking up from a nap or night's rest requires time to adjust to and power through
waking up is a process for me. im often no more alert and awake hours after i've woken than I am right after doing so. caffeine does not help fatigue- at least not at safe doses, for me, anyways. many days the act of moving from my bedroom to my living room is too much. taking dishes to the sink can be too exhausting. i have began falling asleep in front of the kitchen counter while standing because i realize the amount of steps required to clean the counters, or do the dishes, or prepare a meal that all of my energy instantly bleeds away
it's okay if you feel this way too. i have been dealing with chronic fatigue my entire life and it cost me my best paying job. i lost my ability to work because of it. it's not just you being "sleepy", you are genuinely too exhausted to function. you do NOT have the energy levels other people do, and that's okay. it's okay to let yourself be tired sometimes and address that instead of trying to pretend you're not tired.
i wish you good luck. you are loved
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honeybeefae · 1 day
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For headcanon monday, I have this one in my head that when Azriel finds his mate she’s going to be so SMALL in comparison to him, like just so short and little standing next to this big Illyrian warrior - but Azriel LOVES it, finding any excuse to pick her up/carry/generally hold her, constantly teasing her about her size, and omg how *protective* he is over her not only because she’s his mate but because of her size, and she is just a ball of feisty energy that clearly has no fear of a n y t h i n g
STOP THIS IS SO CUTE OMG
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Azriel With a Short Mate:
Azriel was already certain he didn't have a mate. He asked the Mother every night for years when it was his turn, when he would join his brothers, but when they went unanswered, he finally turned away from the childish dreams.
So, color him floored when he catches sight of you, his chest tightening with something he was too scared to think of.
You were arguing with someone right outside of Rita's; your small stature was immediately noticeable compared to the tall man you were fighting with.
He felt a surge of protectiveness overcome his senses, his shadows already reaching out to you before the guy not so gently pushed you.
Everything seemed to slow as he stepped forward, fists already curled, until he saw your own fist raise and collide with the man's jaw.
His eyebrows raised in surprise, stepping to the side as the man stumbled back and fell to the ground.
Your breathing was ragged as you shook your hand, curling and uncurling your fingers as you finally looked up at him.
And everything clicked into place.
The two of you grew closer quickly and, within months, already moving in together.
In that time, you realized Az LOVED your height. You had opened up about it one night as being an insecurity.
He listened and then held you close, able to completely cocoon you in his wings as he stroked your hair and whispered to you how beautiful you are.
"You're perfect, Y/N. Look how well we fit together."
He might also say this during sex but that's a whole other post.
He loves to hold you when he takes you flying, enjoying the way you can bury your head into his neck when he swoops down suddenly.
He carries you whenever you have too much to drink, when you're too tired to make it to bed, when you're sick, really just any time he can. It's his favorite thing.
He makes sure to match his stride whenever you two are walking, holding your hand and gazing down at you with the most adoring eyes.
Everyone teases you about your height difference, especially the IC, but Azriel makes you feel so secure that you no longer mind.
Even Az teases you sometimes, leaning his arm on your head or holding this where you can't reach when you're being a little bit of a brat.
The best thing about your height though is how protective he is of you.
You can hold your own in a fight, everyone knows that, but Azriel is so quick to rush to your defense. He'll stand in front of you, basically hiding you from how much taller he is as his wings flare and his shadows whisper against your ear not to be afraid.
You are his life. His heart. You are too precious to lose.
And, despite his protests, you protect him just as fiercely.
You basically have scary dog privilege. And you love it.
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sirfrogsworth · 3 days
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I tried to find more information about Albert here. There is an article in The Mirror, but some of the reporting seems dubious. Which I believe is standard operating procedure for that particular news outlet.
But according to the article, "Fat Albert" lives in the very specific area of "Alaska, USA" and is believed to be the fattest polar bear in the world. And they claim he got fat because the townspeople of "Alaska, USA" are following an ancient tradition that dates back "thousands of years."
"The locals throw out large amounts of whale blubber to the bears as a sign of 'respect'. They would cut a large portion of the whale and blubber, and drag it four miles out of town for the bears to find. This stops the bears from travelling into town to harvest and disrupting the process. In other words, it's a way to stop a group of hungry bears coming towards you in a hurry."
From supplemental research there is precedent for folks in Russia and Alaska to leave whale carcasses for polar bears, but I could not find any corroborating evidence about Albert specifically.
So, I rate this myth...
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In any case, when I saw this picture of Albert, it seemed like a good opportunity to practice my Photoshop skills. He has clearly been rolling around in some mud and his beautiful white coat has been obscured.
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It is very easy to change the color of something to red, blue, or green and every color in between. Just hit that hue/saturation and check colorize and you've got Pride Albert in a jiffy.
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However, it is much more challenging to change things to white or black. This is the bane of graphic designers who have to take the same picture of a t-shirt and digitally alter it to be every available color including black and white.
So I challenged myself to give Fat Albert a bath.
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And then I challenged myself again to make him a distant relative.
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I wish I could tell you the exact process for how to do this, but this is one of those things you have to trial and error your way through and I honestly don't remember everything I did.
One thing I can tell you is that I definitely, absolutely, positively named all my layers properly—as that is best practice and I am a good Photoshop boy.
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kindestofkings · 21 hours
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espresso
lando norris x reader
dets: an international pop star and a f1 driver could never be secretly dating right? right?
authors note: this is kinda chaotic but its been still in my drafts since that damn espresso song came out, how is it so good?
faceclaim: sabrina carpenter
yourusername
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liked by ynfan1 and others
yourusername me laughing at all y'all trying to figure out who my hot songs are about LOOLLLLLL you'll know when I want you to know MWAH xx
melbourne tonight :)))
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ynfan1 you are so unhinged I LOVE
charli_xcx just tell them its me !
yourusername you're right sorry wifey xx
ynfan2 wait are they still around??
ynfanupdates wait whats happening in melbourne tonight ???
ynfan3 she's so secretive, I didn't even know she was dating anyone
landonorris
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liked by martingarrix and others
landonorris tralia mate
view all other comments
danielricciardo looking fresh mate
landonorris thanks babe xx f1fan1 landos longest relationship right here f1fan2 bahahah for real man is chronically single
oscarpiastri 👍👍
f1fan1 best of luck this weekend !
yourusername just posted to their close friends!
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[caption: baby just had a great weekend at the office <3]
replies:
maxfewtrell disgustingly sweet
↳ jealousy is a disease, better get checked out xx
alexalbon ugh you two make me sick
↳ oh yeah and yourself and lily aren't worse 😐
yourusername
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liked by martingarrix and others
yourusername missing tour hours, should we do it again??
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ynfan1 PLEASE COME BACK
oliviarodrigo you never rest queen
yourusername lol duty calls ynfan1 huh? hasn't she been off for ages ? ynfan3 singers can have other responsibilities you do know that right
ynfan2 I just want to know who you're dating..
ynfanupdates
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liked by ynfan1 and others
ynfanupdates yourusername out in monaco tonight !
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ynfan1 huh wonder what has her in monaco? she's there alot recently
ynfan2 looooveee the orange
landofan1
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liked by landoupdates and others
landofan1 firstly tell how is a man so hot?? also look at how much he's vibing to yourusername's feather remix??
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landofan1 I could take him (not in a fight)
ynfan1 he is just like me fr
f1fan1 no WAY whats he doing playing yn? 👀
ynfan1 I mean she is one of the biggest pop singers in the world rn f1fan1 orrrrrrrr ynfan2 haha you wish
yourusername oooh whos he ?
landofan1 bahaahahha girl, you are everything I want my popstars to be
yourusername
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liked by chapellroan and others
yourusername pookie is away (again) so heres some pics of me looking hot for pookie, and pookie only <3
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ynfan1 what boyfriend would ever leave you??
yourusername I know right?? poor me !
chapellroan need a sub ?
yourusername I don't know what you're abbreviating but yes. yes please.
reneerapp god DAMN
(liked by yourusername)
f1fan1 hmmmmmmhmmm away? and theres a grand prix this weekend
lando.jpg
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liked by ynfan1 and others
lando.jpg returning the favour x Race weekend was gud
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landofan1 people died.
oscarpiastri such a poser
lando.jpg my lady loves it 🤷 landofan1 IS HE IN A RELATIONSHIP landofan2 since when wtf
f1fan1 I don't even care how delusional I am, he'd be so hot for yourusername
ynfan1 Ikr but they don't even follow each other :((
yourusername just posted to their story!
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[caption: pookie has returned <3]
replies:
landonorris I don't know how I feel about pookie...
↳ but POOKIE I love it (and you)
↳ landonorris ugh okay fine (love you too)
charli_xcx this soft launch is mean, and I know who it is
↳ hehehhe lol its SO fun tho
f1fan1 is that papaya ?
yourusername just followed landonorris!
landonorris just followed yourusername!
yourusername
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liked by landonorris
yourusername need a pick me up ?
Espresso 4/11 @ 8pm ET,
Music Video 4/12 @ 10:00am ET
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ynfan1 woooo queen is back
ynfan2 LOVE the vibe of this
landofan1 is that the JOLLY ???
landofan2 do we think lando is in the video?? cause thats defo him!
landonorris uber rating ?
yourusername 4 stars out of 5 ! missing star is because you kept making me laugh during filming landonorris always knew being so funny was a double edged sword. georgerussell sorry just confirming, do you think YOU are the funny one? ynfan1 what a random friendship, but so cute
f1fan1 finally followed each other, my delusions don't feel so crazy
landofan1 I would loveee if they became friends
landonorris just added to their close friends!
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[caption: we just hard launched via music video and people are thinking FRIEnDshIP ?]
replies:
yourusername babyyyy they're so stupid
↳ told you it's crazy you're dating me..
↳ yourusername UGH no enough of that
danielricardio the landonorizz lore is to deep I'm afraid..
lilyme cons of dating a hottie
yourusername
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liked by landonorris and others
yourusername guys this is my POOKIE! I just hardlaunched my muse, y'all should be blessed !
(last pic is not mine but like look at how he looks at me teehee...)
tagged: landonorris
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landonorris love of my life fuck
ynfan1 damn y'all are in love love aren't you
fan1 this is crazy to me lando and THE pop it girl??
yourusername me and THE lando norris who is a professional hottie and my pookie xx landofan1 ugh im obsessed with you two
ynfan1 you're telling me you've been dating another celebrity for at least 3 years and we've seen ZERO pap pics?
f1fan1 for real tho we would've seen her at a grand prix, theres thousands of cameras landofan1 yeah seems suss yourusername ugh guys !!! why are you making me spell everything out for you landonorris time to cook darling
mclaren finally the parents are insta official
yourusername get hyped to see me at a gp wigless xxx
ynfan1 you wear wigs??
yourusername have you worn wigs?? landonorris will you wear wigs??? ynfan1 omfg I get it now
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername and others
landonorris meet my three year pr relationship x
tagged: yourusername
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yourusername yes sorry guys the warming climate is all our fault !! just so fucking hot we cant help it eek
oscarpiastri you two are so unbearable already please go back to being a secret landonorris after 3 years of norizz jokes, I thinkkkk no !
landofan1 THREE yEaRs ???
mclaren wearing papaya off season? oh shes a keeper
ynfan1 heheh admin gets it
danielricciardo rip norizz it was fun while it lasted..
landonorris fun for WHO??
[finished]
hehe im working lateeee, cause I procrastinated doing assignments all day xx
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nu-suave · 1 day
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JJK MEN VYING FOR YOUR ATTENTION one, two
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feat. nanami, satoru, toji word count: 780
summary: once you’ve noticed it, you don’t know how you never picked up on it; he vies for your attention.
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With Nanami, it’s as if all his priorities rearrange the moment you step foot in the room. Whatever he’s doing he’ll set down, turning to face you. No matter what, he dedicates his entire attention to you whenever you call for it; it’s hard not to feel heard or appreciated when he’s so overt about how much he cares for what you have to say. 
Don’t even get me started about the dates, either. ‘Dates’ is really the only way to describe it, even if you two are only friends - he’ll ask you out for food, taking you to try out cafe’s he’s seen or inviting you to a movie he thought you’d enjoy (even if he considers the cinema overpriced) or accompanying you to the museum whenever there’s a new exhibit he thinks you’d like. 
He’s not the most obvious with his affections, but the second you pick up on it it’s hard to miss. He’ll send you good morning texts, check to make sure you’re eating properly, and if he doesn’t hear from you every few days he’ll always check in to make sure you’re okay. He definitely enjoys acts of service, and his actions reflect that - he’ll pick up groceries for you if he’s passing by, always offers to cook dinner, and god forbid you ever insist he doesn’t have to do these things for you. It’s not about having to do something for you, it’s about wanting to do this for you; wanting to help ease the little chores in life, wanting to be there for you in the way you are for him. 
He’s more personal in the way he wants your attention—he doesn’t care about taking it away from others, just that the time he spends with you isn’t distracted by other things. He allocates a lot of his free time to make sure he can see you, gives you all his attention whenever you do talk, and he’s privately thrilled every time you do the same.
Satoru couldn’t be more obvious. It’s a wonder you didn’t pick up on it sooner. He commands your attention the second he sees you; drapes himself over you, encroaches on your space, sits beside you so close your shoulders brush every time you move. He’ll lean his head on your shoulder or, if he’s tall enough, the top of your head as you talk to other people. A greedy part of him wants to monopolise your attention, to be a constant presence by your side. 
And he talks. If you’re with someone else, he’ll butt in with his own remarks. If you’re not, he’ll keep you engaged in conversation, making you privy to his constant stream of thoughts. He knows how to be quiet and bask in companionable silence, but when he wants your attention nothing is stopping him from doing everything he can to have it. 
If that doesn’t work, he upgrades to teasing you; he snags your attention with teasing comments, meant to fluster or annoy you - whichever will have you turning to him the fastest. He doesn’t care, as long as your eyes are on him.
Toji reverts to a middle-school boy by doing what he does best: showing off. It’s awful. He’s got a good physique and he knows he’s attractive, so when he finds himself wanting your attention he very quickly puts it to use. He stretches, rolls his shoulders, draws attention to his figure. He grins when your eyes linger on the broad width of his shoulders, the visible strength of his arms, the muscle lining his back. He likes knowing you find him attractive. 
When that doesn’t work, he turns to lazy comments. He asks things of you - get me this? or he does things for you, casually grabbing the things you’re holding so you have your hands free. He makes idle comments intended to snag your attention or, if you’re particularly easy to rile up and prone to playful arguments, he’ll make callous, teasing remarks intended to set you off or fluster you. 
He doesn’t buy you things, but he’s good at lazing around and taking advantage of events as they come by. Good thing if you’re budgeting, because he’s amazing at finding stuff to do for the lowest cost. The best part is there’s a lower chance of anyone running into the two of you - all the better for him. 
And sometimes, when he’s in a particularly attention-seeking mood, he crowds into you. He’s bigger than you, taller than you, and he’ll lean down into your space until he’s the only thing you can look at, a smug grin crawling across his features. It works every time. 
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bellasprettywords · 3 days
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A different way to say I love you (Spencer Reid x Reader)
As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person
My masterlist
Warnings: Little mentions of alcohol and overall fluff
Word count: 1,037 (ish because there are emojis)
y/n – your name
Gender-neutral reader
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The first time Spencer Reid told you he loved you, he didn’t do it with words…
It was Penelope’s birthday and the whole gang went out clubbing. You were a little more drunk than you normally would’ve liked considering you were out with your bosses, and your best friend who at the same time was the man you loved: Spencer Reid. Spencer was on y/n watch duty, considering he has always been protective of you, that he didn’t drink much, and that public settings like clubs made him on edge.
“We should get going, sweetie” you heard Spencer whisper in your ear
“I don’t wanna go yeeeet, I feel like daaancing” you said standing from the barstool and pulling Spencer’s arm into the dancefloor
“Woah woah, I’m not much of a dancer” he said nervously
“Just relax, let me lead you” you said as you placed his hands on your waist and danced wrapped around the arms of the man you loved from a distance. After a couple of hours, you were beat, so finally agreed to Spencer’s suggestion and accepted to share a cab with your best friend.
The two of you were in the back of the taxi, your head leaning on your best friend’s shoulder and you could perfectly smell the intoxication scent of wood, musk, and a little of alcohol that more than one person had spilled over Spencer at the club. You were holding hands, which wasn’t weird, as you pretty much had gotten Spence used to physical touch, and since he had become comfortable with it, the two of you were always touching some part of each other
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asked, tilting his head so he could get a better looked at you
“Yeah, I’m just a little tired” you said giving Spencer a small smile, there was something conforming about being there, next to each other, just softly caressing each other, without saying anything. At that moment, you felt Spencer squeezing your hand softly three times.
Spencer helped you up to your apartment, you were still tipsy from the night out, and he wanted to make sure you got safely to bed. Stumbling, Spencer opened the door of your apartment, and helped you in
“Let’s get you to bed, sweetie” Spencer said chucking at the sight of you walking through your furniture, trying not to stumble
“Thank you for taking such good care of me” you said, gifting Spencer a lazy smile
“Come on, we have to tuck you in” Spencer said leading you into your room, the same room he had been at least a thousand times, at the end of the day, being your best friend meant constantly coming over
“Wait, I have to get on my jammies” you said pulling away from Spencer
“Alright, I’m going to leave you for a while, so you can get changed” he said, leaving your room, closing the door behind him, and feeling his cheeks getting red and hot at the thought of you changing.
You were taking off your pants, when you stumbled and fell to the side of your bed; and with the sound of the stumble, Reid entered your room swiftly, helping you up
“Are you okay?” Spencer looked concerned, scanning your body trying to make sure you were alright after the stumble
“I’m fine, you shouldn’t worry too much, mighty Doctor Reid” you said, burying your face into Spencer’s neck and chuckling at the situation. Spencer was now sitting on your bed, with your pantless body plastered over his, at this moment, you were just inches from his lips, and you could feel his eyes, scanning your face, and body
“Come on, let me help you get changed” Spencer said gulping loudly, feeling his cheeks burning up
“Fine, you can help me, but no peaking” you said and both of you shared a laugh, as Spencer helped you get into your pjs
“I’m going to head out” Spencer said standing next to the door frame of your bedroom
“Don’t leave just yet, lay down with me for a little while” you pleaded Spencer making room on your bed for him
“I’ll stay, but only for a little while, I have to get back home” he said, taking off his shoes and getting into bed with you. You could feel Spencer’s arms around you, caressing you and making you feel safe
“Can I ask you something?” you said, turning to him so you could face him
“Of course, anything for you” he replied fixing a strand of your hair
“Why do you squeeze my hand three times? It’s not the first time I feel you doing it” you asked, and you felt Spencer’s hand reach to you
“It means: I. Love. You” Spencer said, squeezing your hand one time per word
“In that case: I. Love. You. Too” you replied, squeezing Spencer’s hand four times
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Life was great for Doctor Spencer Reid lately, his social abilities had increased, you were finally a couple after quite a while of pining over each other, and he was finally feeling like he fit in somewhere. Nonetheless, anxiety was an immense part of Spencer Reid’s life. Especially because working at the BAU, his genius mind would constantly speed, and sometimes, without even realizing it, he would spiral into horrific scenarios. Sure,
You were on a briefing. JJ and Hotch were explaining the details of the new case you’d work on, and you could tell something was off with Spencer. When cases involved children, he’d get overly anxious, and as you were holding hands, you could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. You didn’t want to give away the fact that Spencer was struggling with coping as the case was being revising, so you did the one thing you knew would make him feel better:
You squeezed his hand three times; and when you felt him squeezing your hand four times in return, you searched for Spencer’s eyes, and once you found them, you gave him a reassuring smile, just to let him know everything would be okay.
The meeting ended and Spencer and you left the room together, to prepare your bags as Hotch called wheels on 30 minutes. Spencer and you were picking your stuff from your adjacent desks when you heard him saying:
“I always hoped I would be lucky enough to find someone who I could say “I love you”, even when words are too much”
"I love you too, Spence" you said, placing a soft kiss on your boyfriend's lips before departing
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megistusdiary · 3 days
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thinking about professor!signora and TA!arle sharing you 😓
(consider this happens once you're not in her class anymore)
(suggestive themes utc - tw age gap/power imbalance)
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you're an undergraduate student in professor lohefalter's class, and arlecchino is the TA.
you get pretty close with them over the semester, and they mention to you that every summer they take a group of students to italy for research, and they'd be delighted for you to come along.
what a coincidence the trip takes place right after you're technically not a student of professor lohefalter's anymore, nor is arlechino tutoring you now.
and, even stranger is that the "group" of students has dwindled down to just you. oh, and your luggage somehow gets "lost" on the way. luckily, your generous professor has no problem buying you a whole new wardrobe of the most fashionable clothes there!
too bad most of them are so short that every time you lean over, everything is exposed :(
she reassures you these were all the hottest items back when she was your age, and promises you look perfect dolled up like this.
and don't worry! rosalyne is happy to take you to get waxed so you don't have to worry about any stray hairs in your new little bikinis. isn't she the best?
ah, and your accommodations surprise you the most. turns out it's your professor's lavish family vacation home you'll be staying in. both women watch you gush over the home, eagerly looking around and marveling at the spacious interior.
they think you're adorable, and of course, you find them both more attractive out of school clothes and in something a little more casual.
obviously, rosalyne could see the way you eyed both of them all semester, the way your thighs would clench beneath the desk where you thought she couldn't see.
arlecchino knew you would purposefully pretend not to understand things as an excuse to see her. why else would you chase after a grad student with a good few years over you? though, she would entertain the notion, knowing full well you were just an attention seeking little thing.
both of them are more than happy to play around with you. over the trip, you don't really end up doing much research. instead, you spend the next few weeks being their pretty little toy ♡
and they're not opposed to continuing to share you between themselves when you all return in the fall
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