#sigh what a full circle moment lmfao

[crybaby-bkg]

I know I've talked about bull and bear hybrid Bakugou, but has anyone ever talked about lion hybrid Bakugou???? I thought about this concept when I was still half asleep this morning but like,,,,

lion hybrid bakugou with his big ole head and even bigger mane of hair, all soft, colored like the sand you'd dig your toes into at the beach. he has a little scruff on his chin, but he never grows it out because he hates the upkeep of it.

he's always loud, growly yawns whenever you see him, his canines sharp and pointy when he opens his maw wide enough for you to peek in. he's so big and soft where it matters, lazes around all day everyday, and gets these big bursts of energy at the most random of moments. he's basically an overgrown cat basically

omg and he has this complex where he's just sooo high and mighty, like he's some king meant to be worshipped. but all you have to do is kiss his cheeks and rub a hand through his hair when he lays his big dumb head in your lap, and he's purring up a storm.

and and and lion hybrid bakugou whose tongue can feel so rough when he's feeling lazy about it, but somehow knows how to work it just right whenever he wants to lounge between your legs. gets so huffy and growly when you mumble that you can't cum anymore, just nudges your thighs a little wider with his shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against your mound. doesn't care to hear any of your complaining, because he's still eating and doesn't intend on finishing until he's ready.

omg and and lion hybrid bakugou whose favorite position is, of course, doggy style. but only because he gets to wrap your little dainty neck up in his powerful jaws and pin you there, likes how you whimper and shiver but go limp either way because you trust him with your life. he pins your arms beside your head and grunts so loud into your nape when he finally sinks his cock inside of you. he practically lays flat on top of you, just rutting his hips against your ass over and over until he knots you.

which is his favorite part because you two get to just lay there for what feel like hours, and you keep coming intermitally because he can't help but rut his hips a few more times, and hiss at the way his knot tugs at your clenching lips. sigh just lion hybrid bakugou who looks so mean and intimidating but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of you

#this got long sorry #but it had to be said!!! #I don't think ive ever seen someone do this before but if they have pls tell me #bc I wanna read more about it #I said the same for bear bkg and im so sad its not more popular to be written about a lot :( #anyway catch me in my hybrid lover era again LOL #first the whole bull farm and now this #and to think I got so tired of the idea bc so many people would come to me about it #sigh what a full circle moment lmfao #anyway I wrote this on my computer and I swear I wrote it faster here than I would have on the phone #typing on my phone gives me like motion sickness or something idk but I hate it #okay bye im gonna go write the fic that won in my last poll lol #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #bakugou treats! 🍬 #tw: knots

[one-winged-dreams]

Priority

ship: what do angels dream of (adriel x angeal) source: final fantasy vii word count: 1290

this turned out

WAY

more bittersweet than I expected lmfao

BUT IT'S ALL GOOD I PROMISE OOH YOU WANNA READ THE HUSBAND FIC, YOU WANNA READ THE HUSBAND FIC SOOO BAD

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @camellias-and-coriander @rebel-wolf13 @sunstar-of-the-north @mahitoslittlebird @goldenworldsabound @edencantstopfallininlove @adoredbyalatus @dorothys-wife @faerie-circle-ships @kylars-princess @little-miss-selfships

It had taken many times sitting here at the counter for Adriel to have become comfortable enough to express the amount of contentment he was currently showing.

It was dates at this very cafe that had started the relationship. Well, more so the walks PAST the cafe. Angeal always noticed the expressions of longing the 2nd class expressed whenever they would pass by, the wistful glances through the window.

'I was kept at home a lot,' was the answer he had been given upon asking, 'I've never been to a cafe.'

Angeal understood a childhood of poverty more than anyone, but it was the question of why he hadn't gone SINCE that vexed him.

He had earned his answer soon enough, surprising Adriel by stopping out front with a suggestion to go inside inciting a moment of tearful vulnerability.

'I shouldn't,' was what he had said.

'I don't deserve to,' was what he meant.

The coaxing had been gentle but slow-going. Angeal had been trying to teach him self-worth without forcing meaningless words of reassurance that were unable to penetrate feelings Angeal himself couldn't understand. Respect Adriel's autonomy, let him stand on his own two feet, but help him process it.

The FIRST time they had gone in, Adriel didn't even go NEAR a menu so much as look at it. Eventually, that progressed to managing to look through it, to ordering a small drink, and so on, and so on.

Angeal looked at him now, sitting on that familiar stool as Adriel smiled to himself. Utterly unaware of how Angeal had been musing about how far he'd come.

It was on his own usual stool where Angeal had realized he had fallen in love. Genuine, true love. He wondered if it were the same for Adriel.

"The Valentine's Day menu is so cute…" Adriel spoke softly, eyes scanning over the pictures of the various drinks and desserts.

Coming into awareness, Angeal gave Adriel his full attention once more. Especially that outfit the 2nd class had surprised him with.

A white dress, with a knee-length, pleated bell and an off-the-shoulder neckline. The small bow that adorned the back was a surprise, but not at all an unwelcome one. Paired with the white thigh highs and light-pink wedges, Angeal had been utterly charmed by the surprise. And topping it all off, he could smell that gentle apple blossom fragrance even from where he sat.

Their first Valentine's Day together as a married couple, and Angeal could feel himself echoing Adriel's repeating sentiment.

'I'm falling more and more in love with you each day.'

"Angeal?"

The 1st class blinked, realizing he had lost himself in his wife's presence again.

"Mh?" He arched an eyebrow, hoping he hadn't spaced out TOO long.

Adriel's pretty pink lips curved upwards into the sweetest smile Angeal had ever seen on another person.

"I asked if you had anything in mind so far."

Angeal couldn't keep his own smile from materializing, sighing as he slid Adriel's menu over in front of himself.

"Well, I'm not sure. I'll be honest, I'm not very hungry after that dinner, I'm mostly here for YOU," he chuckled good-naturedly.

When Adriel's eyes widened, for a moment, Angeal was apprehensive. Today of all days would be a horrible occasion for sliding back into bad habits.

"Oh…" was all Adriel said as he looked down at the counter, quiet. After a few beats of silence, Angeal was reassured as a shy smile was directed at him. "They have a cute looking hot chocolate, but no one makes it better than you, so that's not really an option," Adriel giggled lightly.

Relaxing, Angeal smiled, looking down at the pictures on the menu. There was indeed a, ridiculous-looking, albeit, hot chocolate with various things sprinkled on top. He had never seen the appeal of novelty food items, but if his wife liked it, who was he to complain?

"Oh, look there," Angeal made a gesturing motion with his head, placing a finger on something he was baffled that Adriel hadn't already pointed out. "The parfaits here are your favorite, why don't you get this one?" he suggested gently.

And again did Adriel go quiet.

"I… I…" he started, suddenly seeming to swallow a lump in his throat, before chuckling. "You… Really do know me so well, don't you?"

Angeal's brow furrowed as he saw teardrops on the counter, leaning over and placing a hand on Adriel's shoulder immediately.

"Everything okay?" he asked, expressing his uncharacteristic doting.

Adriel nodded almost immediately, reaching up to wipe at his tears with his wrist.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I just… Mh, it's… Stupid," he sighed.

"Adriel," Angeal began with a warning tone.

"No, really, I'm acknowledging that it's stupid. As in, I shouldn't be thinking it in the first place," Adriel clarified, looking over at his husband with teary eyes.

This was… Unexpected.

"You wanna talk about it?" Angeal prompted, giving Adriel's shoulder a tiny squeeze.

Adriel took a breath, tilting his head back.

"I'm… Scared of this getting old. All of this. The things we do… Me…" He reached up to touch Angeal's arm, but couldn't bring himself to make eye contact. "I don't ever want you to ever get tired of it. To look at this and feel… Nothing."

There was a moment of silence, Angeal unsure of what to say.

"Where… Did THIS come from?" he ultimately asked.

Adriel once again chuckled, wiping away more tears.

"Told you it was stupid."

"Adriel," came that same warning tone, but this time Angeal reached over to tilt Adriel's head over to look at him. Shiny mako eyes stared back at him, searching his expression for what Angeal would say next. And Angeal studied right back before speaking, "You've been my wife for a little over a month. The fact that this is something that's already on your mind is… Worrisome, honestly."

Adriel opened his mouth to speak, but Angeal released his face to hold up a finger.

"I'm not ever going to pretend that I know what you went through. But I DO promise that I'm going to make you realize that there is so much more out there for you. One day, we're going to be married longer than you ever had to experience that. But before then, I want you to keep something in mind," he spoke with stern conviction.

Stunned, all Adriel could do was nod his head.

"I love you. When we got married, I swore to you that you would be THE priority in my life. You've made me feel like your everything, and not only am I going to keep reminding you that you are the same to me, but I'm going to make sure you FEEL it til the day we die. Understood?"

Adriel nodded again, slower, eyes wider.

Then the dam broke, and a sniffle escaped, tears falling down his face in silver streams.

"O… Okay…! Thank you…!" he whimpered with enough of his own conviction that Angeal was satisfied.

"Good. Now, I better see you with a spoonful of chocolate and cherry in your mouth within the next 3 minutes, soldier." Angeal was unable to keep the smirk from his face as he watched Adriel wave down the bartender with equal parts daintiness, politeness, and desperation.

Eventually, Adriel slowly turned to Angeal, smiling as the last of his tears dried.

"I love you so much," he spoke softly enough that only Angeal could hear it. Not out of consideration, so much as him always having been the one more delicate with his emotions.

"And I love you, my angel… But three minutes are up."

"Wh… What does that mean?"

"You'll find out when we get home, I ASSURE you THAT."

"Ah!"

#self ship #self shipping #virus fics #what do angels dream of

[consul-valerius]

Show Me What Normal is for You

Donna’s voice trailed off, their eyes widening as they spoke. They glanced up at Valerius, seeking some sort of validation, some sort of recognization. They silently hoped he would be normal; neither upset nor happy. Just… normal.

An evening of drinking and story-weaving leads Vesuvia's most dysfunctional polycule into a discussion of the divine (which leads to discussions of the past and perhaps the present too). However, not everyone involved is as intrigued when a certain Arcana is mentioned. It is up to Valerius to encourage his lover to open up to him in a way they haven't: to tell the full truth of their murky upbringing.

Rating: T for discussions of past abuse & darker themes

WC: 7,401 split between two chapters

Characters & Relationships: Valerius, Donna, Nadia (all in their own traid lol) & Sam and Lucio

Content warnings: discussions of past childhood abuse, discussions of attempted infanticide, childhood trauma, negative self talk/self thinking (most of this appears exclusively in the second chapter), casual discussions of death, mentioned parental death, and very casual daddy dom language because Sam and Lucio are there lmao

A/N: after years.... i have finally sat down and made Donna actually talk about their childhood/upbringing lmao this is a pretty personal fic for me for a variety of reasons, and it's one that I'm fairly proud of but also deeply insecure about all the same LOL again, very dialogue heavy and introspective; please heed all content warnings!

First chapter preview undercut, with links to both chapters there as well! if darker themes aren't your jam, you can just avoid the second chapter and know there's a lot of hurt but also a lot of gay comfort lmfao

Part One // Part Two

“What do you mean by that?” Nadia asked. Gods, it was becoming grating to Sam how endearing she was behaving. 

“Well, let’s use the cards as an example. Anyone can read the cards. I know their assigned meanings, and if you paid me, I would do a card reading for you and may actually sell you on my sincerity. But that’s all it is: storytelling. I can twist any general reading to be specific toward you if you told me enough about yourself—that is why there are so many con artists when it comes to this. If you can tell a tale, you can read the cards. 

Donna, however, actually can hear the Arcane and interpret their messages. That isn't exactly standard practice, and certainly not one I can do anymore.”

“Any more?” Lucio prodded, snuggling closer. 

“I used to have… some connection to my patron, yes.” Sam paused to glance down at the hand Lucio was playing with; he seemed to be reflecting on what to say next. His shoulders straightened out before he sighed. “But she severed that tie long ago. It was my own doing, of course. The Arcana do not take kindly to those who break from their paths, and they especially do not enjoy feeling replaced by some mortal being.”

“Huh—"

“They can do that?” Nadia cut in, a sudden and uncommon anxiety now in her tone. “Break off a connection, that is.”

A bitter smile graced Sam’s features; he regarded Nadia up and down for a moment before nodding. 

“In my case, yes. Though perhaps it was for the best; breaking that tie broke off all of my connection to the arcane realms. I am much better at judging and denying earthly temptations than I would be magical.”

“Magical temptations? Like what, fairy circles or what have you?” Valerius piped up again, his focus now squarely on Donna’s hair. He thankfully did not seem aware of Sam’s giggle at his question. 

“Well, no, silly boy,” Sam sighed as Lucio snickered. “I mean much more divine intervention.”

“Do the Arcana… meddle in earthly affairs?” Nadia reclined further into her seat, getting more comfortable. 

“Obviously they do,” Sam said, mirroring her posture. “The fact that they choose humans to take under their wing says enough. But most patrons know not to directly interfere with this world; many will only tend to their flock in dreams or drug-induced stupors; whenever the veil is at its most thin or what have you.”

“And you are implying there are those who do more, are you not?”

“Well, yes.”

“Do you know which ones specifically—“

“The Devil.”

All eyes quickly snapped down to Donna. Their head was down, their shoulders hunched, and their fingers dug into their knees. Nadia tilted her head as she pushed forward slightly in her seat, readying herself to dart to the floor if need be. It seemed as if Sam was going to do the same, but he was stopped by Lucio grabbing his hand with a bruising grip.

“The Devil…?” Valerius prodded, the only one not fully aware of the tone shift. 

“The Devil represents an excess of indulgences,” Sam cut in, trying to keep his tone neutral while trying to focus his attention between Lucio and Donna. “Out of all of the arcana, it makes the most sense that He would be most interested in earthly affairs and getting entangled in them; to want more than the vast expanses of magical realms he can control is in line with what he represents. He is the one patron to meddle in the affairs of others, regardless of who their patron is, to a normally… detrimental effect.”

“Detrimental?” Nadia pushed, her own curiosity outweighing her concern momentarily. 

Sam shot Donna a concerned look, his lips sealing into a thin line. They slowly lifted their head, the pink in their hair gone and back to its normal blue. 

They only shrugged up at him, a small smile on their face. 

“Well…” Sam finally continued, pulling Lucio closer to him by the waist. “In my life, and in the type of work I used to do, I’ve seen people get… desperate . Desperate for a variety of things: money, power, friends, family, the love those people can give to you—we traversed in dark places, and it can lead to ravenous desires. I was lucky to have not just been disconnected from the magical realms but to have a mentor who knew too well the horrors that lurk there. 

Others do not. Even the faintest whispers of the divine can twist the noblest of people. And this world is often cruel and unforgiving: to be offered a lifeline, to be offered some notion of control, is sometimes far too captivating to ignore.”

“You’re speaking in riddles,” Valerius interjected, now annoyed. “Speak plainly.”

“The drunkard says to the master,” Sam finally laughed, though there was little joy there. Lucio and Donna had both, shockingly, fallen silent, neither quite looking at anything or anyone. “What I mean is that it is easy for The Devil to tempt and offer solutions . I once knew a woman—a good, strong woman, I might add—who lost her entire family to a group of highwaymen. A senseless tragedy that falls on many—she is not unique, and neither are the effects of grief. She sought out my mentor for guidance, but your fellow human can only do so much for you. She was desperate for answers and for justice, and this world marches to the beat of its own drum. It was just taking too damn long. 

So who better to come in than The Devil himself? Or what she thought was him. In exchange for something trivial, he can give you a name, a place they live, and even their weaknesses. But even more than that—what of power, what of strength? If you are to face your family’s slayers, should you not be prepared to dish out justice? She made deal after deal behind our backs, each one more complicated, each price growing steeper and steeper. By the time I or anyone had noticed a change, it was far too late. The Devil’s chains are… unbreakable. And the damage they do is far more than anyone can help.” 

A long, heavy silence filled up the space like a thick smog. Nadia averted her eyes entirely, lost in her own thoughts, unsure what question to ask next. Valerius sat up straighter, his hands still petting through Donna’s hair. He could not see their expression from where he was sitting. He could only see how Lucio glanced back to the doorway as if he was worried someone was there. Valerius couldn’t help but think the same thing. 

“But why go through that only to be… well.. ruined?” He asked without thinking. Sam only smiled sadly at him. 

“You are so lucky, my dear boy, to have never been in want of anything.” Sam patted Lucio’s hip as he spoke, soothing him absently as he regarded Valerius. “And I hope you never experience it—truly, I do. Anyone may fall victim to this—it is our nature, after all, to seek out temptations with no regard for ourselves or others. That is the essence of the card; it is neither good nor evil: The Devil just exists as a paradigm of our makeup. He cannot help himself to crave more from this world, and we, in turn, cannot help but be tempted by him. It is up to the person on what they choose to do or not do, on the vile acts they may commit, and on giving up everything to gain their single want. Had I any line of communication left, I am not so sure I would be here—“

“ Gods , this is grim!”

#bottom writes #the arcana #the arcana (game) #fan apprentice donna #consul valerius #nadia satrivana #count lucio #the duke #bottom ??? with a streak of serious non-sexy fics ??? its more likely than you think lmfao #i know smut is more fun but i got thoughts and feelings to expel first lmfao

[nirikeehan]

happy friday / dadwc!! for your Thalia Trevelyan & Vivienne, may I prompt: "Pouring unfamiliar potions into bottles of fogged glass"?

Yes, you may!! What a thought-provoking prompt. I went pretty deep researching alchemy for this one, and I rather like how that part came out.

This probably will feature in the next chapter of nightmare au/Through a Glass, Darkly. I keep saying that but this time it's true I think, lmfao. For some context, "the rot" is the colloquial term for accelerated red lyrium corruption, and Cullen has been missing for a few days, making Thalia increasingly worried about him.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 624

---

Thalia’s boots echoed on the stone floors of the Chantry chambers, falling in time to the clicking of Vivienne’s heels. Down a dark hallway, Vivienne paused outside a heavy wooden door, fishing out a key from a chain that plunged deep into her neckline. 

Once the lock clicked, Vivienne pushed open the door and beckoned Thalia to the room beyond. Whatever its previous function, it had been converted to an alchemist’s station, laden with tools of the trade. A liquid so purple it was nearly black bubbled in a giant alembic. The iridescent cerulean of distilled lyrium glowed in another bulbous flask, accompanied by beakers, bottles, and crucibles of unidentified substances. Hanging from the walls were several varieties of dried herbs. Thalia recognized elfroot, vandal aria, and rashvine at a glance. A mortar and pestle sat on one table, its contents half-ground, as if someone had put it down only moments ago. 

“Vivienne,” Thalia breathed in awe, “what is all this?” 

Vivienne clucked her tongue, gliding over to the alembic dripping the violet-black liquid into a container of spherical glass fitted with a spigot. “I take it you never reached Advanced Alchemy in your Circle studies, my dear?” 

Thalia bristled at the insult’s subtlety. “I opted for the Herbalism track in the Natural Sciences discipline.”

“Ah. A practical move,” Vivienne cast a surreptitious glance over her shoulder, “for someone of your skill level.”

“Was there anything you’d like to accomplish here, Vivienne, aside from asserting your superior intellect?” Thalia asked tartly.

She paused, waiting for a scornful remark about falling short of her full potential due to the abolition of the Circles. Thankfully, Vivienne seemed to know how to pick her battles. Without another word, she placed a small bottle of fogged glass under the spigot. Using a set of metal tongs, she opened it. The steaming liquid oozed into the bottle. 

Thalia stood by, anxious. “What exactly are you—?”

“Shh, my dear. You wouldn’t want me to spill any.” 

When she finished, Vivienne turned off the spigot and turned to her, holding out the bottle. “Drink.” 

Thalia hesitated. “What is it?”

“You said you wished to leave the village to search for the Commander. This is a preventative measure. To protect you from the rot.” 

Thalia took the bottle lightly. It was warm to the touch, though not scalding as she’d been expecting. “I thought you said something about — mages having a natural immunity?” 

“A natural resistance, we think,” Vivienne corrected gently. “That is by no means a guarantee.”

 She watched Thalia expectantly. 

“Who is ‘we’?” Thalia asked.

“Myself, a few local Chantry scholars, and my trusted guard. The formula has been tested over many months on myself first and them second. Then, we introduced it to the general townsfolk. It seems to have a deterrent effect, yes.” 

“Local Chantry scholars?” This was the first Thalia had heard of them. “Where are they now?”

“They did not survive the last bandit raid, I’m sad to report.”

“If you’ve had this potion this whole time, why didn’t you give some to Cullen when you saw him at the gate?” Thalia asked archly. 

“‘Preventative’ does not mean ‘curative,’ darling. Surely you learned that in your Herbalism lessons?”

Thalia sighed. She stared at the bottle, smoking ominously. 

Vivienne pressed her lips together. “Of course, given your time in close proximity to the Commander, one cannot be sure whether this remedy is entirely—”

Thalia put her mouth to the bottle’s rim and downed the concoction in one go. It burned thick and slow along throat; she fell into a coughing fit. When she straightened and wiped the moisture from her eyes, Vivienne stood with a look akin to admiration. “Well, you never did lack for courage, Inquisitor.”

#thalia trevelyan #vivienne #nightmare!au #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle

[vera9]

oh i will talk fandom with you because puentalay run circles in my mind all day everyday and i need to let them out but idk how.

puen has personality of biggest loser but luck of thousands gods because talay fell for him and 1) they didn't see each others faces 2) talay didn't know how rich he is 3) they have maybe not even one common interest (only writing scenarios but talay was forced to do it and I don't think he'll continue to do it in the future) and still their bond feels so natural and strong??? they really live just to do the best things which are bicker and bang and enjoy good food.

tell me what's your favourite talay and favourite puen moments from the series?:)

Hi anon!! <3

DKAJFSD THE WAY YOU JUST STUCK "BANG" IN THERE MADE ME LAUGH ADKFJ

But yeah, I absolutely adore how they drove home that appearance plays no part in their connection. I'm sure they find each other physically attractive (in both their own and the other universe) but they were fully aware Tess and Tun's bodies didn't belong to them and fell in love anyway. It was all about the person inside. That's love man 😩

Also asldkjfld oh man I'm sure @stormyoceans is far more informed than I am but I can think of a couple things they have in common! We see them flying kites, fishing(?), and riding bikes in episode 2, plus they're enjoying a movie together in episode 10. And *sighs in I-don't-drink* we all know they like their alcohol. What's awesome about these two is that you can easily imagine them trying new things together, simply because they enjoy each other's company so much 😊

OH BOY YOU ASKED FOR IT. Because I have to be extra about this, here's at least one (1) favorite PuenTalay moment of mine per episode:

Episode 1 - Talay gifting the alpaca hat (and this line in particular)

Episode 2 - drunk!Talay kiss & "Ai'Dang!" (also proud of myself for calling that line was gonna come back when this episode aired)

Episode 3 - Talay not only trying to cheer Puen up (in his own goofy way) but also giving him advice without judgment (yes I like the bath scene too but this one is more meaningful to me personally, it's such an important step in their relationship)

Episode 4 - Talay teasing a shy Puen (rare in the wild) & the cheek-pinching battle

Episode 5 - the mouthing-words thing coming full circle by way of Puen reassuring a sad and lonely Talay he won't leave him behind

Episode 6 - Talay confessing everything he loves about Puen & whatever the hell this is

Episode 7.1 - this entire fucking scene

Episode 7.2 - Puen running right over with a home-cooked meal because he heard Talay was sick + the following conversation

Episode 7.3 - and of course, the emotional climax

Episode 8 - Puen pulling one over on Talay (and immediately explaining why), Puen being a horny bastard, them being total nerds, and THE scene which has to be one of the most romantic scenes I’ve ever seen

Episode 9 - Puen being a horny bastard yet again while making this face, Puen helping Talay with his trauma (again, no judgment to be found) despite having a terrible fight with him last time they saw each other, them making up in an understanding, healthy way, and Puen realising who Talay is in their own universe

Episode 10 - this bathtub scene because I love just how frickin’ comfortable they are with each other (even though I’d never dangle a tablet above my bath what is wrong with you Puen) & them hugging in elation after finally finding the link that’ll bring them back home

Episode 11 - WHAT THE HELL ELSE (+ them falling over during the kiss because that’s an adorable touch)

Episode 12 - this one might be incomplete because I’ve only watched it once and I’m holding off on a rewatch but! them being domestic and bantery and adorable in the opening scene, Puen pulling an Enchanté, and Puen’s proposal (Lays get the fuck outta here)

So much for sticking to one scene lmfao this took a bit of time so I hope you like my picks!! 

#thank you!! <3 #my asks #long post

[duskholland]

Crash Into You || Tom Holland Smut

ice hockey!tom x figure skater!reader — smut.

summary ↠ you can’t stand the ice hockey team. they’re loud, brutish, and incredibly annoying. it’s just inconvenient that you can’t seem to stop running into their star player, an irritatingly suave man called tom, nor deny the way your pulse quickens every time he’s around...   word count ↠ 20.2k. warnings ↠ mild depictions of sport-related injury including blood and nose breakage, a lot of bad language, some jealousy, and nsfw smut material! extended smut warnings are beneath the cut, but this is 18+ !!! minors dni.   a/n ↠ it’s funny because I tell myself I don’t like sport aus, yet this is somehow one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written...? the au is kinda ~obscure~ I guess, but it checked so many of my boxes whilst writing it, and I had a great time. it’s also the longest thing I’ve ever posted?! ahh !! I hope you’ll like dutchy, and give this a go even if you’re not really into hockey <3   —↠ there are so many different people that helped me out with this!!! in addition to all the wonderful anons that sent in ideas last month, I want to extend a huge thank you to @geminiparkers @tetralea @hollandharrison @honeyspidey @stixnstripesworld and @uglypastels for each helping out in some way, whether that be through brainstorming ideas, making incredible art, or teaching me about hockey and/or skating! <3<3 also—the biggest thank you ever to the lovely sammy @t-holland2080 for not disowning me after editing this for me and seeing my basic spelling errors lmfao. ily <3 hope you all enjoy !!

extra !! @uglypastels made two beautiful pieces of fanart for tom aka dutchy — you can view these here + here !!! @softholand​ also made an absolutely incredible moodboard based off the fic, and you can view that here :’) thank you to both of them for using their amazing artistic talents on this fic + making me literally like. the happiest writer on the planet :’) 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extended smut warnings ↠ two sections of smut. this is a certified Horny Warmy™️ (thanks chlo for that category) so it’s very gentle, very wholesome. includes oral and fingering (fem-receiving) and protected MxF sex :’)

✧ *:･ﾟCrash Into You ･ﾟ:*✧

“Why are they always so noisy? How hard can it be to hit a bit of plastic?”

You laugh quietly, glancing at your friend, Yelena. She’s staring out across the rink, hands resting on the plastic barrier that lines the perimeter with irritation in her icy blue eyes. A warming blush tickles the apples of her cheeks, and it softens the expression of frustration that she wears so well.

“Seriously,” she adds. “Listen to them… It’s so… unpleasant.”

Your teeth catch your lower lip as you bring your gaze away from Yelena and instead onto the object of her anger: the hockey team.

Your eyes zip around the rink, watching as the players run through yet another drill. The team—Kingston Kites—, 20 in full, 7 currently on the ice, crash around the arena like a cyclone of a thousand moving calamitous parts. For the last few months, the practice rink at your sports centre has been closed, which has led to the pre-existing rivalry between the hockey team and your own team of figure skaters deepening. There have been arguments between your managers and theirs about which team gets priority over the exhibition rink. What’s emerged has been a bitter taste in the air. Simply put: the figure skating team dislikes the ice hockey team, and the feeling is mutual.

“I dunno,” you mutter. “I guess it means they’re working hard.”

The noises are rather distracting. You watch as the blurry figures, shrouded in the team colours of white, green, and orange, line up and take shot after shot at the small net on the ice. After each attempted shot on goal, the players have a tendency to release loud grunts and exclamations of exertion, and they echo around the empty arena. Whilst you agree with Yelena that the noises are irritating, a small part of you also admires their commitment.

“Perhaps.” Yelena steps back from the side and starts to stretch her arms. You do the same. There’s a fifteen-minute overlap in the scheduled slots on ice when the figure skating team uses half the rink to warm up as the hockey team uses the other to cool down. After the fifteen minutes play out, the Zamboni skims out the cuts in the rink, and the hockey team finally leaves you alone. It’s not ideal to share the rink, but every second you can spend practising helps. “I can’t stand them.”

You smile softly, slowly rotating your right arm as you warm up the muscles. “I know,” you agree. “You always complain about them.”

She scowls, eyes glistening with fierce irritation. “Because they’re annoying. So dramatic and messy.”

“Mmm, well, I don’t think they’re very fond of us either,” you respond. You bend over, slowly rubbing your fingers over the bandage you have wrapped around your right ankle. “Did you hear about Jenna and Lou in the gym last week?”

“No. What happened?”

You sit down on the cool floor of the arena, thankful for the many layers you’re wearing. As you slowly start to massage your ankle, you glance up at your friend.

“They got interrupted by a couple of the guys. Uh, Osterfield and Barrett? They wanted to do a weights competition or something.”

Yelena scoffs. “Losers.”

You smirk. “They won, though. Lou and Jen. Apparently, the guys stormed out. Couldn’t take getting beaten by a couple of skaters.”

Your friend cackles then offers you a hand up. You grunt as you stand and steady yourself, glancing down at your skates and checking the laces. A loud buzzer goes off, and you hear a few yells of disgruntlement come off the ice as the players realise it’s the end of their solo practice and the start of your turn on the rink too.

“Can’t wait to get out there,” Yelena murmurs, eyes sparkling. You nod in agreement and crack your knuckles in anticipation.

Together, you walk over to the small gate in the side of the rink, joining the line with the rest of your team. Ten of you make up the competitive figure skating team, and all of you wear varying articles of black, thermal clothing. You’re in a pair of leggings, a long-sleeved thermal shirt, and a loose burgundy t-shirt, drifting over the top. The cold doesn’t bother you as much as it used to, but that’s only through the years you’ve spent gliding around at sub-zero temperatures.

You sigh happily as you inhale a breath of the frozen air that hangs crispy above the rink. You step onto the ice, closing your eyes as you skate forwards, your body supported effortlessly by the skates you wear so well.

There’s a line of bright red cones set out across the middle of the ice, sectioning off the hockey players from the rest of you. You smile to yourself as you risk a glance across the rink and take stock of a few of the players, huddled together, grunting and exchanging low words of irritation. They look very funny, wearing various layers of thick padding and helmets—less formal than they’d be at a match, but still dressed up enough to mean business. You feel them staring at you, glaring and bemoaning the fact they have to share the rink, but you let it brush off you like water.

“Y/N! Show me your cannonball. Weren’t you working on it?” Yelena’s back, skimming to rest beside you, plaited blonde hair hanging in two bunches either side of her face. You nod, pushing off and checking the ice is clear ahead of you before skating into a space.

Nothing beats the rush of adrenaline that comes with skating. You think that you’re addicted to it now. The charge of the nervous build-up, followed by the relief of the payoff never gets old. Your fears of failure get swept away the moment you sink into the ultra-focused headspace of an athlete, and the buzz of reward you get every time you land a move perfectly trumps the blood, sweat and tears that such an unforgiving sport has taken from you. You wouldn’t be able to quit skating, even if you wanted to.

A cannonball sit spin is one of the hardest spins in your repertoire, and the element that has been giving you the most grief in your show routine. This season, you’re competing in the national circuit for solo ice dance. It’s not your first time taking on the competition—in fact, consistently over the last few years, you’ve been ranking higher each time you compete. Last year you finished third, and so this year, your eyes are fixed very firmly on the prize. You know securing first place in the competition will attract the Olympic scouts’ attention, and that’s your greatest dream.

Moving quickly, you skate in a brief semi-circle to build momentum before getting low, resting on one leg as you stretch the other out in front of you. Your hands curve around the ankle of your extended leg, and you use the energy to carry you into a spin, the fresh air wafting off the ice and cooling your cheeks. It carries out for a few seconds, then you have to concentrate as you exit the manoeuvre, brows creasing as you continue to turn. You end in a standing spin, arms held out as you slowly bring them back into your sides and end elegantly with a little bow.

Yelena claps, cheering from across the ice. “Fuck, Y/N, that looks perfect now,” she calls out. “Wouldn’t ever be able to tell that it was causing you trouble— oh, look out!”

Your eyes are only just beginning to widen in response to her concern when you feel a very strong figure slam into you, hurtling at top speed and taking you both down onto the ice. You don’t need to see anything beyond a flash of white, orange and green to know that it’s a fucking hockey player, and the ache of getting thrown to the hard ground is quickly overcome by the anger that replaces everything else.

“Oh, shit,” you hear a gruff voice say.

You groan as you try to sit up, opening your eyes just to see that the player is crumpled on top of you. Your chest feels heavy from where he’s laying sprawled over you, and you glance down to look at his face, a scowl holding tight over your features.

Despite the helmet and the visor sticking over the top of his face, you’re able to make out a few details of the man. He seems to be around your age, his skin pale but flushed warm from the cold and such a vigorous practice. The brown depths of his eyes swell with concern and guilt, pairing nicely with the regretful smile that pangs across his thin pink lips. You get a peek at his brown hair sticking out from beneath his helmet, and can’t quite stop your eyes from catching on the hard line of his impressive jaw.

“You idiot,” you mutter, shaking off the daze that comes with admiring such a handsome stranger. “Did you even look where you were going before deciding you were going to try and kill me?”

The man’s eyebrows shoot up, his expression of concern burning into irritation as he scowls at you.

“Fucking hell,” he replies. His accent twangs prominently, cool and unyielding. “It was an accident, darling.”

You grunt, rapidly scooting back across the ice the moment he’s clambered off you. He sits across from you, brushing at the pads on his knees as he stares at you remorsefully. You can’t tell if he’s pouting at you or the shards of ice messing up his knees.

“An accident is brushing into someone, not slamming them onto the ice,” you mutter. Bitterness sweeps into your voice. “Twat.”

“Alright, alright.” He throws his hands into the air and leans closer. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

You draw your lips into a tight-lipped frown and look away, ignoring him as you try to stand, only to end up wincing as pain shoots up your bad ankle. “Fuck,” you whisper, your irritation growing stronger as you try to rotate your foot and feel the pain thicken.

Opposite you, the man clambers to his feet, getting his bearings on his skates before begrudgingly sliding up you. Your eyes take in his figure, running the lines of his stocky form. It’s always hard to tell what the guys look like beneath the padding and the helmets, but he doesn’t look as tall as you’d expected when he was laying on top of you. He’s smaller than the rest of them, but you have a suspicion he can probably move remarkably fast. How else would he have been able to take you out so easily?

He offers you a gloved hand, staring at you through cold eyes. “C’mon,” he urges, when you do nothing but stare at his palm. “Let me help you up. It’s the least I can do.”

You eye him suspiciously, but you know you won’t be able to get up without some assistance. A brief glance at your team around you suggests they’re all watching your exchange, intrigued. So, you swallow your pride, grit your teeth, and slip your hand into his glove, digging your skates into the ice as he helps you back to your feet. A short hiss of pain falls through your lips as your ankle throbs. When your leg threatens to buckle, the man moves in closer and grabs at your waist.

“Woah!” he exclaims, holding you up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, trying to steady yourself, “no thanks to you.”

You hear him release an exasperated sigh, and he lets you shake yourself free, but his hand drifts down to pull at your arm and hold you back when you try to skate off.

“What do you want?” you snap, tension in your voice. Beneath the visor, you can make out the guilt dusting his face, but you’re too focused on your recurring injury to pay it much mind.

“I’m sorry,” he tries. “I am.”

You pull your arm free again, and you hear a few hoots drift over from the other side of the rink. The word Dutchy rises louder, and you watch his expression twitch with irritation.

“Whatever,” you reply. You skate backwards, moving away from him, only relaxing when you feel one of your friends link her arm with yours. “Just forget about it.”

The hockey player looks as though he wants to argue with you, but when you harden your glare, he seems to let it go. He shoots you a very tight-lipped smile, mouth puffing a little with air, and then he picks up the discarded hockey stick and skates back to the other side of the rink. Your eyes briefly flutter over the bright text of Holland before he disappears, being enveloped back into the fold of raucous players as you sink into your friend’s side.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, touch far gentler than his had been.

You grimace, looking down at your ankle. “Yeah,” you reply, frowning sourly. Your eyes lift up across the rink, and you let yourself scowl. “Just pissed off.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Following the incident, and an incredibly bad skating practise, you find yourself reprimanded by your coach and put on bed rest for a few days so you can rest your ankle. It’s hard not to blame the distracted hockey player, but you know you probably had it coming. You’ve been walking the knife’s edge for several weeks with your injury, and as much as you hate to admit it, the time off is necessary.

The moment you’re allowed back on the ice, you’re there in a heartbeat. The training arena also operates as a commercial venue, and there are different slots available during the day for the general public to skate. After receiving the thumbs up from the team physiotherapist, you immediately turn up to one of the open slots available to the public, hoping to brush up on a few things before you rejoin your team in the morning.

For the first ten minutes of your practice, things go well. Your ankle is better for a few days off, and you’re able to sink back into your routine and get back to focusing on the gnarly parts that always throw you in a loop. It isn't too busy either, so there’s room to skate around and feel the air running over your face. It’s easy to get lost in it, your chest full of a lightness you’d spent the last few days bed-bound and dreaming of.

You take a break to drink some water after a while, leaning up against the barrier at the edge of the rink and bending over it to rummage through your bag. When you feel a presence behind you, you stand up, glancing back expecting to see a stranger, and feeling your eyes widen as instead, you recognise the man.

He looks very different without the shoulder pads and the rest of his ridiculous costume, but it’s him: Holland, the hockey player responsible for your skating ban. Still tall, and perched on hockey skates, but more relaxed. Like you, he’s wrapped up warmly, with a tight black thermal shirt curled around his arms, and another t-shirt resting over the top. His brown hair flies freely, bouncy and slightly curled, and his eyes are soft.

“Hi,” he says, biting at his thin lower lip. “Do you remember me?”

You frown as you skate to be in front of him, nodding slowly. “The guy that smashed me into the ice the other day?” you tease, voice cool. “Of course. How could I ever forget?”

You watch as his face darkens in shade, his eyes flickering down to your leg. “I’m, uh, Tom,” he leads with. “I saw you skating and I just wanted to see how you were doing… I haven’t seen you at practice in a few days, and I was, uh… sort of worried I’d seriously hurt you.”

Tom looks at you like he’s scared of you, and you have to bite back a smile as you wonder if you were too harsh on him the other day.

“Hmm.” You cross your arms over your chest and inspect him, gaze following how pronounced his biceps look, pushing up against his shirt. “Well, I was benched for a week.”

He curses softly, accented voice sounding out of place speaking such vulgarity.

“I’m sorry,” Tom says. He looks as though he means it, too. Shoulders sagged, eyes concerned, lower lip bitten red. “I promise, love, it wasn’t intentional. If I could go back in time and stop myself from behaving like such an inconsiderate twat, I would.”

You giggle slightly, unable to disguise the glee that comes with hearing him call himself a twat. You watch as his eyebrows arch up, confusion replacing his sincerity as he slowly crosses his arms over his chest. You’re still irritated by the situation, but you’re no longer incensed. It’s hard to harbour a grudge whilst he’s pouting so acutely.

“Well, Tom, I forgive you,” you say, voice lighter. He releases a deep breath, and you nod to affirm your point. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” Instinctively, you offer him a hand and find a shiver rolling down your back as his warm palm presses up against yours. Tom’s grip is firm and grounding, and his skin is a lot softer than you’d expected.

“Y/N is a nice name,” he says, voice perkier. His eyes seem more alive, and you don’t miss the way he takes in your form with an inquisitive gaze.

Your lips twist into a smirk. “I’ve already forgiven you, you can turn off the charm now.”

Tom shrugs, eyes glinting cheekily. “It’s not charm, darling,” he returns. “This is just who I am.” It seems to be true, too. He’s a lot bolder now the air between you has cleared, no longer looking like he wants to melt through the ice.

You snort loudly and feel your heart quicken when he smiles. “Well, Tom, what are you doing here?” You quirk an eyebrow. “Don’t you guys practice in the mornings?”

“Yeah,” Tom agrees. He breaks off as he looks over his shoulder and waves a hand at the near-deserted ice. “Coach said I need to work on my sprints, though, and it’s a lot easier to do that without the rest of the team hanging around.”

“Makes sense,” you say, deviously deciding you want to see how far you can push him. “You hockey guys are always so slow on the ice.”

Tom’s jaw drops, and you watch as he straightens up and stands a little taller. He meets the challenge directly, and you can’t deny it—it’s attractive. The way he squares his jaw, flares his nostrils and hardens his gaze is hot.

“Fuck you,” he says, voice light, “I’m definitely faster than you.”

You smirk. “As if,” you quip. You raise a hand, twirling a finger around in the lazy direction of the centre of the rink. “Show me what you’ve got. I might give you some pointers if I’m feeling nice.”

Tom releases a very loud laugh, the skin by his eyes crinkling into fine lines. “You’re hilarious, love,” he responds. “Like a figure skater is going to be able to teach me anything of importance.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and you cross your arms as you stand a little straighter. “That’s bold talk from someone who doesn’t look where he’s going,” you tease. You run a hand through your hair, eyeing him closely. “I could easily beat you in any skating-related activity, and I wouldn’t even break a sweat.”

Tom tilts his head to the side, seeming to feed into the idea of a challenge just as much as you. There’s something about him that fires you up the right way—a shared competitiveness that burns as brightly in you as it clearly does in him. It overpowers everything else, taking over, enticing you into letting go of any residual resentment and embracing the chance to beat him.

“How about we put your bragging to the test, darling?” he suggests, tongue tracing his lower lip. His eyes flutter around the curves of your mouth. “A few races, just to see who’s really better.”

You don’t hesitate to nod. “Sure, Tom,” you agree. “But don’t be too pissy when I beat you.”

There’s something endearingly irritating about how confident he is as he smirks at you and leans forward to briefly rest a hand on your shoulder. “Same to you, Y/N,” he responds. “I know it’s annoying to lose.”

You just shake your head, scoffing as you push away from him and move down to the end of the rink. He follows you, coming to a stop on his chunky skates beside you.

“First one to the other side wins,” you announce, reaching back to rest a hand on the barrier. You tilt your head and stare at him until he does the same. “Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

“3, 2, 1, go!”

It’s slightly ridiculous how badly you want to beat him, but there’s just something so infuriating about Tom. Your competitiveness burns in your chest, makes your blood boil and your hands clench into fists, and you find your eyes zeroing in on the opposite side of the rink as tunnel-vision encroaches. You block him and everything else out, your desire to win taking over as you swiftly launch across the ice, skates clipping the surface with metallic sounds as you sprint it. You don’t break—you don’t give up, slow down, or even turn back until you’re slamming into the barrier at the other side, turning around just in time to see Tom come in behind you, lagging about a second behind.

“Shit,” Tom mutters, grimacing.

You smirk. “Told you I’d beat you.”

Tom pulls a sour face, and it makes you giggle. “Best of three?” he offers. “C’mon, Y/N.” His elbow nudges against your side. “I’m still warming up.”

“Alright,” you agree. “But for the record, I still won.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tom mutters, shooting you a sly smile. “Just you wait.”

You win best of three skating forwards, but Tom manages to snag a victory when it comes to speed skating backwards. You can’t take the smirk of triumph on his face, so you offer up a third competition, yearning to prove yourself.

“Can you do an axel?” you ask. Your eyes drift down to his heavy hockey skates. “Or are your boots too chunky and annoying?”

Tom’s face twitches with doubt, but he’s quick to smooth it away. “Fuck yeah,” he states boldly. “I can do anything you can do.” If he doubts the truth of his words, he doesn’t let it show. “Just, uh… Show me how you do it first.”

You have the suspicion he can’t remember what an axel is, so you decide to oblige him.

“Alright,” you agree, boosting away from him. His eyes follow you, and their presence on your figure brings a hidden smile to your face. “Watch this.”

You perform the trick easily. An axel is the simplest of all the jumps, and it gives you no bother to glide forwards, leap into the air, do a swift, neat turn, then land on your back foot gracefully. You could probably do it with your eyes closed.

“There!” you announce, smile on your face.

Tom gulps nervously.

“Easy,” he says, voice slightly quieter. You cross your arms and watch, incredibly amused, to see how far he’ll take his act before giving up. Tom skates forward, confident in his movements, eyes focused, eyebrows furrowed. He takes his time, failing to do anything beyond skating in a straight line before he suddenly, jerkily, attempts the trick.

Time moves in slow motion. It’s with a combination of glee and horror that you watch him fail spectacularly, doing a rotation of approximately 180 degrees before slipping on the return to the rink and landing flat on the ice, groaning loudly. The few of the people sharing the rink with you look around, concerned, and you’re quick to skate over to him, biting your lip guiltily.

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of him. Tom’s still on the ice, arms crossed, glaring angrily at his skates. “I admire you for trying.”

His attention shifts up to you, and his scowl intensifies. “Whatever,” he mumbles. There’s an element of amusement in his eyes, and he takes your hand when you extend it out towards him. Tom’s heavy, but he springs up easily, his fingers tangled in yours and jerking you a little closer. “That was way harder than it looked.”

You hum, and then gulp as he drops your hand. He’s near to you, breath crystallising into a cloud of icy fog in front of you. Your eyes glide over the spray of brown freckles on his face before skimming down the curved line of his nose until you can admire his mouth.

“Well, it is a sport,” you say, voice a little tight. You clear your throat, shaking yourself from your funk as you realise you’re just staring at his lips. “Just like… Like hockey is a sport. I know we make fun of it, but I doubt me or anyone else on the team could play like you guys do.”

Tom seems to enjoy the praise, standing with a little more confidence as you finish speaking. He nods, then brings two slender fingers up to nimbly scratch at his chin.

“Have you ever tried it?” he asks.

“Not properly.”

Tom smirks. “Well, we need to change that. Go down the end, I’ll grab a net.”

You don’t know how he manages to convince the supervisors of the free skate to let the two of you set up an attack zone in the end segment of the rink, but you don’t question it. The sight of Tom reappearing, haphazardly balancing a net, a hockey stick, and a puck in his arms makes you smile, and you briefly think about how easy it's been for your resentment to melt away. There’s something about him that’s incredibly warm, and you don’t dispute the realisation that he’d probably make a good friend.

“Right,” Tom announces. He’s set up the net and shown you how to hold the plastic stick. Now, both of you are staring at the puck, black and stark against the scratched white ice. “Just hit it.”

You glance up at him, sceptical. “Surely there’s more to it than that.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t know what I’m working with until I see you take a hit at it, darling.”

You nod. The stick feels unfamiliar between your hands, but you’re determined to make a better show of it than Tom when he tried to do the axel. After staring at the small open area of the net, you grit your teeth and hit it, watching with widening eyes as the puck soars wide out to the left.

Tom cackles.

“Well… That was an attempt,” he says. His grin doesn’t falter at all, even when you turn around to glare at him.

“Teach me, then,” you quip, scrunching up your nose playfully.

Tom hums, and you watch as he briefly skates away after the puck. You can’t stop yourself from staring at him as he bends over, the bottom of his shirt briefly riding up and exposing the printed band of his boxers. The words Calvin Klein burn into the back of your eyes, still lingering there as he turns and skates back to you. You blink rapidly, shame burning at your face as you try to look more like you’re focused, and less like you can’t stop your eyes from gravitating towards his figure.

He drops the puck back on the ice, just in front of your stick. “Your angle was wrong,” Tom says. “Show me your hands again.” When you do as instructed, he frowns and shakes his head. “No, it’s… It’s more like, your top hand higher, and the lower more angled… Uh… No, no, no. Can I just touch you?”

“Okay,” you squeak, standing a little straighter.

Tom skates forward, resting behind you. He doesn’t hesitate to carefully wrap his arms around you from behind, slender fingers curling over your hands and repositioning them on the stick. You feel like you’ve been electrified—eyes wide, skin responding to his touch. His breath, warm and minty, wafts across the side of your face, and you realise you’re holding your breath.

“Yeah...just like that,” he coos, voice a little softer. He squeezes your hands before letting them go. “Give it another go.”

You swallow back your nerves as you nod, waiting until Tom’s drifted back to hit the puck. You can’t stop yourself from smiling when it goes sailing into the back of the net, and Tom lets out a loud hoot.

“Fuck yeah!” he exclaims, laughing gleefully. “Look at that!”

You glance back at him, enjoying the expression of pride that finds his features. “Pretty good, right?” you say, playing it cool.

“Spectacular, darling.” Tom’s nodding, face alight. “Let’s step it up a notch.”

He brings you through a few drills, and you find yourself enjoying the game despite your early blunder. Before you know it, there’s the sound of a buzzer ringing, signalling that there are five minutes left of your session together. Tom rises to the challenge, announcing that he wants to end by watching you skate at the goal and shoot a point whilst moving. You fail at your first three attempts, unable to coordinate moving the stick, the puck and yourself without something going askew.

“Show me again,” you whine, growing conscious of the timer ticking down.

Tom skates closer, gliding easily with his hands behind his back. His thin lips wear his smirk well.

“Just visualise it, darling,” he says. “Believe in yourself, and you’ll do it.” He pauses, eyes skimming over you. “I believe in you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Follow my line in.”

Tom skates backwards, beckoning you forwards with outstretched hands and a smile like you’re a toddler he’s teaching to walk. He leads your attack, mapping out your path before shifting out of the way just in time for you to successfully skate and hit the puck into the back of the net. His expression clears into relief, but as you start to celebrate, it’s quick to fall flat. You watch, eyes widening, as Tom gets distracted by you and drifts backwards into the goal, skates getting tangled in the netting. You lunge forward to try and catch him, only to make the situation a thousand times worse as you crash into him, grabbing at his shirt just as he manages to steady himself.

It feels like a cruel trick of fate. A repetition of the past, just, instead of Tom tackling you to the ground, it’s you that manages to slam him back onto the ice. It’s more comfortable this time around, though. For you. Tom’s chest is a lot warmer and softer than the ice.

“Fuck,” Tom groans. His face twists into an aching expression, then his eyes slowly blink open. As you make contact with his brown orbs, you’re surprised to see amusement shift across them. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”

You snort, taking stock of how muscly his front feels. You’re sprawled out completely over him, face suspended above his, Tom’s palms holding your waist. It’s intimate, especially when he reaches up with one hand and pushes your hair from your face so he can peer at you better. You can’t stop your eyes from going straight to his lips.

“S-sorry,” you stammer, voice breathless. You admire the way his hair is spread out around his head, bold against the ice like a halo. “I don’t know what happened.”

“‘S okay.” Tom’s quieter too. His gaze circles quickly between your eyes and your mouth. There’s something cockier about him, and you know the way you’re clinging to the front of his shirt has something to do with it. “I think you fell for me. Again.”

He’s leaning in. You start to do it, too, even go as far as to let your eyes drift close. He gets so close that you can almost feel the warm outline of his lips, brushing against yours, but then there’s the loud noise of a buzzer vibrating through the air. As the sound dies, it serves to signal the end of such a tender moment, as well as the end of the session.

You startle and push off him as you shoot him an apologetic grin.

“Sorry,” you say. You’re shaking a little, but you hope he puts it down to shock. You manage to clamber up and offer him your hands.

Tom accepts your help, and he groans as you help him up.

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he says, pausing to shake out his legs and slide forward. He swings your palms through the air, squeezing at your fingers as he very gently twirls you beneath his arm, then moves in nearer. “Accidents happen. I’m not surprised you wanted to be on top of me.”

All you can do is laugh and hope Tom can’t tell how he makes the base thrumming of your heart pick up.

“As if,” you return. You glance down at your intertwined fingers and feel your heart pang. “A hockey player? I could never.”

Tom just smiles, then squeezes your hands before letting them slip from his grasp. “Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs. He nudges your shoulder then shifts away, off in the direction of the net. “You know there’s no one that could give you as good a time as me.” He’s joking—it’s obvious in the cadence of his voice, the smile on his face. But why does it feel so layered?

“Ha ha,” you respond, skating over to him. When you notice him struggling, you dart forward and grab the net, slinging it over a shoulder. You glance back, arching an eyebrow as you decide to test the water. “I have had fun, though,” you add. “With you.”

Tom tilts his head to the side, ruffling up his hair with a hand. His smile lights up his entire face.

“Me too.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Almost a week passes, and though you don’t see Tom again, he’s certainly on your mind. You find yourself thinking about him all too much, considering he’s a hockey player, and it goes against the team ethos you’ve been surrounded by.

One day, after practice, you end up sitting on a bench outside the rink, waiting on Yelena as she finishes talking with one of your coaches. Bored and curious, you pull out your phone and decide to open Instagram. All around the arena are banners advertising the hockey team’s social media, and you find yourself drawn to the official account with a few easy taps. You start to scroll through the feed, eager eyes skimming over every face until you find the one you’re looking for.

It’s Tom, from last season, clutching the victory trophy in his hands as he’s held on his team’s shoulders. His face is animated, pulled wide in a large grin as he stares at the camera, the skin by his eyes pulled into smile lines. He’s tagged in it, so, curious, you click through and look at his profile. Unsurprisingly, it’s set to public, and you’re careful as you scroll down.

His photos are exactly what you’d expect—a collection of team photos, action shots, and gym selfies. Typical hockey player, but the longer you spend staring at one of his selfies, the cuter he seems to get. Trying to shake yourself out of the daze, you scroll back up, thumb absently wandering over to his Following list. Your eyes widen as you see your profile, at the very top of the accounts.

Tom follows you…?

Brows furrowing, you flip onto your own account, double-checking this new fact by typing out his username in your followers tab. He pops up, at the top, and you sit back, blinking.

Interesting.

After taking a brief moment to compose yourself, you go back to his profile and follow him. You start to flick through his story from the day. You get about halfway through when a shadow casts over your figure. You glance up, expecting to see Yelena, only to startle when it’s Tom.

“Hi,” he offers, raising a hand in greeting. You blink a few times in quick succession, glancing between your phone which shows a mirror selfie from him shirtless in the gym to where he’s now standing in front of you, burgundy hoodie on, flask in hand. You immediately turn your phone off.

“Oh, u-uh, hi,” you say, voice suddenly thick. He tilts his head to the side, an amused smile finding his lips as he sees you flustered. “What… What are you doing here?”

“I was in the gym,” he says, telling you information you already know. “Saw you down here on my way out, thought I’d say hi.” He rocks back on his feet, looking a little nervous. “I, uh… Keep thinking about last week. On the ice.”

“Oh?” Tom nods. He hesitates, and you realise he’s just awkwardly standing in front of you. “Wait,” you say, shuffling up the bench. “Sit.”

He perches on the wooden slats beside you, offering you his flask. “It’s hot chocolate,” he says, cheeks blushing slightly.

“After the gym?” you return, arching a brow.

Tom smiles. “Fuck yeah,” he says, pressing the flask into your hand. “It’s good, trust me. And, uh, I don’t have any germs or anything. I think.”

You snort, clicking the top open as you look at him over the brim. “Well, I wouldn’t mind catching anything from you,” you say, speaking before you have time to process the words.

Tom’s eyebrows soar up his forehead, a short chuckle leaving his lips as you hide your embarrassment behind the metal flask. The burn of revealing such a humiliating thought is quickly soothed away as you taste the deliciously sweet liquid.

“Well?” Tom coaxes, stretching an arm up as he scratches the back of his neck. His hoodie smells of fresh fabric conditioner. “Good, eh?”

Begrudgingly, you nod. “Yeah,” you say, shooting him a soft smile. Trying to move on the conversation, you return to what he’d said before sitting down. “Uh, what was that you said? About last week?”

Tom nods, seeming a little less apprehensive now to speak to you after your enthusiastic praise. “I was just thinking about how fun it was to skate around with you. It sort of made me regret not getting your number, darling.”

Your lips twitch slightly. “You can have my number if you want, Tom,” you say, speaking softly. His eyes are so pretty up close. “And I’d be down doing it again. I’m free every Wednesday afternoon.”

He nods his head, curls bouncing from the enthusiasm. You pass him back the flask, carefully angling your phone away from him as you unlock it, quickly exit from Instagram, then open up contacts. You watch him input his number, tongue between his lips as his brows furrow. He curses softly as he messes up the numbers and has to backspace a few times, and you have to focus hard on not letting your face betray how cute you find the whole interaction.

He’s cute.

“There you go,” Tom says, passing your phone back. He stands from the bench, tilting the flask towards you. “I’ve gotta go,” he adds. “Carpool. But, uh… See you tomorrow?”

You nod, biting back your smile. “Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds good.”

Before he leaves, Tom darts down to gently kiss your cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment before he springs back and walks away, waving as he goes. As his broad smile fades from sight, you find your hand drifting up, going to your cheek and touching the spot which tingles with the remnants of his kiss.

Swallowing back your nerves, you return your attention to your phone. You open your contact, clicking on Tom and opening up a text message. After a brief moment of contemplation, you decide to play it safe.

Y/N: hey x

A moment later, the notification changes from delivered to read, and the typing bubbles pop up. You shift on the bench, holding your breath.

Tom: hi xx

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

A few weeks pass, and it becomes a habit.

Despite already spending most of your days on the ice, you carve out another hour every Wednesday afternoon and dedicate it to Tom. Over time, he teaches you hockey, and you continue to give him pointers on his skating. After a while, you even manage to coach him through a jump. It’s easy with him. There are no expectations, no routines you need to nail. All you have to focus on when you’re with Tom is having fun—and also trying not to fall too deeply into the reserves of his deep brown eyes. Tom feels like a breath of fresh air—if the air also happens to be loaded full of charm, cheek, and wear an irresistible smile.

Halfway through the hockey league, you end up at the arena on a Saturday night, staying late with the rest of the figure skating team. Your competitive season begins in two weeks, so the team is in for outfit fittings, everyone split across the changing rooms at the arena. You’re competing solo this year, which grants you the rare position of having the freedom to design your dress—a privilege you’ve had a lot of fun with.

“It’s beautiful,” you gasp. “I can’t believe how nice it looks.”

You’re staring at a clothes mannequin, wearing the costume you’d spent hours conceptualising with the team’s designers. It’s a shade of red that perfectly compliments your skin, accented with silver and gold detailing in a beautiful pattern over the front. Gems glimmer and sparkle, and you can’t stop your eyes from tearing up as you look at an object of such beauty.

“Do you like it?” Standing beside the masterpiece, eyes nervous, is Jazzy, the lead costume designer. When you clasp your hands together and nod, she releases a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness,” she murmurs. “Let’s get you in it and start marking out the alterations.”

You feel a little bit like a doll, standing on a raised platform as you pull on your costume, but it’s worth the reward of seeing yourself in the dress. After slipping into it, you pull your hair back and pin it sloppily, so you’re able to admire the ensemble fully. You’re in tights, matched to your skin tone, and the tops of your thighs are covered by the red material. It floats down, and you run your fingertips over the hem of the velvety skirt as a smile finds your lips.

“Stunning,” Jazzy compliments. She passes you a tube of lipstick. “Try that one.”

You carefully smooth the shade over your lips, noting with enjoyment how the hue matches the bodice of the dress. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you release a breath. When you have your face painted and your hair done properly, you’ll look the part, and clinging to the image of what you’ll look like on competition days is enough to steady some of the nerves. Even if you mess up your routine, you’ll do it looking like you deserve to be there.

“I love it,” you say, releasing a breath. You reach up and pull your hair free, running a hand through it and ruffling it, so it sits normally. You do a small spin, smiling as the material drifts around the top of your legs. “You did an incredible job. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for wearing it so well,” she returns, winking. “Let’s get a few more opinions.”

It isn’t long before the changing room is swarmed with the rest of your team, each one of them wearing garments in various stages of completion. The men are here too—four of them, combining with the five other women and yourself, bringing your team up to an even ten. Each season, your team puts forward various combinations of skaters for the duet, team, and solo events. You’re one of the only skaters competing solo this year—a decision your coach had made as she decided she wants no distractions for you as you try to reach Olympic level. The only other member of your team in a similar position is Tai, your lean, incredibly friendly male counterpart.

Tai saunters across the room, running a hand through his thick black hair. His outfit is deep purple and shimmery, and you wiggle your eyebrows as he does a little spin.

“Pretty sick, right?” he says, shaking a sleeve at you. “I look like Dionysus.”

“So cool,” you compliment. You do a small spin too, smiling widely. “What do you think?”

“Stunning,” Tai returns. He nods to affirm his point. “You’re going to kill it, Y/N. This is your year.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so,” you reply. You take a tight breath. “I really hope so.”

Before the conversation can continue, there’s the slamming of a door opening, followed by an approaching wall of noise—men, talking loudly, a few of them hollering. You raise an eyebrow towards Tai, who scowls.

“Saturday night,” he says. “The team are in the playoffs.”

“Wait, is it a home game?”

Tai nods. “Starts in twenty,” he says. His frown intensifies. “They’re so loud. Idiots.”

You watch from your position on the dressing podium as flashes of white, green and orange pass by the open door. It’s the hockey team, alongside their coaches and their managers. They walk determinedly in the direction of the hockey changing room where you presume they’re going for a pre-game pep talk. You can’t stop yourself from scanning the crowds, looking for Tom. When you fail to seek him out, you feel your heart pang sadly in your chest.

“Y/N?” Tai’s looking at you, amused. “Are you okay?”

You swallow, then nod. “Yeah,” you mutter. “Just tired.”

He hums, eyes wide and sympathetic. “Me too. It’s been a busy week, hasn’t it?”

It’s easy to agree. At this point in the season, with so few weeks to go before the competition begins, you’re at the rink every day.

“Absolutely.”

You stifle a yawn. Your eyes flutter back across the changing room, and you see your tired sentiments seem to be shared by the rest of the team. As they slowly start to leave the room, it grows quieter. Tai drifts away, lingering in the corner and talking with Jazzy and Yelena. It isn’t long until you’re the only four people remaining. You spend a few moments taking photos of your fit in the mirror, trying to get in all the angles so you can send them to your family and fuel their excitement about the season. Your actions are interrupted only when there’s a tender knock on the door, and you glance up towards the entrance to see a bulky, padded figure. Tom.

“Uh, hello? The hockey room is across the corridor,” Yelena says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tom isn’t in his helmet, but he is perched tall on his skates. You’re able to watch as his face twitches with annoyance. He offers a tight smile to Yelena before glancing straight at you, raising a teasing brow.

Chest feeling tight, you step forward, padding quietly towards the door. Your friends are all looking at you, but you’re more preoccupied with Tom and the way his eyes seem to glint as they take you in your form. There’s a small swagger to your step as you watch him shift from leg to leg, his cheeks warm and red, eyes full of appreciation as they stick on the curves of your hips, chest, and then your lips. Your suit is tight, and it brings you enjoyment to watch him admire you. He clears his throat as you fall to a stop in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, voice quiet, perplexed. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a game?”

Tom nods. “Yeah,” he says. His tone is darker, and it catches slightly. “I, uh… I wanted to see you.”

You bite your lip, standing a little straighter. “Oh.” You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Well… Do you like it?” You toy with the hem of your skirt. “It’s my outfit for the competition circuit.”

“Give me a spin, darling.”

You oblige him, feeling slightly giddy as you do yet another rotation. You hear him hum, and when you fall to a stop in front of him again, you’re closer.

“Beautiful.” Tom rubs together his hands, slender fingers gloveless and unaffected by the imminent game. He rocks back on his skates, clicking his tongue as he looks a little apprehensive. “I, uh… I was thinking about what you said last week about never going to a hockey game before.” He pauses to dig through one of his deep pockets, pulling out a few pieces of paper. He offers them to you tentatively. “If you want, I have some spare tickets for tonight’s game. Pretty good seats. My family normally use them, but they’re busy tonight, so…?”

It’s with a mix of shock and gratitude that you nod your head immediately, reaching out to take the tickets. “I’d love to, Tom,” you murmur. “Thank you.”

He grins, face lighting up. “Perfect,” he returns. “Maybe you’ll be my lucky charm.”

Your teeth graze your lower lip, and you smile. “I hope so.”

Tom opens his mouth as if to say more, but then there’s a holler from further down the corridor.

“Dutchy! Five minutes! Hurry up!”

He grimaces, rolling his eyes. “Well, that’s me.”

“Dutchy?” you question.

Tom shrugs, then turns around and extends his thumb over his back to gesture at his jersey. “Holland,” he says. He turns back to look at you, grinning. “Just a nickname.”

You coo. “That’s cute.”

Tom licks his lip. “‘S not the only thing that’s cute.” You barely have time to respond before he’s leaning forward to quickly kiss your cheek. “Have fun!” he says, already on his way down the corridor.

“Good luck!” you return. You can almost feel the ghost of his touch, resting on your face so perfectly.

Tom turns, right at the end of the corridor, and he winks. You don’t realise how tightly you’re holding yourself until he disappears, and your lovestruck muscles unravel.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It’s hard to explain to Tai and Yelena the relationship you have with Tom, so you just give up after a while. They accompany you to the arena. You manage to change your dress for something more casual, deciding to keep the red lipstick on. Tom’s seats are at the end of the rink, positioned mid-way up the stands. They give you a clear view across the ice.

The atmosphere is electric. You’re surrounded by the home crowd, decked out in replica jerseys, printed scarves, and hats that have Kingston Kites printed all over them. It’s a sea of white, green, and orange, and you can’t stop yourself from slipping out during the first break to buy yourself a scarf—just to support the team, and Tom. The teasing you receive from your friends when you reappear is hard to ignore but mellows out when you procure a bag of Maltesers you’d also bought from the stand.

And Tom… Tom.

Tom’s incredible. You can’t keep your eyes off him. The silhouette of his padded figure feels like it’s burnt to your memory. When he’s on the ice, he’s magnificent, commanding the space well, grunting and spinning as he plays. When he’s waiting for his turn on the bench with his team, he’s focused and calm. His eyes are sharp and intense, glinting almost black beneath the harsh rink lighting as they follow the puck across the ice. You find yourself admiring everything about him—watching the way his cheeks are flushed a rosy red, his jawline sharp and fierce. He’s on fire, passion rolling off every part of him, and, quite honestly, it’s incredibly attractive.

Tom’s explained the basic rules of hockey to you a few times, but there’s a stark difference between him telling you, quietly, how line rotations work and actually seeing them in action on a scale like this. The players swap out every minute, only staying on the ice for a short burst of energy as they chase the puck around. Tom, holding the loose position of centre forward, goes wherever needed, carving up the ice like it’s his one task in life. You’re high in the stands, but even from so far, you’re able to see the determination and the passion burning in his eyes.

The game is brutal. By the time it reaches the third and final twenty-minute segment, the score is tied 2-2. You watch, on tenterhooks, as Tom jumps the barrier on the side of the rink, swapping in for one of the players and taking his spot on the ice.

He’s antsy, as are the rest of the team. You know it’s an important match, and if they want a chance at continuing to the next stage of the competition, they need the result to swing in their favour. Your eyes are wide, fingers curled into fists as you watch Tom cut up the ice. The helmet on his head protects his skull, but you can make out a few strands of dark brown hair sticking out, and you find yourself struck with the very prominent and aching thought that you’d quite like to play with it.

The puck ends up at your end of the rink, and the Kingston Kites take on a defensive strategy as their opponents try to put pressure on the goalie and get in another shot. You find your eyes trained directly on Tom and startle as you catch him looking up at you. Through panting breaths, his lips quirk into a brief, tight smile of recognition, but then it sours as his eyes slip beside you and look at Tai. Your friend is sitting to your right, his arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders, and you’re casually leaning into his side. It’s entirely platonic, but you don’t miss the way Tom’s eyebrows shoot up as his gaze hardens and his jaw sets with determination.

The whole interaction lasts less than a second, but as Tom refocuses on the game and hurtles after the puck, he seems more aggravated. You sit forward, gaining a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you shrug off Tai and stare at Tom. Your eyes follow him as he goes in hard, trying to wrestle the puck out from beneath his opponent’s stick. It looks to be a bit of a mess, and you hear everyone in your section gasp as Tom roughly elbows the other guy. He goes spinning with a yelp, and the referee blows on the whistle, pausing the game. There are a few yells of ‘Dutchy’, coupled with disgruntled hollering from the people around you as they question the referee’s decision to pause.

“Fucking hell,” Yelena murmurs, leaning forward on her elbows and staring across the ice. “Your guy is crazy.”

You suck in a breath, watching as the referee points at the penalty box and Tom stomps towards it. You can almost see the frustrated steam pouring from his ears.

“He’s… passionate.” You bite your lip. Somehow, you feel responsible for his outburst.

“Shit,” Tai mutters. He too leans forward, until all three of you are sitting there, elbows on your knees, staring at the penalty box. “That’s kind of hot.”

Your throat feels dry as you watch Tom throw his stick on the ground of the penalty box. Given all the walls are made of plastic, you have an unobstructed view as he pulls off his helmet and tosses it on a seat too. He marches a few paces up and down, speaking angrily to himself, his expression one of pure irritation. When he finally sits down, he runs a gloved hand through his hair, pushing away the sweaty strands that stick so deliciously to the top of his flushed forehead. You watch, your breath light and shallow, as Tom jerks off the glove and shoves his fingers into his mouth, pulling out his mouthguard before picking up a bottle and squirting a long stream of water into his open mouth.

“Fuck,” you murmur, eyes transfixed. There’s a heat in the pit of your stomach, building as you take in the way Tom’s glowing with a mix of exertion and anger. The match is continuing back on the ice, but you can’t stop looking at the hot flush of his cheeks and the angry lines of his flexed brows and curved jaw. “It is.”

A minute passes, and Tom slowly seems to chill out. It’s only as the seconds fall down into the 30s that he finally seems to release his tension, fixing his mouthguard, and his glove before glancing up at the stands. You’re surprised when, again, he looks directly at you, his entire demeanour shifting when he sees the concern in your eyes. His features soften, lips losing their angry frown and mellowing into a warmer smile, and you watch as his gaze grows fonder.

Yelena hits at your knee immediately. “He’s in love with you,” she announces, certainty in her voice.

You can’t stop looking at Tom, not even when he breaks contact with a wink and shoves his helmet back on.

“Shut up,” you murmur. “He’s not. We’re just friends.”

Tai cackles. “Fuck off,” he says. “Yelena’s right. Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

You sit up, glaring at him. “Like what?”

He smirks. “Like you want to jump each other.”

It’s hard to dispute that one, so instead, you just cross your arms over your chest and stare back at the ice. “You’re wrong, but okay.”

Yelena nudges your side. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“Hmm?”

“Stay behind after the match and ask him.”

You swallow nervously, briefly looking at her. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” she promises. “But… If I am, I’ll let you style my hair for the rest of the season.”

Your eyes light up, and the way that Yelena smirks, you can tell she knows the offer is too good to refuse.

“Fine,” you agree. Your eyes shift back to Tom, watching as he vaults back over the barrier and joins his team. Apparently they’ve forgiven him for the penalty, as he’s welcomed back with firm pats on the back, and you can see his blinding smile from across the rink. “I’ll do it.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

The Kingston Kites win the match, and the arena is quick to empty. You part ways with your friends as they head home and you end up wandering the changing rooms as you try to hype yourself up. There’s a text from Tom waiting on your phone, simply asking how you’d liked the game, so you respond and tell him that you’d much rather go over it in person. After agreeing to meet him outside his locker room, it’s just a waiting game.

You reapply your lipstick and mess around with your hair to kill the time. It’s a little eerie being alone in the skating changing rooms, and as time passes, you hear fewer people hovering around the arena as the players slowly leave the building. It’s hard not to get stuck in your head as you think about your plan to confess your feelings, so you end up pacing in the long corridor that winds between the skating changing rooms and the hockey locker room.

The corridor is bright white and decorated with various sporting memorabilia. Autographed jerseys, shining medals, and printed photographs hang framed on the walls. On your side of the corridor, you catch glimpses of yourself, wearing a tracksuit and hugging your friends, showing off your medals, mid-action on the ice… It makes you proud to see that your team has placed you so frequently in the collage, and you feel a swell of bittersweet gratitude in your chest as you look at snapshots of competitions gone by.

On the other side of the corridor is a similar spread for the hockey team. You stroke at your chin as you examine this season’s photos, skimming your eyes over the group shot and trying to spot the people that you know. When you see Tom, dead centre, grinning widely, it makes you smile.

“—I’m just saying, Dutch, something was going on with you tonight. It can’t happen again. We can’t have you losing focus at this stage in the competition.”

The sound of a gruff voice drifting up the corridor makes you startle, and you glance down to see two figures emerging from the locker room—Tom, and one of his coaches. Tom has traded his gear for a pair of blue jeans and a loose black hoodie, and you watch as he nods and looks at his coach with wide-eyed respect.

“Of course, Spike,” he responds, voice clear, open. “It won’t.”

You watch as Spike sighs, then gives Tom a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Good lad.” He walks back, then makes the okay sign with his fingers. “Your final goal was phenomenal, though. More of that next game, and less time in the penalty box. Got it?”

“Yes, coach.”

“Good. See you tomorrow.”

Tom grunts and the two separate. You watch as he tugs on the front strings of his backpack before turning, his face lighting up as he spots you, leaning against the wall. He quickly strides towards you, footsteps echoing against the cold passage.

“Hey,” Tom calls out, voice bouncing down the hall.

There’s an uncontrollable smile on your face as you stand up and walk to meet him halfway. Tom instinctively wraps you in a hug, lips catching on your cheek when he pulls away.

“Hi,” you reply, voice shy. Tom smells of shower gel and mint, his curls a little damp and darker than usual. “Congrats on the win.”

Tom smirks, nodding as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Thanks, love. Did you enjoy it?”

You release a short laugh. If enjoyment equates to found it incredibly erotic, then, of course, the answer is,

“Yes. Loved it.” You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Did you get in trouble for the penalty box?”

He winces, grimacing at you with his teeth glinting. “A bit,” he admits. “Doesn’t matter though, ‘cos I scored a goal after. I just need to, um… Not do it again.”

The air between you is thicker, and you find yourself swallowing as you note the way Tom’s looking at you, eyes hungry.

“What happened?” You say, testing the waters tentatively. “You seemed fine, and then you got… Fired up.”

Tom swallows. “I… Just got tetchy.” He clears his throat. “Who, uh… Who were you at the match with?”

You smirk, realising that your hypothesis was right. “My friends. Yelena and Tai. They’re on the team with me.”

“Friends?” Tom confirms, expression perking up.

“Yeah. Friends.”

He steps closer. “Did they like the game?” he asks.

“Yeah. They thought you were hot.”

Tom chuckles, briefly glancing at the floor before drawing his eyes back to you. They linger on your lips, and your breath hitches as he tentatively, testingly reaches out and places his hands on your hips. When you sink into it, he grows bolder, pulling you closer until your faces are near. You love the way his hands feel as they rest on your waist.

“Did you?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you think I was hot?”

It’s hard to concentrate when Tom’s standing so close to you, looking at you with his eyes so intense, but somehow you manage to wrap your arms around his neck and nod. “Yeah,” you admit. You toy with his curls, giving them a short tug when he groans enjoyably. “I always think you’re hot.”

Tom wears his smirk so well that it’s almost infuriating.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asks, fingers softly caressing your sides. When you squeak out a noise of affirmation, Tom lets his nose brush up against yours. He swallows deeply, nervousness mixing with his teasing. “I think you’re stunning, too. All the time, but especially tonight, when you were sitting up there, wearing a team scarf and watching me play.”

“Oh,” you murmur. It’s hard to maintain eye contact with him when there’s so much going on in the depths of his gaze that it dizzies you. “Thank you.” Growing a little bolder, you let your fingers glide up, tangling in the ends of his hair. “It was fun watching you play. You’re really talented, Tom.”

His nose is still cold against yours, and you let your eyes fall shut as he slowly traces patterns over your sides.

“Thanks, darling.”

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, you feel a shiver roll down your spine as the pet name falls from his lips. Usually, you’d be able to play it off from the cold, or like you’re stretching a muscle, but he’s holding you so close that you’re sure he felt it.

“Tom,” you say, voice hushed. You feel safe in his arms, you feel loved in his arms, but your skin is still crawling with built-up desire. There’s an ache in your chest that burns brighter with each second he lingers so close, but yet remains so far. “Do you want to…”

“What, sweetheart?”

Again, your breath catches. You hear Tom release a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, his lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as his lips, warm and slightly chapped, explore your own.

It’s a little fumbly, and it takes a few moments for you to learn the slopes of his face so intimately, but once you’ve both readjusted and altered your positions, it’s quick to heat up. Tom’s fingers grip your waist tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into his hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, you feel him slip his tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

You end up against the cool brick wall, making out like you’re both teenagers again. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. You moan softly as Tom pulls away from your mouth, his attention shifting to your neck. As you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to him, you whimper as you feel his lips drag over your exposed skin. He nibbles and suckles until he finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

“Fuck,” you whimper. You tug on his air-dried curls, coaxing him back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours. Tom sighs, and you can feel him smiling into it.

There are noises, coming from further down the hall, and when they increase in volume, Tom reluctantly pulls back from your mouth. He links your hands together and swings them through the air, looking up to meet your eyes. His face is cute, lips puffy and red, eyes dancing with hope.

“D’you want to—”

“Oi, Dutchy!”

You jump as a holler comes from down the hall, echoing off the vast brick walls. Tom’s expression shifts, his lips pursing as he glances down the corridor. He turns away from you to yell back.

“What?”

You think it’s Osterfield, one of Tom’s friends. He too is dressed casually, standing tall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“We’re going out! Don’s got us the VIP section down at the Grove. C’mon!”

Tom looks torn, a ripe line carved out between his brows. He glances back at you, biting his lower lip.

“Go,” you urge, smiling softly. “Celebrate with your team.”

He frowns slightly. “Come with us?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, it should just be you guys.” As much as you like Tom, you can’t think of anything worse than going on a night out with the entire loud, boisterous hockey team. You smile encouragingly when you see the turmoil in his eyes. “You deserve it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can stay here, and we can—”

You lean up, moving your hands back down to his shoulders as you kiss him very softly. “Go,” you urge, whispering against his thin lips.

Tom leans into you, keeping your lips pressed until you can feel him smiling into it. He begrudgingly steps back. “Thank you,” he says, “for coming to the game. And being so lovely.” His lips quirk a little taller. “And for letting me kiss you.”

“Well, it didn’t take much convincing.” You cross your arms over your chest and lean back against the wall, your figure feeling colder without Tom’s touch. His eyes run the lines of your face, gaze warm and comforting.

“Have a nice night,” he says. There’s still hesitation on his face, so you step forward and kiss his cheek before gently pushing his shoulder.

“You too” you respond. Tom finally walks away, but only after shooting you a wink.

You lean back against the wall, pulling out your phone and staring at the blank screen as you discreetly keep your focus on Tom. When he reaches the end of the corridor, Osterfield thumps him on the back and murmurs something unintelligible which earns him a shove into the doorway as the two friends leave together. Tom glances back just before disappearing, and you smile at him as he waves his hand playfully.

Once alone, you release a tight sigh of contentment. You deflate, sagging against the wall as you feel your heart beating faster in your chest. Absently, one of your hands drifts up, fingertips resting on the outline of your lips. Your mouth is still warm from Tom’s kisses, and your heart feels a little softer, too.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You don’t see him for a while, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t constantly on your mind. At some point, Tom adds you to his private Instagram story, and it feels like a gentle confirmation that he feels the same way as you. You stay in constant contact, and he starts to send you more memes and silly texts each evening. The smile on your lips barely fades, and every time your phone lights up with a new text from him, you get excited.

Unfortunately, the high doesn’t last forever. All too soon, it’s a week before your first competition, and the good feeling finally goes away. As extended practices cut into your life, you’re left frazzled and stressed, trying to balance your team’s expectations against your own personal competitiveness. It doesn’t help that your ankle is giving you grief again.

“No, no, no. You’re better than this, Y/N! Stop cutting the spin too early. You have to extend it into the end of the beat!”

It’s a Thursday morning, and you’re exhausted. The bags beneath your eyes hang heavy, and every manoeuvre you try to execute just seems to leave you worse than before. You’re cold on the ice, and your bones are chilled from fatigue and stress. Everything aches, and try as you might, you can’t land the final ten seconds of your routine. Your coach has forced you to go over it again and again, minutes blurring to hours as your frustration festers.

“It’s not working,” you call back, reaching up to tug on your hair. Your coach is leaning against the rink barrier, resting on her elbows as she watches you, pursed lips.

“Do it again,” she encourages. “Faster!”

You grit your teeth, skating back into the centre of the ice. The music starts again, and you run through the entire final section, nailing the parts that you know. Yet, as you reach the big finish, you falter. You end up flat on the ice, frustrated tears burning your eyes as your ankle throbs. As the track cuts out again, you hear your coach’s loud sigh, carrying across the ice.

“Pack it in. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

You grimace as you climb back to your feet, wincing slightly.

“I can do it again,” you call back, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You want to. You have to.

Your coach shakes her head, lips set in a firm line. “You can’t,” she responds. “You’re worn out and making mistakes. Your injury won’t sustain you.” She pauses to shake her head. “This isn’t what any of us want, Y/N, but you need to rest.”

Your fingernails dig into your palms as you grit your teeth. “But—”

“No. Go home.” Your coach pushes off from the barrier, shaking her head. When you fail to move, she turns back, arching a brow. “Go.”

A string of irritated cuss words falls quietly from your lips as you reluctantly skate from the centre of the rink. Your fingers go to your cheeks, wiping away the cool tears that fall from frustration. It’s a private session, but a few of your team are hanging around. Their sympathetic smiles and gentle arm pats make you bristle, and you’re silently seething as you stomp over to one of the benches and throw yourself onto it, groaning.

You lie down and stare at the ceiling for a while, trying to focus on your breathing. It’s just one bad training session. You’ve landed the end section of your routine plenty of times before. It’s just a bad day.

…But it’s also a bad day, one week before the first rounds of competitions, where a performance like the one you just gave would have you finishing in last place, your Olympic dreams crumbling to pieces.

You close your eyes, clenching your hands into fists as you stretch out over the bench. Your teammates know to give you space, so you aren’t sure why you feel a shadow falling across your face. You ignore it for a few moments, putting it down to someone unknown peering at you fleetingly, but when it persists, you pry an angry eye open.

“What— Tom?”

For the second time, you find yourself surprised by his presence. Tom is standing beside your bench, swallowed by a deep green hoodie with a blue denim jacket pulled over the top of it. In his hands are a stack of papers and his eyes are full of concern.

“Hi,” Tom says quietly, looking a little embarrassed. His cheeks are dusted light pink. You wonder how long he’s been staring at you for. “Are you okay? I, uh… I saw the end of your training.”

You feel rigid and breakable as his eyes pool with warmth, his gaze like tender sunbeams. When he steps closer and presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, your stress bubbles over. As you bring your knees to your chest, you press the side of your face into them, blinking up at him as a few tears skate down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, cooing softly. “Don’t cry, darling.”

Tom gently coaxes you up the bench and sits behind you, throwing a leg either side of the wood to straddle it. You let him pull you back into him, his arms feeling warm and strong as he hugs you tightly from behind. He burrows his face into your neck, warm hands going up to cup your cheeks as his fingertips carefully flick your tears away.

“I’m not sad,” you murmur, swallowing back another wave of tears. “I’m just annoyed.”

“I know.” Tom pauses, and you take a moment to breathe in the scent of fresh laundry. “It’s the most frustrating thing in the world when you can’t get something right. But if you work yourself into the ground, you won’t ever be able to do it.”

“But- but what if I want to work myself into the ground,” you mutter, causing him to chuckle.

“Then you’d be silly.” Tom kisses your cheek, his lips warm and light. “And you’re not silly. You’re the strongest athlete that I know, Y/N. You just need to let other people look after you. Let… Let me look after you.”

Your breath hitches and slowly, you pull your face away from your knees. You stretch your legs out in front of you and turn to look at Tom, curiosity in your gaze as you think about how close he’s holding you, and how passionately he’s speaking to you.

“Thank you,” you say, voice quiet. A shy smile curls across your lips.

Tom hums. His hands fall down to your shoulders, and he gently squeezes your arms. “Go have a shower,” he says. “You’ll feel better, and then I’ll look after you some more.”

You reach out, fingers twirling around the strings of his hoodie. “You’re too nice to me,” you murmur, shyly ducking away from his gaze. “How are you so perfect?”

He laughs, the sound so ripe and joyful that it brings warmth back to your chest.

“I’m not,” Tom disputes. “I just care about you.”

You hum, and before you can lose your cool, you lean in and softly kiss him. Tom’s still for a moment, but then he pushes closer, gently and delicately kissing you back. His hands swoop down to hold your waist, lightly stroking over your sides. When you pull away a few moments later, you feel steadier.

“Hmm,” you say, mind running slow, ensnared by the glimmers of warmth in his eyes. “I like kissing you.”

Tom chuckles, nose brushing yours. “I like kissing you too.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It turns out that Tom’s right—you do feel better after having a shower. As you find yourself in the deserted skating changing rooms, the sight of your troubles being swirled away down the plughole releases a large part of your stress. The hot water coaxes your good mood back, and it continues, even when you have to wrap up your ankle again.

By the time Tom reappears, knocking gently on the changing room door before entering, you feel better. You’ve changed clothes, washed your hair, cleansed yourself of all the bad energy that had clogged you up. You feel like you again.

“I got this for you,” Tom announces. He holds a disposable cup in his hand and presents it to you with a grin. “Hot chocolate, for m’lady.”

You roll your eyes as you accept it, looking up at him with gratitude warming your chest. “Thanks, Tom.”

He glances down, eyes taking in your form. You’re again stretched out on a bench, one of your legs bent at the knee, the other laying out in front of you. A few bandages hang around, and Tom looks at them curiously.

“How’s your ankle?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip as he stares at your fluffy sock.

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I braced it. Should be alright as long as I take it easy.”

Tom nods, then very slowly walks to the end of the bench. He runs his index finger down the bottom of your leg, his touch light but warm. You’re in a skirt, your legs bare and exposed, and as you take in the mischievous glint in his eye, you wonder what he has in mind.

“Y/N,” Tom starts, voice gentle. His fingertips play around with the top of your sock as he looks up at you from beneath his lashes. “Can I kiss it better?”

You’re breathing a little lighter as you look at him. “Yeah,” you agree. “Go ahead.”

Tom kneels on the floor, settling beside the bench with ease. With gentle fingers, he rolls down the top of your sock, just far enough so he’s able to leave a very soft kiss to your tender skin. He doesn’t linger there too long, his eyes fixed to your face, but his lips don’t leave you, either. Very carefully, taking his time, Tom starts to drop kisses to your skin. He gradually works his way further up your leg, dusting warm, open-mouthed kisses from your ankle to your shin, then your knee.

You shift on the bench as Tom starts to come higher, one of your hands drifting down to rest in his curls. You put the disposable cup on the floor as you watch him. There’s a heat slowly building in the pit of your stomach, and with each meeting of your flesh and Tom’s mouth, it grows more pronounced. It isn’t long before you’re parting your legs, his lips pausing at the bottom of your thigh as he changes from light kisses to deeper, needier sucks. A short whimper travels from your mouth, wobbling into the air as his lips draw the blood to the surface of your skin.

“You’re so pretty,” Tom murmurs, looking up at you from the ground. His eyes are wide, darkened with lust. He splays his hand along your neglected thigh, rubbing gentle circles to the skin. You whimper when he drops his tongue to lap over one of the marks he’s pulled to the surface of your skin. “Do you want me to go any higher?” His voice is raspy.

The space between your legs is throbbing, and immediately you nod. “The, uh, the door,” you murmur, voice shaking. Tom presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before standing up. He winks at you before jogging to the changing room door, easily flicking the lock, then coming back towards you. “Are you, um… Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Tom grins. He sinks down to his knees beside your head, his hands tugging the bottom of your legs. You sit up on the edge of the bench and turn as your thighs open over his shoulders. Tom kneels between them, his bed of brown curls complementing your skin tone nicely. He presses a kiss to your neglected leg before his hands carefully skim up to play with the hem of your skirt.

“I wouldn’t mind one bit,” he replies, his voice a little darker. He tilts his head as he meets your gaze, smirking softly. “I’d really like to. Do you want to know a secret, darling?” Tom’s fingers slide up, his index and his middle making contact with the front of your panties. As he traces delicately over the front of your core, small arcs of pleasure roll out from your centre. The way his lips twitch taller makes you wonder if he can feel the way your cunt seems to throb.

“Yeah,” you respond, voice light. A whimper passes through your lips as Tom applies a little more pressure to your covered clit, your hips gyrating down to meet his fingertips in response.

He pulls back, only to push your skirt out of the way, tutting quietly when you mewl.

“Been wondering what you’d taste like for ages, love,” he coos. He uses his grip on your thighs to pull you closer, and you moan when he buries his head between your legs. Your panties are still on, but that doesn't stop Tom from nosing up against your slit, hot breath fanning out across your warmth. When he draws his tongue over the front of your panties, you release a breathless whine. “Bet it tastes as pretty as you are.”

You reach down and bury your hand back into his curls, pulling Tom closer as he ghosts his tongue over the front of your panties. He’s lapping lightly up your slit, the pleasure muted but still there, and your eyes fall shut as the muscles in your thighs tense.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine, feeling your cunt pulse. “Take them off. I need more.”

His nimble fingers are quick to follow your instructions, and as soon as your hips are falling back to the bench, his mouth is on you. You cry out as you finally feel him, the pleasure direct and far greater than you’d expected. Tom devours you, using both of his thumbs to press your lips apart as his tongue travels all over your heat. He spends a while focusing on your clit, the tip of his tongue firm and unrelenting, but when you start to whine a little louder, he teases you by drawing away. He flattens his tongue and licks a few broad strokes up your centre, moaning against you until you’re fisting at his hair and shaking.

“Fuck,” you whine, voice barely there. “Feels so good.”

Tom’s complete attention is on you and your eyes roll back when he teases your entrance with his mouth. One of his thumbs rolls up to toy with your clit as he pushes his tongue into you, your walls throbbing as he explores you. You push him deeper, obscenities mixing with slurred acclamations of his name, and it’s as though you can feel your pulse hammering in your head.

“Knew it. Tastes like fucking heaven,” Tom murmurs, pulling away from your entrance to shoot you a smirking smile. He brings two fingers to your pussy and teases you there, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead when you moan and rut down against them, taking agency and fulfilling your desires. “Shit, baby. You’re so wet.” He fucks your heat, eyes moving off your face and fixing on the mess between your legs as he coos. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” you whine. When Tom drops his head and wraps his lips back around your clit, you cry out. “Getting so close,” you say, words tangling together as your chest heaves. You feel so hot, your body trembling as your edge hangs in sight. “Keep going, f-fuck, Tom. You’re so good.”

He adds a third finger to your heat, and your jaw slackens. Tom changes the angle of his digits a few times before curling them just right, and he continues to stroke up against your g-spot as you cry out. You stammer out a few words of warning, and he moans in response. The vibrations of the sound coupled with the way his tongue is applying the perfect amount of warm, sloppy pressure to your clit push you over the edge. As you peak, you fall back onto your elbows, tightening your grip on his hair as your pussy throbs, taking wave after wave of pleasure as it rocks across you and smothers you.

Tom doesn’t stop until you’ve ridden it out completely and you’re sensitive. With a push at his hair, you coax him away, still trying to gather yourself as your throat feels dry. The expression of cocky fulfilment hanging from his lips makes you shiver, and you almost moan again as you take in the sight of his chin, glistening with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks, cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. Tom carefully stands up, still looking at you as he leans back and picks up a box of tissues from one of the benches. He passes a few to you then leans back against one of the lockers, looking at you admiringly with his arms crossed.

“Really good,” you manage, voice still a little hoarse. You clear your throat and ignore his chuckle as you take care of the mess between your legs with a tissue. Your eyes soften when you look back to him. “Thank you.”

Tom just nods, taking the used tissues and binning them before making a quick stop by a sink to wash his hands. When he strolls back over, he stands in front of you and cups your cheeks in his palms. You stare up at him, smiling as he meets your eyes.

“Glad I could make you feel nice,” he says, voice soft. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now… If you have time, I want to take you home. Run you a nice bath, make you some lunch. Make sure you’re looking after yourself.”

You feel your face warm as you listen to his musings, and find yourself biting the inside of your cheek. “You’d want to do all that for me?”

Tom nods. His hands run over your face, fingertips gently caressing your cheekbones. It’s as if he’s examining you, trying to ensure that you’re okay, that you’re safe, that you’re happy. It makes your heart soar.

“‘Course, darling. I care about you a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side so you can kiss the inside of his palm. “Okay,” you agree. You stand up, wincing slightly as your ankle disagrees with taking your weight. Tom’s hands move down to hold your waist, steadying you. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You start to walk, only to look back at him and glare jokingly. “Can’t believe you ruined my underwear,” you say. “Feels fucking freezing without them on.”

Tom arches a brow, picking up his bag and slinging it over his back before catching up to you. “Um, I think technically it was you who ruined your underwear.”

You scrunch up the tip of your nose, only for your scowl to melt when he kisses it. When you reach the door, you undo the lock and open it, letting Tom through before following him out into the corridor.

“Whatever,” you reply, sinking into his side. His hand is warm in yours, your fingers tangled together nicely. “Worth it.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It’s noisy in the arena.

With the final match of the season underway and the league title up for grabs, the atmosphere is electric. The stands are packed, frenzied by the presence of the large broadcasting cameras that stream the match live to thousands online. Sitting in the home section, the noise seems louder than it would be elsewhere in the arena. Everyone around you is as invested in the result as you are, and as the energy rises and falls, you feel connected to the mass of strangers around you. You know that they share the ache in your fingers built from the tight clenching of your knuckles into fists, and the strain of your eyes as you spend too long staring at the bright white ice.

The score is 4-4. The players from both teams have been giving some of the most convincing performances of their careers. It’s been close all match.

You hadn’t been sure that you’d be able to make the game, your own days filled with the later stages of your competition, but you’re glad you managed to swing it. Tom needs you.

He’s skating well. He’d assisted one of the team’s goals, and managed to subvert several other shots on goal attempted by his rivals. Tom looks as handsome as ever, face flushed, eyes focused, figure bulked wide with protective padding, but you know he’s nervous. He’s looking up at you more than usual, his teeth gritted together, and his jaw tensed. It’s clear just how much the title means to him.

It’s been a few weeks since Tom came and picked you up after your meltdown at practice, and since then, your feelings for him have escalated. You think it must be a form of torture to watch someone you care about so much getting pushed around, and injured, and hurt on the ice, knowing you can’t do anything but sit and watch it play out in front of you. Every time he gets slammed up against one of the plastic wall barriers, you wince, almost feeling the pain yourself, and despite him always brushing it off and getting on with the game, you worry for him.

“Fucking hell. That looks like it hurts.”

Beside you is Harry, one of Tom’s brothers. You’d met him before the match when Tom had thrust a ticket at you and told you that he’d wrestled it off one of his other brothers. Your guilt had been assuaged when you’d been told that Paddy finds the finals too stressful to sit through. Harry’s been entertaining you all evening, acting as a buffer between you and his parents, who make you feel nervous being so close to.

“Shit,” you agree. You wince as Tom gets barged into and goes spiralling across the ice, only stopping when one of his teammates catches him. “This is actually brutal.”

Harry makes a low humming noise. He turns to glance at you, then he hesitantly reaches down to pat your knee.

“He’ll be fine, though, Y/N,” he says, speaking a little awkwardly. “It’s uh… just part of the job. He’s used to it. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s broken his nose.”

You hum as you think about the wonky lines of Tom’s face. “True,” you agree. You pull your team scarf further around your figure, snuggling into it in search of relief. “Just isn’t nice to see him hurt.”

Harry makes a humming sound of agreement and releases your leg with a final pat. The game continues, and before you know it, they’re into the last third. As the clock ticks down from 20 minutes, things are tense. Tom blurs with the rest of the team, and your eyes skim around all the figures, moving and spinning across the ice like it’s choreographed. There’s something quite beautiful about how they’re able to execute formations and manoeuvres amidst such chaos.

Your eyes stick to the back of Tom’s jersey, screaming Holland in bright orange. He’s closing in on an opponent, trying to steal the puck with gritted teeth. The air leaves your lungs as the scene plays out in slow motion, your eyes widening to the size of gold coins as you watch the larger man smack the puck with ferocity, attempting a shot on goal before Tom manages to steal it. Instead of the puck flying near the goal, the angle flicks it to the side, and the entire section around you gasps as it soars through the air and collides with Tom’s face. His eyes are fine, given the visor on his helmet, but his nose is exposed, and it bears the brunt.

Your heart stills for a moment, the volume of the arena fading out completely as you see Tom go down, clutching at his nose as a trail of blood drips over the ice. There’s the sound of a whistle, and you only start to breathe again when you see one of Tom’s teammates haul him from the rink. His blood freezes to the ice, leaving a trail of dark marks staining the ground behind him.

“Fuck, fuck,” you find yourself saying, finally tearing your eyes away from Tom to stare at Harry. Tom’s brother is wincing. “What do we do?”

Harry shrugs, grimacing. You look back to the ice to where Tom’s being dragged on his skates back to the team bench. You can see him smiling, but it's indisputable that he’s in pain. You can see it in his eyes, and the way his blood mixes with the salty blend of aching tears. “Can’t really do anything,” he says. “Told you his nose gets it.” Harry pauses for a moment, then gently elbows your side. “You could go down, though. They’ll probably do a quick fix in the tunnel. I doubt he’ll want to be benched for the rest of the match.”

You nod stiffly, but find yourself hesitating. “Are you, uh, sure that he’d want that? It wouldn’t be annoying?” When Harry turns to raise an eyebrow, you chuckle nervously. “I don’t want to knock him out of the zone, y’know?”

Harry’s eyes fill with understanding, but you think you can still detect a layer of teasing to it. “My brother is actually obsessed with you,” he says. “He watches compilation videos from your competitions every single bloody night. Even if you broke his heart, I doubt he’d ever be able to find you annoying. So…” Harry pokes your shoulder. “Get down there, alright?”

You shoot him a smile, unable to pretend that his words don’t warm your heart.

The game is still paused, yet you hurry down the aisle, stepping over trays of discarded nachos and half-filled plastic pints of beer as you utter words of apology to the disgruntled fans. Moving quickly, you dodge up and enter one of the back stairwells, flashing your team ID at security. The arena is a complex system of back corridors and passages, but you know them inside out.

You reach the long corridor that connects the changing rooms to the ice, and you see Tom standing in the middle of it. He’s surrounded by people—doctors, his coach, a few reserve players. Out in the arena, you hear the game pick up, but back here, time is standing still.

“Stay still,” one of the medics says. Tom grumbles something before yelling out a light curse word. The closer you walk, the more you see. Tom’s holding a bunch of stained tissues to the bottom of his nose as the medic quickly bandages his bridge. It’s not advised for him to go back on the ice with a broken nose—but you also know that with ten minutes left on the clock, the patchy fix-it job probably won’t cause permanent damage. You quite like Tom’s wonky nose, anyway.

“He’s such a twat,” Tom grumbles, wincing again. “Did he get benched?”

“Yeah. Penalty.”

“Good.” Tom folds his arms over his chest. When the medic pulls away to dig through his bag of bandages, Tom glances up the corridor. His eyes widen as he sees you, and you watch him do a double-take. When you raise a hand in greeting, his face softens. “Y/N?”

“Hi,” you call out, stepping closer. “Is it okay I’m here? I, um… I was worried.”

He nods, only to receive a scolding from the medic. Smiling sheepishly, Tom beckons you closer. He offers you a hand, gloveless and cold, and you hurry forward to take it.

“‘Course,” he murmurs. Now close, you’re able to see the flecks of dried blood on his face. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he says, speaking softly as if he knows how frazzled you feel. “Happens all the fucking time.”

“Mmm. Harry said so.”

Tom raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? How is he? Looking after you?”

You chuckle. “He’s funny,” you say. You roll your thumb over the back of Tom’s knuckles as he winces again, the medic pushing his ice pack out of the way so he can dab a wet tissue at Tom’s nostrils. You realise that his nose has stopped bleeding.

“Funnier than me?”

“Never.” You squeeze Tom’s hand. “You’re doing well out there.”

“Thanks, darling.” Tom glances away from you, looking back at the medic as he finally steps away to gather his stuff. “Can I-?”

“Yes,” the medic confirms. “Just don’t touch anyone. The second you’re done, come find me and I’ll fix you properly.”

Tom nods, then bites back a noise of pain. “Thanks, Doc,” he murmurs. Tom looks back to you, dropping his voice as you’re left alone with him. “I, uh, I gotta go,” he says, tilting his shoulder back in the direction of the ice.

“Okay.” You shoot him a soft smile and squeeze his hand before stepping back. “Good luck, Tom. Smash it.”

He pouts slightly, a wedge forming between his brows. “Kiss?”

“Kiss?” you repeat, snorting softly. When Tom nods sadly, you step nearer and press your hands to his shoulders. You lean up and capture his lips in a warm kiss, smiling into it as his palms paw at your waist. For a very brief moment, you get lost in it, overcome by the round lines of his chapped mouth and the heat of his hands, but you force yourself to step back. You can feel how badly he wants to be out on the ice. “Good luck, handsome,” you say, whispering against his lips. You step back and cross your arms, smiling widely as he blushes. “You’ve got this.”

Tom gives you a final nod, eyes alight. “See ya in ten!” he says, before turning on his skates. You stay watching him until he reaches the end of the corridor, and the smile is still on his face as he turns back to grin at you. The arena goes wild as he reappears, and you find yourself biting your lips as you try to control the butterflies in your stomach.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom lives about twenty minutes from the arena, and you find yourself waiting on his front step. With your knees pulled to your chin, the chill of a March evening cools your face. You don’t feel the cold much—instead, you’re distracted by the images of the team winning, playing on loop in your mind.

It’s a blur. A snapshot collection of Tom scoring the tie-breaking goal, the sight of the crowd going wild as the final buzzer sounded, the spray of champagne foam sticking to the ice. You’d hung around afterwards, receiving a very messy kiss from Tom who was vibrating from excitement. After a round of celebratory photos, Tom had been hunted down by the medics, and he’d pulled you aside briefly to ask you to meet him here.

You sigh as you stretch your legs out in front of you, looking down at the laces of your shoes and how they contrast the dark cement paving stones. Tom shares his house with Harrison and Harry. You’ve been here a few times, and it feels odd to be here without him.

“Y/N!”

You startle as you look up, so distracted by the loops of your laces that you’d failed to see Tom. He finishes clambering out of a large car, and you think you catch a glimpse of Harry in the front before it goes speeding away from the pavement. Tom approaches, his nose bruised but free of bandages, a wide smirk on his face as he picks up into a light jog. When he reaches you, he sweeps you to your feet, taking your hands firmly and kissing you before you have a chance to say a word. You shiver as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, craving the body heat, sinking into him and the scent of his fresh shampoo.

“You’re shivering,” Tom murmurs, pulling back to stare at you. His eyes widen as guilt shadows his features. “Fuck, how long have you been waiting for me?” He steps back to dig through his pocket, tongue settling between his lips as he hums.

“Ten minutes,” you estimate. When his eyes widen, you shrug bashfully. “Hasn’t been that bad. Next door’s cat came and said hi.”

Tom scowls as he steps past you, driving his key into the front door with ease. “Little ratty thing, isn’t it?” he mutters. He opens the door with a flourish, then steps aside to invite you in. When you walk across the threshold, Tom winds his arms around you from behind, pressing his chin to your shoulder before tilting his lips so he can kiss your cheek. His warm breath fans out across your face. “I’ll warm you up, darling. I’ll make you feel better.”

Ten minutes later, you’re in his bed. Despite his promise of warming you up, you seem to be losing more and more clothes. What had started out as a celebratory kiss has ended in you straddling him, grinding over Tom’s crotch as he gasps into your mouth and grabs at your waist.

You like being on top. It gives you better access to Tom—to the sight of his face constricting with pleasure every time you grind a little harder, and to the sound of his small moans. There’s a shadow along his nose and lining the swell of his cheeks from the break in his nose, and if he wasn’t so tender, you’d try to kiss it better. Instead, you decide to make him feel better in a different way. He’s calmer now than he’d been at the arena when he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you or his lips away from your neck, but the longer you spend making out with him, the more eager he gets. There’s a dark spark in his eyes that matches the fervour in his grip.

“God,” he murmurs to your lips. “You’re such a beautiful girl.”

A hot flush travels through your body, and you shy your face into his neck. You distract him with kisses, dragging your lips over the firm flesh of his warm skin.

“Can I mark you?” you whisper, dragging your lips up to his ear. Tom moans loudly as you move your teeth over his earlobe and bite lightly.

“Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, rolling his hips up against you. You’ve ditched your jeans, and so has he, but where you’re still draped in a shirt, Tom’s chest is bare and exposed. You run your hand over his arm and feel his muscles there as you kiss up the side of his neck. Deep marks follow in the wake of your lips, but they aren’t nearly as pretty as the sound of Tom’s moans. “Fuck, darling. Shit. Feels so good.”

Tom lasts about a minute more before growling and pushing you from his neck. His eyes glint and a shrill squeal leaves your lips as he picks you up and presses you down onto the mattress. As your back sinks into the bed, the slats creak. Tom cages you in with a forearm either side of your head, one of his hands drifting into the ends of your hair as he very lightly rests his nose against yours.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” Your smile twists a little darker as Tom rolls his hips against yours and you feel his cock straining against his boxers. You reach up to play with his hair, tugging on the strands when Tom moans. His curls are fresh and fluffy, air-dried after the shower and silky smooth to touch. You’ve been together a few times since he ate you out in the changing rooms, and though you’re yet to go all the way, you’ve picked up on a few of his preferences. “Are you okay?”

He isn’t doing much, just staring at you, lips parted. His eyes skitter across the shapes of your face before linking up with your own, and you feel your heart clench in your chest as Tom shifts his hand to cup your cheek.

“Just thinking,” he murmurs. He’s speaking quietly, voice gentle as if he’s being fragile with you. “I, um… I want to ask you something?”

You tilt your head to the side. “Right now?” you ask. To prove your point, you snake a hand down between your bodies and apply pressure to his member with the flat of your palm. Tom groans, eyelashes fluttering out across the top of his cheeks. It seems to take him a lot of self-control to nod, and you feel his hips quiver as he holds himself back from grinding into your hand.

“Yeah.” Tom takes a moment to pause. “We’ve been hanging out for a while, Y/N, and I really like you. I think that you’re so talented. And beautiful. Shit, you’re really beautiful.” He chuckles, his nerves showing on his face. “I can’t imagine being with anyone else. I wouldn’t ever want to be with anyone else. So, darling… Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He pulls back to peer at you, teeth clenched, eyes wide.

A smile breaks out across your face.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Tom,” you whisper. You lean up to kiss him just as he leans down, and you gasp as you accidentally hit Tom’s nose with yours. He groans, pulling up and dramatically falling onto his back as his limbs splay out. “Shit,” you giggle, sitting up and crawling closer. Tom’s pouting, tenderly poking at the edge of his nostril as he grimaces. “Sorry, baby.”

Tom melts, pulling you back on top of him. “Call me baby again and you can do anything you want to me,” he mutters. A small blush finds his face as he comprehends his words, and you end up smiling softly as you settle over his thighs. One of his large hands curls between your legs and you whimper as he teases you over your panties for a few moments. When he finally dips his fingers beneath the silky material, you find yourself whimpering.

“Feels good,” you moan, pressing your hands to Tom’s chest as he rolls two fingers around your slit. You get antsy and grind down against his touch, wriggling up his legs until his fingertips nudge against your hole.

His hair is spread out against the white sheets of the bed, face screwed into an expression of concentration as he curves his digits into your heat. You whimper, tossing your head back as he works you open with ease, brushing up against your g-spot and stimulating it until you’re gasping. As heat slowly begins to take over your body, you reach down to the hem of your shirt and pull it off. Next to go is your bra, and you guide Tom’s other hand to the curve of your breasts as you ride down on his hand.

“Look so pretty up there,” he murmurs, biting at his lip. “Like an angel, or a princess.” Tom skims his thumb over your nipple, smirking as you whine. “My princess.”

You gnaw on your lip for a moment before sitting up, letting Tom’s fingers slip out from you. You reach down and hook your thumbs beneath the material of his boxers, and Tom seems to get the hint.

“I need you,” you say, speaking quickly. You have to roll away to kick off your pants, and by the time you’re ready, Tom’s sitting up again. He slides up to sit against the headboard, fiddling with a condom and sheathing himself before you can spend too long admiring his length.

“C’mere then, lovie,” Tom coaxes. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before hitting at his thighs, beckoning you forward. His lips kiss your forehead as you straddle him. Blindly, you reach down to cover his hand in yours, and together, you guide his tip to your entrance. Your slit is hot and pulsing, your body worked up from the teasing and the anticipation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice softer.

You shoot him a teasing look. “Yes,” you emphasise. You bite your lip as you slowly lower yourself onto him, gasping softly. “Been thinking about this for so long, Tom.��

Tom grasps your lower lip between his teeth, sucking on it harshly before flicking it up and stealing your mouth in a deep kiss. You moan as you settle there, in his lap, your walls stretched around him completely. You can feel everything—the curves of his cock, the press of his tip against your velvety walls, the feeling of his skin on yours. You love it.

It’s quick to become hot and intense. Tom’s hands on your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair. The stretch burns to enjoyment before long, and then you’re just lost in it. You feel so bare to him, beyond the fact that your naked bodies are intertwined so closely, like he’s able to see straight through you. For someone who spends so much of his life fighting aggressively, Tom is remarkably soft. His hips are firm, and his thrusts unrelenting, but his lips on your face are warm, and the words of heated affirmation he whispers into your ear make you melt.

“So tight, princess,” Tom moans, grasping at your waist. He kisses you, groaning into your mouth as you continue to ride him. You alternate your movements, swapping between deep bounces and swirling your hips in broad circles so that you get to feel every delicious line, bump and curve of him. “God. Feels like fucking heaven.”

“I know,” you manage, voice hoarse. You’re not embarrassed by the way there are wet sounds of arousal filling the air—it only seems to spur Tom on as he squeezes at your waist.

Things blur quickly. You can tell that he’s wound up from the stress of the game, and his hand is shaking when he reaches up to cup the top of your heat. You’re quick to match his arousal, feeling your own climax jerking closer as Tom brings his thumb down to your clit. You’re aroused, and your slit is wet, so it’s seamless as he toys with the bud.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, the syllables blurring as your eyelids drop closed. It’s hard to tell where your body ends and his begins, but you like it. Tom wraps his other arm around your hip and holds you close, touching his lips to yours as he finally spills.

“You’re so perfect,” he moans, his eyes screwing shut. “Shit, Y/N—”

The action of him throbbing against your walls pushes you over the edge too, and you’re panting into him as warm shivers spread over your entire figure. You’re full of a golden buzz as you stop moving, stilling with his cock still pressed inside you. Tom’s lips come down over the top of your head, following in a line from your forehead down your nose before going to your lips. When he finds your mouth, both of you are smiling.

“Wish we could do that forever,” he murmurs. “Felt amazing, darling. You’re amazing.” There’s a rosy flush to his cheeks, and he looks at you like he’s won the greatest prize of the night. “Stay?”

“Overnight?”

“Yeah. Right here.” Tom reaches out to hit the mattress. “I’ll cuddle you,” he promises. “Make you tea. Bring you breakfast.” He smirks. “Make love to you all night.”

You roll your eyes.

“Okay, boyfriend,” you agree.

Tom raises a brow as if he likes the sound of that, then seals the deal with a softer kiss.

“Perfect.” His hands skim up to cup your breasts, and he pecks your lips a final time. “Girlfriend.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

There’s an hour to go before you skate in the biggest competition of your life. You’re at the largest arena in London, killing time on one of the practice rinks as you try to forget that you’re so close to delivering your final routine of the season. This routine will decide if you come out on top or not and reveal whether you’ve managed to impress the Olympic talent scouts.

You feel a blend of two very fine emotions—confidence and nervousness. You’re prepared, you’re in control, and you’re ready, but that doesn’t make the prospect of going out there any less daunting. Adrenaline soothes the nerves, and distraction is your best friend.

Tom’s sitting on one of the benches, flitting between watching you and messing around on his phone. You’ve learnt that he’s the only person you like to be around before a competition, and in the month you’ve been officially together, he’s become your rock. He seems to get you—understands the way your brain spins when you’re stressed like this, knows when to step near and when to leave you alone. As if sensing your thoughts lie with him, he glances up from his phone.

The month off from competitions has been kind to Tom. He’d had a cracking set of bruises following his broken nose, but they’re healed now, and his skin carries the golden glow of a champion. After mouthing a few words to him from across the ice, you watch him sit up straighter and put his shoes to the bench. Tom had brought his skates to the arena, despite not being the one competing, because he knows, just as you, that sometimes the best way to relax before a competition is to mess around and distract yourself. Sitting beside him is a very large banner, hand-painted, that wears the words, Go Y/N!. He’d made it with the rest of his team, and you’d almost cried when he’d unrolled it and given it to you, grinning with pride like a small child showing off his art project.

You do a few spins as you wait for him, the small practice arena blurring. A few other people are hanging around—mainly your friends, and a few coaches, but none of them pay attention to you. You go so fast that you miss whatever it is Tom scoops up from the bench and then proceeds to hold behind his back, keeping it out of your sight as he skates towards you. A frown finds your lips as you drift nearer, squinting your eyes.

“What’s that?” you ask, trying to make out the object.

Tom juts out his lower lip, eyes dancing teasingly. “Not gonna say hello, darling? That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

You shoot him a poisonous look but sigh when he just smirks in response.

“Hello,” you say. You skate forward, planting your hands on both of his cheeks and drawing him in close. Tom’s lips are warmer than yours, and you savour their firm press. When you pull back, you cross your arms over your chest. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes first.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Begrudgingly, you shut your eyes. You hear the rustling of plastic, and then smell the scent of fresh flowers. Tom presses a bouquet into your hands, and your lips twist up at the corners.

“You can open them now.”

It’s a bunch of roses, dark red and delicate. You trail a thumb over their petals, breath caught in the back of your throat. Your boyfriend continues to speak as he watches you.

“You said that no one had ever bought you flowers before,” he explains, voice steady. “I was going to save them for afterwards when you win, but I know you’ll end up being given about a thousand when they all see how talented they are, so I wanted to get in first.”

You look up at him, tears blurring your waterline.

“They’re beautiful, Tom,” you whisper. His confidence in you, and the support he shows you, every single day, means everything to you. He means everything to you. “I love them. I…” You look up, meeting his eyes as you finally speak the words that you’ve felt so strongly but kept tucked away in your heart for fear of rejection. You aren’t scared anymore. “I love you.”

Tom’s eyes widen, his lips briefly parting. There’s a heart-stopping moment when he betrays nothing, but then life twitches across his face. He relaxes, sinking forward to touch your waist as he pulls you closer and brings his lips to yours.

“I love you too, darling,” he says. He’s able to press his nose against yours now, and you feel his cold tip press to your face as you shift the bouquet into one hand and curl the other around his back. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

You smile against him. “It was lucky, wasn’t it? That out of all the people on the rink that day, it was me you managed to crash into.”

Tom chuckles. “Felt less like luck at the time,” he admits. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

You smirk. “I was pretty mad. Can you blame me, though?”

“Nope.” Tom kisses the tip of your nose. “Worth it, anyway.” He surprises you by skating back, plucking the bouquet from your hand with ease before spinning you beneath his arm, cooing as the hem of your dress flutters in the air. “Did I ever tell you how much I love your outfit?” he adds. “You look like a princess.”

Your cheeks hurt, and when you stop spinning, you turn to face him.

“I feel like a princess,” you admit, accepting the flowers for the second time. “Does that make you my prince charming?”

Tom nods, smiling. “It’d be an honour.”

The air between you stills, and all that’s left is love.

“I’m nervous,” you admit, glancing down. “What if I fuck this up? What if I fall over? Or- or what if I don’t land a jump? What if my ankle can’t take it?” You gnaw on your lip. “Then it’ll all be over.”

Tom soothes you with a hand on your cheek. “You won’t fuck it up,” he says, voice confident. “You’re incredible, Y/N. You know the routine, and you know yourself. You’re ready for this.” He tilts his head to the side, eyes glinting warmly. “You’re going to go out there, smash it, then you’ll come back, and we’ll celebrate. Alright?”

You look down at the roses, then back to your boyfriend’s face, and you know that you believe him.

“Okay,” you agree. You bite your lip before darting up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Tom.”

His eyes are full of adoration. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “I love you too.”

Tom presses his forehead to yours, and you relax there. With your fingers grasping the flowers and his hands caressing your waist, you let him support you. You let him kiss you, and hold you, and love you.

(And, later on, you let him hold your shiny gold medal, too.)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

i hope you guys liked dutchy as much i liked writing him :’)) this has taken almost a month! if there’s any interest, maybe we could do a hockey!tom blurb night soon...? idk ! i’d be down. let me know if you’d be too <3 thanks so much for reading!!!! please let me know what ya think!

mlist and taglist can be found through the link in my bio!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland fluff #hockey!tomfic #tblr....please let me in the tags...? please?

[rrazor]

hq boys post wisdom teeth extraction

tags: fluff, soft boyfies lol

kuroo tetsurou wakes up and immediately the first thing he tells the professionals around him is that he wants to see his girlfriend because he knows you’re waiting for him and “i love her so much 🥺🥰" he says it a few more times and everyone laughs at how doped up he is both from the drugs and you. when you walk in to take notes on how to take care of him afterwards, he just stares at you as he holds you hand with the SOFTEST LOOK on his face like 🥺😍☺️❤️💕💖💝🥺🥰💖💝☺️

tetsu cannot stop looking at you and u almost have to plead with him to watch where’s he walking like tetsu pls we don’t wanna have to come back to get your front teeth done sweetie 🅱️lease!!!!!! other than that he is pretty easy to reason with it as long as you promise to kiss every part of his face once in a particular order and if u mess up, unfortunately, you’ll just have to start over again sigh it makes his heart go 💥💥💥

bokuto kuroo offers to drive him back home and brings you along to support and comfort him. he helps kou get into the back with you but he refuses and goes “kuroooooo, she’s too pretty, I dun wanna sit next to her ☹️” LMFAO kuroo rolls his eyes and just sits him down and buckles him in despite his protests HA

kou is super nervous and keeps looking over you when he thinks you aren’t looking like 🥺😊 and you decide to play along and ask him how he’s feeling and if he’s in pain and he shakes his head and goes “‘m okay, you’re really pretty though 🥺😍” kuroo snorts in the front seat and you’re trying rlly hard to not laugh at how cute he is so you take his hand and kou lit rally thinks he’s gonna pass out when you call him handsome and ask him out before kissing his cheek. he starts crying as he says things like “kuroo!!!! the pretty girl is my girlfriend now!! 🥺❤️😭💖💕😭😭🥳”

akaashi you’re already by his side by the time he wakes up but he doesn’t remember jack so he goes “hello, have u seen my girlfriend? she looks just like you. can u tell me if u see her? I would like to see her—she’s my everything 😊🥰” UGGHH KISS HIIMMM

he doesn’t remember who you are until the medication wears off but you manage to convince him that you’re gonna take him to his girlfriend so you can take him home 💀 and he spends the whole car ride really pretty quiet until you ask him why he’s so fidgety and then he softly tells you “i… can’t wait to see my girlfriend 🥺🥰💕 she said we’d go on an ice-cream date after🍦i hope she’s not mad that it’s been so long 🥺❤️💗” AHDHJANAA like a little happy babyyyy 🥺😭

oikawa tooru’s procedure finishes earlier than expected and has a dental hygienist watching over him as they wait for you and for some reason he starts to sing, but it’s really out of tune because of all the cotton in his mouth and the dental hygienist is just standing there, taking it. you can hear him down the hall as you walk into his room and he’s so excited to see you!!! “did you hear me sing for you, babe? i didn’t want you to get lost in this maze 🥺🥰” “yes, i did, tooru, tysm you don’t have to sing anymore 😊😇💕”

tries to pull you into his lap as the dentist goes through the aftercare procedures and whines “pleasssseeeee, it huuurrrrrttttts i just want cuddddlllleesssss 😭☹️🥺💕” you opt to sit on the edge of the chair as he buries his head in your back 🥰

iwaizumi YOU try to flirt with hajime because he doesn’t remember that you’re his girlfriend and he’s all like stop!!! i have a girlfriend! 😡 AHAHA so you decide to ask him about his lovely girlfriend and he gets the softest smile on his face omggg and he starts going on about how hardworking you are ❤️, determined 💘, beautiful 💖, how nice you smell 😳

when you tell him its you he doesn’t believe you!!! like stop u r trying too hard, stranger!!! 😠 It’s not until you bring up a photo of yourselves and stick it next to your face does he go all soft again like babe i missed you 🥺 there was this weirdo trying to flirt with me, i’m so glad you’re here 🥰 and you tell him that the weirdo was you and he’s like “no, you’re better than that” LMFAAOO THANKS HAJIME 😭

matsukawa his mom is there to pick the two of you up and he’s holding your hand as he turns to you, super concerned and goes “babe, we forgot my teeth 😞” HWJJCKWJSJEF 💀 he’s all pouty and its sooooooo cute LMFAO WHAT DID HE THINK A REMOVAL WAS??? but you play it cool and squeeze his hand and say “i didnt forget you though 😊” he nods like a little kid and says “yeah” and tries to pull you into his lap so that you can cuddle but his mom is right there and you’re tryna be a good passenger and stop him from unbuckling your seatbelt: issei, we can cuddle when we get home!!!!

this giant dude just looks at you all 🥺 and BEGS like “babe please, just a little, i just want to hold you 🥺💕” he tries to guilt trip you like “c’mon, babe, you forgot my teeth” 😭😭😭 STFU u somehow make it back to his place and he tackles you into the couch and promptly falls asleep in 2 minutes flat 😴 his mom thinks its hilarious and thanks u for taking care of him ☺️❤️

hanamaki straight up asks you if you have a boyfriend. you say yes and he gets REALLY SAD OH MY GOD and is all “oh ☹️🥺” but then you cup his cheek and hold one of his hands and start telling him what your boyfriend looks like and how he has cute strawberry hair and pretty eyes and how handsome he is and talking about his cute little eyebrows and how good he is at volleyball and takahiro is like…. 🧐🤨 is that…… me??? but then he’s like wait it couldn’t be and gets all sad again 😭

you can’t take how sad he is and tell him it’s him!!!!! you give him some kisses as an apology 😭🥺💖❤️ and he’s all really?!!? 🥰💖💕💝🥳💕as he pulls you close to rest his head on your chest. he asks you to talk about how much you love him again 😭🥰🥺 refuses to remove himself from you

kyoutani he’s got this super angry expression on his face and everyone stays a good ways away from him 😬 when you come in, you get the same 😡 but then he chills because you’re wearing that one dress he went out of his way to buy for you when you were window shopping together that one time and he’s like …..suspicious why is she wearing her dress 😒 HAJFKAKSW KENTAROU

but THEN he sees the bracelet he got you for your one year anniversary and takes a whiff of you (um 😷) and NOW he’s all WAIT…… connections r being made—he gets super handsy 😳💕 really likes it when you kiss his forehead 🥺 and glares daggers at the dentist with his head on your chest, arms around your waist as you stand next to him and listen to what the aftercare instructions are because he’s all like grrr my girlfriend!! no touch!!! 😡🤬

daichi omg daichi is SO SHY and BASHFUL like he looks at you all 🥺🥰 and when you look towards him he immediately looks away but it’s so obvious because his ears are red and you can see his blush high on his cheekbones 😭🥺💕 you ask him what’s wrong and he’s stuttering trying to ask if you have a boyfriend and you’re like yes 💔

his face FALLS and it hurts but then you show him your matching engagement rings 💍 like “we’re fiancés, dai 🥰❤️” and he almost cries as hard as when he heard you say yes 😭💖💕 he’s so EMBARRASSED when you show the video back to him 😭 suga and asahi clown him 🤧

sugawara fella wakes up, looks you in the eye and is like “they’ve rebuilt me, babe✨” what? “the technology!!!” ??? “they made me better than i was before: better, stronger, faster 🤖💪🧠" LMFAO thinks he underwent some experiment like no we just fixed your teeth 😌

when you tell him so he gets a little dejected and asks you if you’d still love him without any upgrades with his lips pursed and his cheeks pink as he plays with your hands 🥺💗 like OFC KOUSHI!!! 🥰🥺❤️ really sweet and giggly on the bus ride home—holds you close and draws circles on your skin as he talks about the strangest things 🙈💖

kageyama no inhibitions so tobio is very attached to you!!! when he wakes up to see you next to him, he grabs you in his half-asleep state to leave slobbery kisses all over you like some dog before he falls back asleep again 💀 he wakes up twenty minutes later to see that you’re gone (had to wash off his spit 😬) and he panics when he doesn’t see you 😭🥺

he gets up to try to look for you and the second you come back, he hugs you and is all ☹️ telling you “don’t go too far, i wanna always be able to find you 😠🥺” you rub his back and pinky promise to stay close by and he’s so relieved he falls asleep standing 😴💕 like …..thanks 🤧 asks if he can play volleyball and pouts rlly hard when the dentist says no 😭💔

atsumu atsumu is loopy af and he wanted to go to the washroom so the poor staff had to hull around this 6’2”, 80kg man around but then you walk in just as they’re about to turn the corner and the moment he sees you, he’s goes “BABIEEEEE, I loOoove yoU! 😍” in this super adorable, high pitched sing-songy voice and makes OBNOXIOUS kissy faces at you but it looks so funny because his mouth is full of cotton 😭😭🤧🥴 the nurses tell you he’s a keeper but then he promptly slips and nearly falls on his face trying to walk over to you unassisted 🙄

the walk to the car is SO HARD because he clings to you like a baby koala and whines when you try to get him to loosen up so that you can get better leverage to support his weight like atsumu pls we’re almost there, just let go for a bit and he’s all puppy eyed like “don’t 🥺 ya 🥺 love 🥺 me 🥺 baby???????? i jus’ wanna be close to ya 💔💔💔” JAJCJJWNCMS he denies all of it when he sobers up

osamu all this fool remembers is that he has a girlfriend and that she looks EXACTLY like you but his brain synapses aren’t working like they used to 😔 so he doesn’t remember that YOU are literally his girlfriend so he just sits there and goes all “you look so much like her….. i miss her sm 😢🤕😞” with this faraway look in his eyes AS IF YOU WERE DEAD 💀 THE DISRESPECT

he rlly wants to hold your hand and touch you but like u aren’t his girlfriend right??? but you tell him u are after rolling ur eyes and show him some photos of the two of you as proof and he’s all “oh!” 😳 and he smiles so broad you can see his little dimple on his left cheek 😭💖 because he can FINALLY hold your hand 🥰 no filter so he whisper-begs for kisses throughout the entire time the dentist talks you through his surgery and how to care for him and you’re so embarrassed JAJCJKAKDSS “pls, pls can i have a kiss” you give him one “can i have one here now” “what about here” “pls another one pls” 🥺🥺🥺 at least he’s polite JAJCNKAFB

suna rin remembers you and right when he wakes up to see you next to him he says, “hello, wife 💖" and waits for your response but like wtf do u SAY like you’ve only ever heard him tell you he loves you that ONE time he thought u were ASLEEP!!! and you haven’t even talked about anything beyond dating yet!!! is it the anaesthetic that’s making him say this or is he just fooling you??? 💀😵 a few minutes later, he sighs and goes “you’re supposed to say ‘hello, husband ❤️’….” 🙄🥱

show him the video after the anaesthetic wears off and he’ll sit there looking at you like “….well? i’m still waiting? 😐” ugH modern romance am i right HAHDJKAKSKAA

ushijima wakatoshi thinks you’re another nurse even though you’re dressed nothing like them and he asks you when his girlfriend is coming and if she knows he’s done with the procedure and also “have you met my girlfriend? she is very beautiful and very kind. you must meet her ☺️” he asks the same questions to the dentist who comes in to talk to you afterwards and they’re looking at him like ?????? “isn’t this your girlfriend, ushijima-san?”

wakatoshi just goes 😯, looks at you and says your name so softly and in the sweetest way possible and tells you he missed you and he loves you and he wants to go get curry from that one restaurant later and the dentist tells you they’ll be back later as you sob 😭😭❤️💕❤️😭💖

semi eita thinks you’re one of the office receptionists when you walk in and asks you if you, his girlfriend 💕, had been notified that the procedure was done and you’re all uh yes she does, she’s coming soon!! he nods very cutely and thanks you, handsome smile on his face at the thought of seeing you 🥰 he turns around to look at the window and you just stand there all 😶 he HUMS softly as he waits and it’s that one song he played for you on his guitar HAJXNJSW 😭🥺💘❤️

he turns back around thirty seconds later like “babe?? is that you?? you got here so fast 😍🥺💖😚” as if it wasn’t you THE WHOLE TIME 💀 melts when you kiss his cheeks tenderly 🥰 plays with your fingers as he softly looks into your eyes!! 😍

tendou really wants to get his wisdom teeth back like just because you pulled them out doesn’t make them yours, sensei 🙄 LMFAO the dentist gives him his teeth afterwards and he holds them out for you and you’re like “tysm for your bloody, gross teeth, satori 🥰😬” “AWWW you’re welcome 😊 aren’t they cute? ya think our kids will be this cute? 💖”

many thoughts: 1) oh god oh GOD he wants to have KIDS WITH YOU!! MARRIAGE??!? 😵❤️ 2) y does he think his molars r cute and y does he hope your kids will look like nasty teeth 😭💀 he’s rlly adamant about you lazing around with him. keeps showing u his teeth for some reason but gives the cutest smiles and hums when you feed him his fav chocolate ice cream 💗💗💗

goshiki he tries to flirt with you but its so funny and endearingly awkward because he’s got all the gauze in his mouth and he isn’t that good at it and he’s on the verge of tears half the time and you dont know why??? you ask him and his brows are all furrowed, pout on his lips and says “just wanna be your boyfriend pls 🥺💕” “yeah?” “yeah,” he nods. “i promise to do my best 🥺”

when you tell him you’re already dating, he starts to cry and is all like i have to tell all my friends 😭 tsutomu cries to the dentist like “sensei, y’know, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend 😭❤️” he quiets down when you brush through his hair with your hands ☺️

terushima you walk into his room after he’s done and ask the dental hygienists how he’s doing and he looks at you all confused like 🤨 and asks the hygienists who you are. they think you’re married for some reason and say “that’s your wife!” and you’re so EMBARRASSED but also super happy on the inside HAHA he straight up goes “DAAAMMNNN, I did alright, huh?! when we bustin’ outta here?!” 🤪😜🥴😘 as if he could actually differentiate between left and right, up and down 😔

just in case, he asks you if you’re his wife at the same time the dentist asks if the two of you will be okay from here on out and you nod to the dentist’s question but yuuji thinks it’s for him so he lays back down with this satisfied look on his face like HELL YEAH alright, alright, alright 😌🥰🥴 and does those little nods SIDJAJJDJSJFJR HAHAHAHA

sakusa omi lets you play with his bangs and hands as you wait for the dentist and he LOVES IT softest smile on his face!! RIDICULOUSLY CLINGY!!!! he does NOT want you to leave him at all, will not let you go to the bathroom even though you’re like “omi, please, the dentist is busy with another patient right now, i’ll be back soon before we go through the aftercare stuff” “no” “omi, i have to pee” “do it here” and now it’s you who’s all 🤢

gets really defensive and protective when the dentist comes in and just shoves his head in your chest because he doesn’t want to look at them LMFAO death grip around your waist 🤧 when you show him what he said about you going to the bathroom he demands you delete it “omi, i didn’t know u loved me that much 🥰🥺💕” “…………..🤐”

hoshiumi kourai insisted he was fine on his own “nothing is impossible for hoshiumi kourai, national athlete 😤” when the dentist asked if he needed someone to watch over him and the dentist is 🤨 ok sir and leaves after he falls asleep. when he wakes up, no one’s in his room and he has to use the washroom and he’s like i’ll do just it myself 🙄 he tries to stand and promptly collapses to the floor. he CRAWLS around on his stomach and makes it out of his room just as you walk in and you’re like KOU whY are you on the FLOOR like a ROACH 😭😭😭

it’s like you’re reenacting some dramatic romance movie as kou groans around the gauze and makes poor attempts to stand up, holding onto you LAKDSHLASKAHD 💀💀💀 asks you to get on the floor with him because he honest to god can’t get UP so that he can cuddle with you as the dentist and his assistants stand two feet away 🥰💕 tries to fight the staff when they get too close to you trying to help him get back to his bed HAJJFKAKDMAD

extra: kita shinsuke (lol) when kita finishes his wisdom tooth extraction, he looks at you like this and doesnt remember who you are; he thinks you’re here for another patient and doesn’t say a word to you because his grandma taught him not to talk to strangers.

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #hoshiumi kourai x reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader #goshiki tsutomu x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #semi eita x reader #tendou satori x reader #suna rintarou x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #terushima yuuji x reader

[itjazzbicch]

No Self Control

Pairing:  Daniel Garcia x Fem Reader

Summary: Always being teased by her fellow members of Team Taz, she decides to go after her deepest desires when she comes across her love interest, Daniel, in the club; neither of them having any self control when their moment sparks...

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (I just wanted to be real dirty yall lmfao)

(Also my first time writing for Daniel so I hope I did well!)

Requested by: No one (But I hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: 1443

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic   @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @whenimakeitshine1234

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF: 

My eyes couldn’t help but light up when I heard that swooning whistle that was like music to my ears. It made my knees weak and my face hot every time I heard it, eyes full of desire when Daniel walked past my table at the party, looking down at my dress and winking.

“Ooo,” Ricky whistled, sipping his drink; Hook having to add:

“Who you smiling at like that?”

“Smiling like what?” I tried to play off, but failed miserably.

“You act like we don’t know,” Ricky sighed, laughing at me.

Those two were like brothers to me, but ever since I started talking to Daniel, they either teased me or went into brother mode.

“You know, I’m always stuck with you two,” I noted, taking my drink and flipping my hair, “I’m going to hang with my girls.”

This club was really going, all of the girls out on the dance floor. I finished my drink first because with everyone on the floor, it was bound to be spilled. They knew how to put me in just the right mood to dance, the music flooding my ears and my brain absorbed every sound, taking control of me.

“About damn time you got out here!” Penelope smiled, taking my hand and guiding me to all of us girls on the dance floor, “Looks like you got eyes on you already.”

Even through a crowd of people, I could find Daniel’s eyes. I didn’t even make a move and he was watching with a smirk, waiting for more and I gladly gave that to him.

Penelope had already read my mind, twirling me around and giving me the little push I needed. The music flooded me all over again, my girls and I not afraid to dance, grinding with one another, truly having a fun time.

I ended up so lost in the music, confused with Penelope’s eyes popped with excitement, turning me around and when I felt familiar hands, I knew.

“Hope you saved some for me,” Daniel whispered in my ear, taking me away a bit while we swayed to the music.

His eyes were so alluring, the smirk on his face when I turned actually making my knees weak, but I matched his vibes, feeling how his fingers pressed deeper into my hips when I circled my hips nice and slow, grinding back into him, smiling:

“Think I’d give them my best when you’re here?”

“Your best, huh?” He smirked, licking his lower lip, “So nice of you to save it for me.”

“Wouldn’t want to give it to anyone else,” I turned to whisper back to him, a lush smile on my face while watching his reaction to my hips going round and round, able to feel is bulge grow with every touch and grind.

With smiles, we actually danced a little, but the temptations were vigorous, his hand sliding down to my inner thigh and keeping me against him; the only space between us being the arch of my back, his hands taking strong grips with a slight tremble.

“If you want a little more, all you have to do ask,” I giggled, a whisper past his ear, “Your hands are doing a lot of talking for you.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” He nibbled along my ear, “Just have this feeling that you’re going to say yes.”

Given the surroundings, I was able to blend in with all of the dancing, turning around and palming his hard on, smiling:

“Feeling all that, damn right yes is the answer.”

He knew how to blend in as well, but still bold and brave, a hand under my dress, squish my ass while his lips steamed against mine, “If we get off this dance floor, you can have an even better feel.”

“What are we waiting for then?” I giggled, informing when I felt him take another handful, “And I’m not wearing panties if you want to keep feeling.”

Given the invitation, his hand slid just a bit further, finger running through my folds and getting slicked, a soft bite capturing my lip and pulling a slight moan from me while it pushed into me slowly, the curling of his finger and a slight pump revealing the friction.

I could feel how he was fighting more urges, knowing we couldn’t do it right then and there. Nothing but dirty thoughts beaming through his eyes when he slipped out, keeping my hand while we snuck off of the dance floor.

Private dance room

Privacy was exactly what we need and despite that being a hands-off in the club, Daniel gladly made it ours, rushing in and locking the door.

“Are we even allowed in here?” I laughed and immediately got hit with heat, watching Daniel throw off his shirt and growl against my lips:

“Does it look like I give a fuck right now?”

I quickly shook my head, cupping his face and kissing hard, “But I know a fuck I do want to give right now.”

“I’m giving it to you,” He chuckled, quickly unbuttoning his pants, “You were tight around just my finger, let alone all this.”

“Ain’t my fault you keep turning me on,” I snickered, looking down and feeling his cock for myself, my hand having more than enough to explore and learn, “Now, you gonna give it to me or do I just have to use my hand?”

I got in a few quick strokes, still able to see able to see the heat in his face with the red neon lights against it, the salacity in his eyes beaming back into my gaze.

“You’re taking all of it,” He grinned, sending me back with giggles when he took my ankles and threw my legs up, giggles fading and converting into shrill; Daniel having the turn to laugh when I realized that was only half of his cock, the next shrill even louder when his hips smacked mine, “Every damn inch.”

The impact hit my stomach already, whimpering and enjoying it, squeezing him and able to feel every inch slide back down:

“Ooo, oh my god.”

“Squeezing the fuck out of me, Y/N,” He smiled, pushing my legs further away, hips putting immense amounts of power in every thrust, the chain straps of my chest falling, steaming skin unfamiliar to the coldness, making a breath seize on my chest, choking on moans.

“D-Daniel-l,” I choked, whining hard at his cock hitting every sensitive bump up to my deepest point, massive pressure smacking my clit, able to grab the back of his neck and pull him to a kiss, “I don’t think we’ll be able to stop with you fucking me this good.”

“I know how to lay it down, baby,” He was proud of, eyes turning to see one of my heels pop off, smiling against the moans hitting his lips, “Have fun trying to walk in those later.”

“I don’t care,” I cried, head dropping back when he pushed my legs forward, a pinch in my lower core, “I’m only worried about one thing right now!”

“What’s that, hm?” He toyed, knees hooking onto his shoulders, kisses leading to nips at my jaw and down my neck, hands taking a base on the back of the lounge booth, “Should’ve known the moment you put that ass on me that I’d end up fucking you like this.”

“Mhm!” I whined, gasping at my walls pulsating around him, all of the skin to skin more sensitive and hot, the coil that held my orgasm ready to snap, “I knew you’d be so fucking good!”

Momentarily he looked down, a proud chuckle along with our kiss while he kept pounding his hips into mine, giving almost no space, pointing out, “Got me trapped down here. Gonna cum already?”

I nodded quickly, words failing to form and turning into babbles, becoming harder to breathe, closing my eyes tight to try and focus, but seeing stars and white dots flying everywhere, that coil splitting like fragile hairs.

“I’m cuming, Danny!” That’s all I could get out before my mind was spent spiraling, nothing but moans flying when my hips jerked and I came undone, high off of the feeling.

“Got damn, baby,” He huffed, keeping my knees pinned against the couch, getting the last series of thrusts he had left in him, vision going from black to red and fixing on his face, a little worn, but still as sexy as usual.

“I never liked being impatient so much,” I cooed, smiling as I was given a kiss:

“I just can’t control myself around you.”

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling oneshot #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #aew smut #aew oneshot #daniel garcia #daniel garcia x reader #daniel garcia imagine #daniel garcia fic #daniel garcia smut #daniel garcia oneshot #read and enjoy

[odetojeons]

What Tigers Do — Kwon Soonyoung

request: hi! i just came across your recent joshua imagine and omg IT WAS REALLY GOOD😭, would you be able to do a dom!hoshi with a breeding kink, please? already in love with your blog<3

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!hoshi, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, reader insert, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), established hoshi x reader

a/n: accidently spent the night writing this lmfao, i was going to only start a bit but got too caught up on it :’) btw this goes from cute to sexy real quick to cute again, but anyways, i hope you like it!!

word count:  3329

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“Another plushie?” you ask as soon as Soonyoung enters inside the room, holding plastic bags in a hand and a tiger plushie in the other. He pretends he didn’t listen, but you continue anyways. “You know that you have a lot of those already, right? They are only collecting dust.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Why not have more?” Soonyoung asks instead, like that would make all the sense.

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“Because,” you start, getting up from the sofa and walking across the living room until you’re right in front of your boyfriend. He towers over you easily, but the way he averts his eyes elsewhere makes him look so small. “You only ever use a few. The rest is sitting somewhere getting musty and you take forever to clean them.”

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Soonyoung pouts. You sigh; it means that he knows you’re right but he’s too stubborn to say it. Grabbing one of his hands, he stops unpacking the stuff he bought and looks at you.

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“You like tigers that much?” you question softly, and he nods a little. Soonyoung puts his plastic bags on the ground and makes a grab for your waist, pulling you up against him.

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The action is a bit sudden, although welcome, and you yelp in surprise when you lend against his chest. You look up and catch Soonyoung smiling down at you like you’re the most endearing thing he has ever seen.

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“Of course I do,” he tells, watching your face attentively. “You said I look like one.”

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You don’t know why his words make you blush, but you feel heat creeping up at your cheeks and tinting them a light shade of red. 

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“You don’t.”

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Soonyoung chuckles softly at your reaction.

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“So cute,” he comments before you rip that attitude out of him by tickling his sides. He contorts himself and laughs harder, head thrown back. “Stop it!”

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Soonyoung somehow manages to catch one of your wrists, using that as leverage to push you against the entrance door. You groan slightly in pain when Soonyoung pins you down against the wood frame, his chest heaving and a bright, warm smile on his lips.

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“Not fair you’re bigger,” you mumble with a pout.

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“Should’ve eaten more rice if you wanted to be taller than me,” Soonyoung says, still trying to catch his breath, and fuck… he looks so handsome like this, with the collar of his shirt hanging low and exposing the beginning of his — very nice and very big — chest, blonde hair all over the place, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling like he holds all the galaxy in them and you feel like your heart will burst really soon.

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You lick your lips nervously, watching Soonyoung’s eyes flicker to catch the movement, and try to move your hands free. But Soonyoung is not letting go, suddenly gripping your wrists harder. The action makes you gasp slightly, the quick change in the air leaving you breathless.

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“Admit you think I look like a tiger,” Soonyoung says, more like orders, and you whine at the intensity of his eyes. 

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“No,” comes your answer, and he frowns at you, body pressing against yours until you’re sandwiched between him and the door. “Gonna have to prove it to me first.”

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Soonyoung’s eyes flash with something you’re very familiar with; it makes a burning heat pool at your lower stomach alarmingly fast and you want to close your legs. But Soonyoung is faster, steps completely into your personal space and crowds you tight against the door, the air growing heavier and thicker by the second. You bask in the warmness of him, his firm body so pressed into yours that you’re afraid he can feel your stuttering heartbeat.

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The soft drag of your chest against his every time you inhale and exhale is also not helping at all, and you can’t help but slightly move your hips forward, trying to rub off on his thigh. Soonyoung catches your neediness easily, of course, and he smirks before his face gets closer and closer until his breath is mingling with yours.

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“Careful with what you wish,” Soonyoung says, voice low and teasing. He drags his lips into yours, so softly it has you whining and trying to kiss him. “Might as well end up eating you.”

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You smirk back at him, biting at his lower lip before dragging your tongue to soothe the pain.

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“What makes you think I don’t want that?”

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Soonyoung growls. It catches you off guard, it always does since it sounds downright animalistic, but you can’t dwell on the hotness of it too much because he’s kissing you without mercy. Soonyoung kisses you like a starved man, teeth clacking and tongue pressing against yours until you’re putty and breathless just for him.

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You whine into the kiss, feels like Soonyoung’s drawn the breath right out of your lungs, your mind hazy.

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It only serves to rile him up, the kiss hungrier, messier, his tongue licking into your mouth as if you might disappear and fingers digging into your wrists harder in his desperation, before he let’s go of one of them to sneak a hand in your waist.

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Now free, your digits desperately come up to take a fistful of his hair, in dire need of holding something, anything. Soonyoung groans at the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp, pulling your lower part closer so he could rut against your belly. You go easily into it, and Soonyoung’s half hard cock presses on your stomach, so hot it makes you whine. 

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“Fuck,” he curses, affected with the drag of his cock in your skin. Soonyoung circles his arm around you to lift you higher, almost taking you off of the ground as he thrust now against your clit.

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It takes you off guard, the way he’s holding you with one arm alone — not your fault your boyfriend looks so hot when he’s all hot and bothered like this. The press against your sensitive cunt makes you moan and throw your head back, hearing him groan at the sight of your neck bared for him.

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You laugh.

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“What’s so funny?” Soonyoung asks, hips canting up firmly and mouth glued to the exposed skin of your neck.

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“Fine, I will admit it,” your voice breaks into a moan when he fucks up just right. “You look like a tiger.”

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You pull his head back by the grip you have on his hair, looking him deep in the eyes.

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“A tiger in heat.”

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You feel the growl before you even hear it, Soonyoung’s chest rumbling with the sheer intensity of it, eyes darkening and pupils blown wide with lust. His strong earthy smell — due to his cologne you love so much and are so familiar with — burns your lungs as if on cue. He looks drowned in such a dark desire you feel it to your bones; your brain begging, clawing at you to submit, submit, submit, because my boyfriend will make me feel so good. 

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“Yeah?” Soonyoung says, and you would find it funny how a simple word could make you shiver so hard, if it weren’t for how horny you are. He lets go of you completely, pressing a hand on your shoulder, and you know very well what he wants you to do.

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Your knees touch the ground, your face now centimeters apart from Soonyoung's fully hard cock. You take a moment to look at how it presses against the fabric of his jeans, mouth already salivating in need.

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“Would that make you my kitten, then?” Soonyoung asks, watching like a hawk when you moan, mouth pressing against the outline of his prominent cock. The pet name is something new, but you sure are keen on it already. “Oh, you like that.”

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Soonyoung reaches down and opens the zipper of his jeans, unbuttoning his pants until he has enough space to pull his cock out. He holds on your chin, bringing your face closer and closer until he could press his manhood against your cheek. In your haze and impatience, you push more against his cock, trying to get it inside your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He laughs and you blush at your own desperation.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Such a dirty little kitten,” Soonyoung feeds you the fat head of his cock, and you moan in relief when you feel the familiar salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva. “Suck me off good and maybe I’ll give you a reward.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod a bit desperately, at least the best you can with your position, and relax your throat in order to take more of him inside. He’s big and his thickness doesn’t help, but you do your best to put as much as you can in your mouth, hand coming to jerk off the part that doesn’t fit there.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Mouth’s always so fucking good,” Soonyoung moans out, watching you bob your head on his cock. He kicks his hips a little, just to be a bit mean and watch tears gather in the corner of your eyes. “Do you know what tigers do when they’re in heat, hm, kitten?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, expecting it would convey your answer when you are too occupied sucking him off. Soonyoung groans at the vibration, hold tight and unforgiving in your hair.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“They breed their mates,” he says and holy fuck, you felt a shiver rocking all over your body, throat convulsing when you try to take him further than you can. You pull out, coughing a little, but take him back inside as soon as you catch your breath. “Would you like that? Be stuffed full of cum until it’s oozing out of your hole.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s this unbearable urge to come that has you reaching your clit and rubbing at it furiously, by the same time that Soonyoung impulses his hips forward and fucks your mouth relentlessly for a few times.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Stop,” he tells you, and you moan in frustration, especially when he pulls out of your mouth and jerks himself off in front of you. Not fair.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“A-are you gonna cum on my face?” you question instead, blinking at him in hopes he says yes, but he only smirks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“No,” Soonyoung answers simply, grabbing your arm and pulling you up. He holds you tight, which you’re thankful for because your legs feel jittery. Then, he smooths a hand in your belly. “Rather put my cum in here.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan at his lewd remark.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, you’re so dirty—” your sentence gets cut off in the middle with your own little yelp of surprise when he holds the back of your thighs and lifts you off of the ground, your legs circling around his waist so you don’t fall. “Soonyoung—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna breed you like you deserve,” Soonyoung says, voice rough, and you hold him tighter when you realize he’s taking you to the bedroom.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He throws you on the bed, your body bouncing on the soft mattress as you watch Soonyoung take his clothes off. You never get tired of seeing him and his dancer-like body, especially on this kind of occasion, because his chest looks sinful when it’s flushed red and sweaty. Your eyes soon fall downwards though, looking at his hard, leaking cock. It’s such a pretty cock, a beautiful shade of pink and it almost doesn’t have veins.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung notices your hunger and laughs softly, getting in the bed with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Like my cock that much you can’t even stop staring at it?” he teases, pressing against your clit. Your cheeks heat up with shame and arousal, Soonyoung’s hand creeping up your body and going inside your shirt — technically, his shirt, which you borrowed from his closet, and you know that’s the only reason why you’re still not naked. “Hmm, love it when you use my clothes.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He sighs against your throat when he cants his cock up against your clothed cunt.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want you to smell only like me,” Soonyoung admits, kissing down your neck. He pulls your shirt up until it’s above your chest, so he can suck one of your nipples into his mouth. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours—” you breathe out, a whine escaping your lips when Soonyoung sucks a hickey right above your left breast. “All yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He groans, too desperate to care when he accidentally rips your panties in the process of taking them off. You would complain, but the protest dies in your throat when Soonyoung sucks a finger into his mouth and rubs against your entrance, mumbling something among the lines of “fucking drenched”. He pushes it past the ring of muscles just slightly, knows you could take it easily since you’ve fucked in the morning, yours and Soonyoung’s sex drive shooting through roof lately.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ �� ⠀

Soonyoung shifts, mouth working it’s way down your stomach, tasting the cloying sweetness of your skin as he licks and bites at it. He wants to cover you with marks and the thought has you squirming underneath him, moaning when he adds another finger.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“G-give me more, come on,” you say, impatient to have him inside already.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So impatient,” Soonyoung tsks, grabbing your jaw tight. “That’s not how you ask.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, p-please, ah—” your sentence breaks into a moan when you feel another finger prodding against your entrance, squirming when Soonyoung’s hand works furiously inside you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Electricity runs up your spine when the pad of his finger hits just right in your sweet spot, your body jolting upward on the bed and head falling back in pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“S-Soonyoungie,” you whine, hands fisting into the sheets. “Stop t-teasing.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t know if you deserve that, kitten,” he hums instead, pressing persistently against your sweet spot. “Haven’t heard you begging for my cum yet.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Soonyoung,” you’re nearly in tears, little cries muffled when you bite on your lip, and it’s so good but you just want his cock. “Please, Soonyoungie. Want— Want it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want what?” Soonyoung asks, unfazed with your pleading. He wants to hear the exact words coming out of your mouth. “Tell me, kitten, come on.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-want,” you try to focus your eyes on him, and you notice he’s looking at you like he’s ready to pounce on you. “Want your cum.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung hums, pleased.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Breed me, please,” you squeeze around his fingers. “Breed me full of your cum.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shit, fuck,” it’s a haze from there; Soonyoung takes off your shirt, also almost ripping it in the process, and turns you over. He grips your hips and pulls your ass up, a hand pressing your face down into the pillow. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

For a moment you think you’re in for more teasing but the head of Soonyoung’s cock prods inside your entrance and knocks the breath right out of you. He kisses your nape as he pushes all the way in, cock throbbing inside of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking hot and tight,” Soonyoung groans, grinding into your tight heat and you’re incapable of words, mind utterly blank, mouth hung open. He pulls back enough to fuck right back into you, sending your body foward in the bed with the sheer intensity of it. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

——————————

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can only whine and whimper, face buried into the curve of his neck. It feels like you can’t even hold yourself up, Soonyoung supporting you by the grip he has on your ass, and he angles your body so he could fuck into you even deeper. It has you seeing stars, mind focused on the feeling of the drag of his cock inside you and the pleasant oversensitivity on your cunt.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You already came around four times and Soonyoung is a little behind with two times. You just know it’s something about his dancer stamina, it must be, with the way he still has the strength to hold you on his lap and fuck into you almost brutally. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Somewhere in the back of your mind you think he has never been this set on filling you up, if the lewd squelch of cum echoing through the room every time he fucks inside you is anything to go by. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Such a good fucking pussy, swallowing me up,” Soonyoung tells you, watches how your mouth gets more open at the comment, and leans to lick into it. His mind is fuzzy, can’t think of anything beyond putting his cum inside you. “Gonna breed you until you’re swelling with my cum, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung knows it’s unrealistic — also because you’re on the pill — but he can’t help but get lost in the thought. He fucks into you faster, groaning at how tight you feel, sloppy and wet and so so so good for Soonyoung.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you reply intelligibly, don’t know what you’re saying yes for, but Soonyoung groans and bites on your neck, tongue soothing at it later.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah, you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he breathes out, voice ragged with effort and he’s right, you do love taking it. “Pretty little kitten.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You squeeze around Soonyoung’s cock in answer to the praise, enjoying the way his hips stutter at the feeling of your walls suffocating him. He slows down, fucks into you languidly, dragging his length in and out at a torturous pace. It makes you go livid, the burn of your release ebbing away. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re lucid enough to take in how fucking hot and ethereal he looks. The way his skin glistens with the dim light of the room, cheeks flushed red from all the effort and pupils blown wide with lust. Just looking at Soonyoung makes you want to squirm.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“S-so full,” you comment appreciatively, gasping with the way he grinds inside you. “Make me fuller, please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung growls; he picks up the pace after that, fucking into your sharp and fast, the sweetness of your “ah, ah, ah!” falling in sync with the sound of his balls slapping your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He presses your back down on the mattress, body completely engulfing yours and a hand firmly wrapped around your waist as he drills into you. You silently thank him for being such a great dancer because he’s hips are like magic, hitting your sweet spot dead on and it has the burn in your lower stomach building higher and higher.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna— gonna c-cum,” you cry out, body thrashing on the bed before your arms circles around his back and brings him impossibly close.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come on, kitten,” he tells, hips hammering inside you unforgivably. “Go ahead.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You sob as you come, back arching off of the bed and head thrown back. It’s less intensive than the others you had before but somehow it feels even better, cunt clenching around Soonyoung so hard he stills momentarily, rubbing at your sensitive clit to help you out with your orgasm. You forget where you are, chest heaving and mind numb, but you still want Soonyoung to come inside you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he seems to think the same because he fucks you right after your back melts against the bed again, thrusts erratic as he grips you so tight he knows it’s gonna be bruised the next day.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Soonyoung curses, desperate for release, and the oversensitivity leaves you crying. But you still manage to catch a breath to encourage him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want your cum— oh,” your words get stuck when Soonyoung fucks inside you one more time before halting his hips. And then you feel it, another hot surge of cum filling you up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

They moan in unison, bodies falling limp on the bed as he grinds a few times through his orgasm. You wish you could keep it all inside you forever, fingers intertwining with Soonyoung’s.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The touch has him lifting his head from where it lays beside yours and looking at you with soft eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he says with a tired, but fond smile. Soonyoung moves a little so he can give you a peck in the lips. “So much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You bask in the feeling of being in his arms. So warm, so inviting, so home. Kwon Soonyoung is your home.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you too.”

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagine #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #hoshi smut #hoshi x reader #hoshi #hoshi imagine #soonyoung smut #soonyoung

[navegandoaciegas]

Cloud nine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, watersports, dom/sub undertones, dom!bucky, sub!reader, reader calls bucky daddy, creampie.

Summary: You’ve never had an orgasm during sex, and Bucky is determined to make you come, no matter how unusual your request may be.

A/N: I have no words lmfao just- don’t read if pee bothers you please.

Frustration pooled in your stomach, festering on your negative emotions.

Bucky slumped beside you, cheeks flushed, drool and sweat all over his face as he clinged to your chest, catching his breath.

You’d been going at it for hours, and he’d fucked you in all the positions on the book, changing pace and angles to hit every spot inside you until he’d come in your aching cunt more times than humanly possible and you’d run yourself dry.

He’d praised you, degraded you, slapped you, kissed your tears, made soft love to you and fucked you like a rag doll, fingered you until his fingers cramped and wrinkled, and you hadn’t come.

You always treaded the edge, so close yet so far from reaching the crest of your high, only to fall back down without ever being able to let yourself crash.

“Sorry,” he panted softly in the crook of your neck, right hand tracing soothing circles on your hip.

“‘S not your fault.”

“I know, I just-”

He interrupted himself with a huff, drowning his unspoken words in your skin.

You’d had this conversation numerous times before.

It wasn’t him, as no other partner had ever been able to make you cum either. They hadn’t even cared enough to worry about it.

It wasn’t you either, nothing in your anatomy, at least.

You liked Bucky, you desired him. Just looking at him too long made the walls of your cunt throb uncontrollably. And you had no trouble making yourself cum on your fingers, even without any toy or porn involved, just the thought of him and his fat cock inside you.

You’d been dating for months now, and he hadn’t given you a single orgasm yet.

You could see it begin to tear down his confidence, flooding his mind with insecurities he’d confided you with, how he feared you’d leave him for someone better, or you’d tire of him and move on.

With a bitter smile you’d replied that he’d be the one to leave for a better partner he could pleasure, and from then on Bucky hadn’t mentioned it anymore, but you could see the doubts plaguing his mind, twisting and turning his thoughts in grey clouds, draining him everytime he came and you didn’t.

You felt broken, and he felt guilty.

You needed to find a solution, and you needed to do it fast.

-

Your therapist was a nice woman, stern when needed and caring at times, and yet you couldn’t fucking stand her whenever she repeated the same sentence that your gynecologist had told you already.

The more you worried about your orgasm, the harder it would be to cum.

An easy concept to grasp if you weren’t the one struggling, if orgasms came as easy as eating and breathing.

You huffed in frustration, one hand in your sweatpants as you lazily fondled with your clit, the other scrolling through a porn website, looking for a video that would get the job done for you, eager to release the stress of your day at work.

You scrolled through staged videos that would only aggravate you, women who squealed loud enough to hurt your eardrums and men too rough for your liking. Pov’s, plumbers and housewives, gangbangs, vintage and fake taxis.

You could feel the irritation build up inside you when, reached the 23rd page, you hadn’t found a video that would satisfy you yet.

Famous pornstars, amateurs, thousands of bytes of porn that made your thumb scrolling on your phone cramp, until you stumbled upon a video with a title so debauched that you felt compelled to click on it.

And so, an idea, admittedly not your best one, began to form in your head as your fingers worked your clit furiously to bring you over the edge.

Bucky had been surprisingly eager to try it out when you’d mentioned it whilst you brushed your teeth on a random morning, excited even, almost as if he’d meant to ask all along and never built the courage to.

You’d tried a lot of things, and you had nothing to lose at this point. So, you’d lined your mattress with plastic sheets, and hoped for the best.

-

Soft lips nipped your neck, peppering the column of your throat with wet kisses.

You registered the sheets rustling beneath you and Bucky’s silky hair tickling you.

You blinked your bleary eyes, adjusting yourself to the gentle morning light seeping through the blinds, painting your room in intricate shadows.

“Mornin’,” you croaked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Like every time that Bucky spent the night at your place, you’d wake up to his lips and hands all over you.

“G’mornin’, princess,” he mumbled, hands getting bolder, hiking up your thighs.

It didn’t take long for Bucky’s touch to ignite the fire in your core, warmth pooling in your lower belly as he cupped your cunt over your shorts.

He pulled away from your neck to look at you in the eyes, pupils dilated by desire.

Bucky was always so eager, pouncing on you at any chance he got. He was especially needy on weekend mornings, where he could take his time with you and make love to you until he’d be exhausted and you’d be, well, happy to participate.

His hand slipped under your shorts, lazily stroking your clit, still swollen from the night before.

“Already so wet for me?” he noted, gathering your wetness on his fingertips and smearing it over your sensitive bud.

A breathy gasp escaped your parted lips, followed by many others as he continued to work your cunt. Your walls throbbed in anticipation, and you bit your lips, eager for his cock to fill you to the brim.

Bucky continued peppering your neck, clavicles, chest with kisses, hiking your t-shirt over your tits before he attacked your nipples with his mouth.

It felt like being on cloud nine, having him take care of you so good, brain turned to mush as you let him do anything he wanted to you.

The same negative thoughts that swirled in your mind everytime you had sex with Bucky flashed behind your eyes for a fleeting moment, reminding you of how you wouldn’t come even this time, despite your efforts. You willed yourself to focus on the moment, on the small jolts on electricity in your cunt, on your hardening nipples, and heaving chest.

His warm mouth latched on your nipples, suckling them between his teeth, tongue swirling on them.

“Bucky please,” you whined, growing impatient with his teasing, “Fuck me already, please.”

He chuckled, head buried between your tits.

“Careful when you talk to me, little girl.”

“Or what?”

A mischievous grin spread on his face as he descended down, tongue tracing your stomach, belly, hip bones, peppering kisses and bruises until he reached your silk shorts.

He threw one more look at you before biting the fabric and slowly tugging it down your legs.

You kicked the shorts away and spread your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to Bucky’s hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, resuming back to sucking bruises on the soft skin of your inner thighs, “Such a pretty pussy, princess.”

Fire spread through your body when his warm breath hit your lips, and the anticipation before he closed his mouth on your clit sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck yourself on my mouth, baby girl. Show daddy how good you are to him, how much you want his cock, hm?”

You didn’t need to be told twice, and started grinding your hips on his face while he lapped at your folds, drinking up your arousal.

A soft sigh, followed by a hiss and a high pitched moan were ripped out of you when Bucky pushed two fingers past your entrance, curling them inside you.

You continued the steady rhythm, fucking yourself on his face until the familiar tension began building in your cunt.

“Just like that daddy,” you shrieked, “Make me cum, please, please.”

You kept going, speeding your movements, chasing your release, thighs quivering around his head, reaching higher, and higher, and-

And then it was gone, snuffed like a weak flame in the wind.

You tugged on Bucky’s hair, and brought his face to yours in a desperate kiss, slanting your mouth against his. You tasted yourself on his tongue, tangy and musky.

He ground his hips on you, growing more and more desperate by the second.

He never lasted long in the morning.

“Fuck me, daddy, please, wanna feel your cock inside me,” you whined, wiggling your hips.

“Can’t say no to you, princess.”

He had such a pretty cock, not too big, veiny and flushed. You wanted him in your mouth, in your pussy, between your tits. You wanted him whole, and it frustrated you so much that despite your wants you couldn’t satiate your needs.

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, and pushed his cock inside you with one swift motion, until you were full to the brim and his balls slapped against your ass.

He hauled your thighs over his shoulders, folding you under his weight.

“So tight,” he spat through gritted teeth, fighting against the urge to burst as you snapped your hips up.

One of his forearms rested laid your head while the other hand came to rest on your neck, not cutting off your air but as a clear warning to stop moving around.

“Move, please” you begged, mind hazy with pleasure.

It always felt so good when his cock stretched you out, when it rubbed on your gummy walls, a ring of white cream pooling just above his balls.

It always felt good, and that’s why you hated it. It always gave you the illusion that this time you’d come, just this once you’d overcome your problem and have an earth shattering orgasm like you deserved.

His cock kept hitting all the spots inside you, your walls pulsating around him, suffocating him in a tight grip.

“Daddy? Can we- can we try that thing?” you moaned, sneaking a hand between your bodies to furiously rub your swollen clit.

“Yes, fuck, that’s so hot, God, I’m gonna do it, okay?” he grunted, picking up the pace of his pace, harder, faster, spurred on by your high pitched shrills, until his movements grew sloppier.

“Ask me nicely,” he snarled, furrowing his brows and gritting his teeth.

“Piss inside me, daddy. Use me like the fuckin’ dirty whore I am.”

The room was filled with the squelching sounds of his balls hitting your ass and your drooling pussy. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he came gripping your thighs so hard it would surely leave a mark.

His cum spilled inside you while your walls milked every last drop.

You closed your eyes, willing your body to relax as he rested his head on your chest. His hand shoed yours away, roughly rubbing your clit.

You could feel his cock go soft inside you, his warm cum spilling out of your pussy.

It was building up inside you, the tension from before. You hiked high, and higher, and your legs were shaking, body shook by jolts of electricity.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his teeth.

You moaned, his name on your tongue like a chant.

And then, Bucky sighed, eyes shutting in bliss as he released inside you.

Never in your life has you felt quite as warm, or full, as his searing hot piss filled you in from the inside, invading your cunt and overflowing out of you.

So hot, so full, so high that you couldn’t smell the pungent scent of his piss or hear anything other than your frenzied heartbeat in your ears.

“Daddy, daddy, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And then you were cumming around his soft cock so hard that your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Your body twitched and spasmed as a long awaited orgasm wrecked through you, wiping your mind blank for several seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, Bucky’s soft smile greeted you. Everything felt hazy, like having your head underwater and cotton in your mouth.

He nuzzled your nose, picking your limp body from the bed and carrying you to the bathroom.

“Daddy is so proud of you, princess.”

-

Not proofread sorry 😬

Please reblog and leave a comment if you can! 🥰

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n

[legends-of-apex]

‘Finally’ - Kung Lao x Reader (smut)

Rating: 18+ for smut

Word count: 5,000 words (I know it’s a lot, lmfao)

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long!! Just really wanted to make it good :D there’s so little written for him that I just had to! In short, Kung Lao and the reader have been pining for one another for months and finally decide to do something about it. This fic contains both fluff and smut. Reader is AFAB. Hope you all enjoy, please feel free to let me know what you think and thank you for reading :D

You were trapped between him and the table. His arms on either side of you, braced against the table’s edge so he could lean down to your level where you sat. “It’s very rude you know. To tease your friends.” His eyes held a challenge, a sprinkle of mischief that never seemed to leave when he was with you.

“We were never just friends though were we?”

You weren’t sure why a sudden burst of boldness had overcome you. Perhaps it had something to do with the absolutely unbearable frustration that had been training with him mere moments ago. You were both so distracted by one another and intent on teasing with small jesters and jabs that you couldn’t take it for another minute, delighted when the sudden appearance of the moon relieved the necessity to train. You couldn’t be sure exactly what had sparked it that day but one thing you were sure of was that you wanted him. And you needed him to know that.

It was selfish. Of course it was, but something deep within your gut was begging you to just do something about the way you felt.

“Sounds like you’ve been having some improper thoughts.” He was joking but his voice held little semblance of his usual jest, the tone soft almost timid as he took one of your hands in his and brought your knuckles to his lips. He looked as though he was almost apologetic for having such an effect on you.

Romantic affection and other such distractions weren’t permitted by Raiden. But right now, being so close to Kung Lao, you couldn’t have cared less about what Raiden did or did not permit. His scent was all around you, coupled with the dirt from the fight pit where a kick had sent him tumbling. You swallowed hard, attempting to calm the strange feeling in your stomach in response to his affection.

“Most of my thoughts of you are improper.” That was it then, you’d finally done something that feeling. It was pointless pretending like you didn’t care for one another. You were done with this, done with the longing glances and the pining.

Moving your hand away from his lips so he could speak, he instead pressed your palm to the red dragon enshrined on his chest plate. You were so close together now that he seemed to have a hard time concentrating on your eyes, his gaze instead directed towards your lips. “Perhaps some meditation might remedy the issue.” His tone held absolutely no sense that he meant or likely even knew what he was saying. He was far too focused on drinking the image of you this close to him into his mind.

“It just…” you allowed yourself to lean in closer to him so your lips almost grazed his as you held his cheek in your free hand,”...doesn’t quite scratch the itch.”

“Oi, if you two are going to fuck in here at least let me get in on the action!” Kano’s grating drawl cut straight through whatever moment you had.

Lao moved to stand up straight and likely confront him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, but you took hold of his forearm, silently asking him to stay. The both of you turned your heads to glare at the man and for once he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, “Well, worth a try! I’ll leave you to it. Don’t fuck on the table, we gotta eat there tomorrow!” With that, he left.

As soon as Kano rounded the corner, Lao turned back to face you and before he could even register it, you pressed your lips to his. The exchange was soft, sudden. But you felt him smile into the kiss and cup your cheek with his hand. His lips were so gentle. You couldn’t help but sigh when he deepened the kiss just a little, clearly testing where the boundary lay. You had both been holding back so much for so long, and yet you held back still for now.

When you pulled back for a little air, you kept your cheek pressed against his, wanting him close. “Finally,” you whispered and he smiled once more. The tension between you felt like it had finally subsided, even just a little. You pulled away a little more to get a better look at him, admire him in his hazy state. “Finally,” he agreed.

That one singular word was enough to reassure you that he’d had the same issues you had for a while now. You had been pining for him from the moment you met him when you first entered the temple. His cheeky smile and bold words had you hooked. Not to mention literally everything else about him. And you had noticed, the way he looked at you sometimes like he was gazing at the stars. The quick glances at dinner or in training that sometimes weren’t all that quick or subtle. The softest of touches when your fingers grazed his when he would pass you a plate or fill your glass with water without you having to ask him to pass the jug. The way Lui Kang would shake his head at him whenever Lao was a little too excited to help you with something or even just to spend time with you. All of this and more should have told you that he’d felt the same, but you were far too engrossed in the potential scandal of it all to put two and two together. Lord Raiden would surely have your heads for falling prey to such distractions and for breaking Kung Lao’s vows.

“So what now?” You asked him, hoping, just silently praying that he’d take the hint of how much you needed him right now. Hell, you’d have dropped to your knees before him there and then if you could be sure Kano wouldn’t interrupt. He pulled back from you, extending to his full height once more, grabbing his hat and offering you his hand to take.

“What would you like to do?” He asked, his face held a look of almost pleading but his pride and the public setting wouldn’t let him do so. It was then as he held his hand out to you in invitation that you noticed just how tightly the thin leather cords were tied around his upper arms and how wonderfully under stress the cord seemed right now. One side of his mouth quirked up into a smile like he could hear exactly what your mind was screaming, he saw you admiring his thick arms. He had done many times. The slight hitch in your throat at his question too told him everything he needed to know about what you wanted right now but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I think….” You took his hand, trailing your finger over the centre of his large palm before entwining your fingers with his, “That we should take this somewhere a little more private. I mean unless you want Kano to join..”

He looked like he wanted to devour you. His chest heaved a little, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you rose from your place at the table. He couldn’t speak properly, couldn't believe you truly wanted this with him. So many days spent pining for one another yet he still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that you wanted him, not Liu Kang or anyone else, him. You tugged on his hand lightly, yanking him out of his thoughts and towards your bedroom.

As you hastily unlocked your room with your keys, he couldn’t help but place only the faintest of kisses along your neck from where he stood behind you. His hands found your waist and circled round to meet at your middle, your back pulled flush against his chest. You were so beyond touch starved that even the faintest of touches had you in pieces. You couldn’t help the soft moans that slipped from your lips when he bit down on your skin ever so gently. And he couldn’t help what hearing that sweet sound did to him.

When you flung the door open and tugged him inside, all bets were off about being reserved. His hands were all over you, trying to make up for the lost time that he could have been touching you. Kicking the door shut behind you, you pulled him against you once more. Desperate to have him close. The metallic rattle of his hat hitting the floor rang throughout the room. His lips were far less gentle on yours now and you loved every second of it. A slight nip of his bottom lip between your teeth had him groaning. Such a gorgeous sound. He had you pinned against the door in his efforts to be near you. You were thankful as it gave you just enough leverage to hike your leg over his hip. He took that as his queue to lift your other leg up too, bracing you against the door with his strong arms supporting you.

At the new angel, he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss, light bite and after light bite to your soft flesh. You dragged your fingers through his dark hair, careful not to undo the red ribbon he had so carefully tied. A gasp escaped you when he kissed his way down to your chest, mouthing his way over any exposed skin he could find.

You wanted to tell him to just take you then and there. To shove your underwear aside and have you against your bedroom door. But his stature was far more caring than that right now. He was wound tightly, the hardness against your thigh told you that much. So much pent up tension between the two of you and yet he treated you as though you were glass. You’d soon fix that.

“Bed. Please.”

He carefully carried you towards your bed and set you down, mouth never leaving your skin as he did. When he released you to remove his robes you couldn’t help but stare at him. Of course, you’d seen him bare-chested in training many a time before, but it was a view of which you would never tire. His chest was strong and broad, the muscles were defined and well-worked but benefitted from a soft layer above them so his skin was soft to the touch. You couldn’t help it, dragging your fingers over his chest and stomach. You felt each shiver that wracked through him at your touch and revelled in the way his chest heaved from your fingertips alone.

His hand came to shadow your own, near dwarfing it beneath his as he held your palm over his heart as he had done mere minutes before, “Are you sure you want this?” His voice was low, heavy with want, but gentle. You could see the desperation in his eyes. You shared it too.

“More than anything.” You replied, and he smiled, taking your hand and carefully pressing your knuckles to his warm lips for a long moment as though he was almost praying to you. Butterflies spread throughout your stomach, you couldn’t believe the effect he had upon you.

“In that case, lay back,” you quirked a brow at that,”I want to taste you.” He clarified.

You hadn’t been expecting that. You did as you were told for once, shuffling back onto your bed but propping yourself up on your elbows so you could see what he was doing. He ever so gently undid your shoes and slipped those, followed by your socks, off your feet. Next came your trousers once you lifted your hips enough for him to take them off. He let out a huff at the sight of you, staring almost in disbelief at you sprawled out before him. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? It is truly distracting.”

“Is that why I keep whooping your ass in training?”

“Maybe.” He chuckled before turning his attention back to your dripping underwear, “So wet for me already and I haven’t even touched you.” His eyes held a hunger as he parted your legs at the knees a little more so he could get a better look at you. Taking your knee, he hooked it over his shoulder as he sank to the floor, pressing slow kisses along the inside of one thigh and then the next. The touch sent shivers through you, right to your already dripping core. You whined when he got so close to where you wanted him, only to turn his attention to your other thigh again.

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked teasing?” He asked when you whined. You dared not look at him, knowing he’d have his smuggest smile on display.

“Please.” You mumbled, desperation for any touch at all. With a nod of his head towards you in compliance, he rid you of your underwear, tentatively rolling the material down your legs to expose your heat to the nighttime air.

“I’d hold on to something if I were you.” His mouth returned to the tops of your thighs, only this time he let his lips ghost over your core rather than skip over it completely. Your folds were so slick and warm that it almost felt as though his lips melted into you. A long groan escaped you as he began to move his mouth and tongue, laughter vibrating through him at the sound you made. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, you wanted to tug on his hair but settled on grabbing the sheets beneath you. When his tongue flicked your clit, that was out the window and one hand shot to the back of his head in desperation.

He pulled back from your pussy for a moment, “Please pull as hard as you’d like.” He’d obviously caught on. You tangled both hands in his hair then, before he returned to your warmth and he moaned before bringing his lips back to your core. Oh, he liked it when you tugged on his hair, you’d have to remember that.

He sucked your clit between his lips then and let it go so he could lick a strip right up the middle of your folds. “Oh fuck,” you exclaimed, “P-please, do that again!”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He repeated the action, this time taking extra care to move as slowly as possible. Another lick and he was gathering your wetness on his tongue and once again groaning at your taste.

He moved one hand from your thigh and brought his fingers to rest by your lips, “Get them nice and wet for me.” He told you, and you didn’t need to be told twice, sucking his two digits into your mouth and lathering them up with your tongue. “Gods.” He breathed, no doubt imagining that was his cock in the place of his fingers. He withdrew them from your mouth and brought them to your core, circling them slowly in your juices before ever so slightly prodding your entrance with them, slipping the tip of one in and out, followed by the other, in and out, intermittently whilst he worked the rest of your pussy with his tongue.

The very sight of him between your legs would have been enough for you on any other day, but today you were spoiled for choice on what to focus on. He snuck a glance at you from beneath his brow every once and a while, watching your facial expressions in between closing his eyes in pure concentration. You were close now if the coil in your stomach was anything to go by. Honestly, you were surprised that you’d lasted so long given the circumstances.

“I’m close!” You told him.

“I know.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He hooked both his fingers into you at once now, noting how you clenched around him when he did. Pleased with himself when he hit a spot within you that had your head flung back so your chin pointed towards the sky. He chuckled to himself and looked up at your face, not wanting to miss the reaction on your beautiful features.

“What are you- Oh!” The new motion of his fingers, pressing firmly exactly where you needed them to be, was an entirely too overwhelming sensation. Not only did you grab his hair now, you pulled on it, grinding your core against his face in a desperate plea for your release. In your haste to keep him close to you, you’d accidentally pulled the tie from his hair letting the strands fall upon either side of his face in a beautiful frame. He put his mouth into overdrive too, moulding his lips around your nub and giving it as much attention as he could, eyes never leaving your face now. You clenched around his fingers once more before the dam broke and he’d swore he’d never heard a more delightful sound.

His name fell from your lips as if it were the only thing you’d ever known as your orgasm washed over you. He held your hips down with his free hand as he helped you ride it out, never once stopping his movements until you’d finally collapsed back on the bed. You continued to pet his hair as he lay his cheek upon your thigh, brown eyes gazing up at you in a haze.

“They teach you that at the Shaolin academy?” You asked in jest as your breath began to even again. You tilted your chin to look down at him and the adoration in his eyes was enough to send your stomach fluttering once more. He smiled up at you then, his usual half-smile with a slight tilt of his head that you’d grown to love. “Seriously that was great, thank you. Would you allow me to return the favour?”

“If you wish, but please don’t let me finish too soon.”

“Too soon?”

“If you would allow me such a privilege, I would like to feel your body around me as well as your lips.” Gods, you wanted to feel him inside you too.

Once you were ready, still aching with want but satisfied for now, you slipped down off the bed and onto your knees. “Oh you poor thing. Need me to take care of that for you?” You asked when you saw the strain in his trousers. You pulled the waistband of his trousers down with ease, revealing his underwear. You could tell from the outline that he was big and painfully hard but you couldn’t help but tease him with a few soft strokes with the pad of your thumb through the fabric.

“Please-” he gasped when a particularly long stroke had his cock twitching. “Oh sweetheart, it looks like you’ve been hard all day.” You pulled his pants down and allowed his cock to spring free. His cock was thick, thicker than you’d ever imagined. It had ample length too but it was a particularly large vein that ran along its side that really caught your attention.

You pressed a kiss to his leaking tip, another to the vein. Such sweet noises left his mouth already and you’d barely touched him. Dragging your tongue along his underside whilst looking up at him seemed to really do it for him because his cock twitched in your hand. “Oh, gods. Do that again. Please.” You obliged him and earned the most breathy, muddled sound from him.

You gave the tip another kiss before wrapping your lips around just the first half an inch or so.

“Fuck-“ He pulled his cock from your mouth, “As beautiful as you look with your lips around my cock, I’d rather not finish so quickly.” He brought you up from your knees to kiss you again before lifting you slightly so you sat on the edge of your bed once more.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, hand lovingly caressing your cheek, eyes soft and locked with yours. You stood, gliding a hand from his stomach, up along his chest until you reached his strong jaw, eyes never leaving his as you did.

“More than anything. I just want to be close to you.” You confessed.

“We can just lay together if you’d like? We don’t have to do this, I’m more than happy to wait until you're ready.”

“I’m ready,” you told him, “I want you, so long as you want the same?”

“Oh I do. I've wanted this since the day we first met. You have no idea how much I want you.”

“Oh I have some idea.” You pushed on his chest lightly and he fell back onto your bed, taking you with him in his arms, shimmying until he was comfortable. You tugged your shirt over your head and rid yourself of any remaining underwear, flicking your eyes towards him only to see him dumbfounded at the sight of you bare before him. Heat rose to your cheeks for the first time that night. The man had just been eating you out like his life depended on it yet his gaze still made you giddy.

“You are so cute when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.” You laughed, taking his head in your hands once more and kissing him, revelling in the feeling of his mouth on yours. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his cockiness, sitting upon his hips, careful not to let your body sit fully on his stomach or any other sensitive part of him. His hands glided down your sides until they reached your hips, resisting the urge to tickle your sides as he would have in any other situation.

“You ready?” You asked him, sitting up on your knees, hands braced at the base of his thick chest. He nodded, swallowing hard in anticipation.

With one hand you took hold of his achingly hard cock and directed it towards your entrance, taking care to coat the tip in your wetness before aiming it at your aching pussy. A sharp inhale and you were sinking down onto his lap until his cock filled you completely. With each inch, Lao arched further off the mattress before collapsing back once fully inside you, a long moan escaping him as your pussy enveloped his cock within you. The fullness you felt was something else. His velvety cock filling you so pleasantly you thought you could just sit there like that forever if you wouldn’t have gotten needy.

“My gods,” you groaned at the overwhelmingness of it all, “you feel so good.” You told him and he smiled amid his haze, absolutely delighted he was able to make you feel good even from his place beneath you. He let you take it completely at your own pace, supporting your hips when you moved up of him and then slide back down onto his cock. He wouldn't last long, not with months worth of pent up frustration finally coming to a head. He never thought the day he’d be inside you would ever come, didn’t let himself wonder what your walls would feel like around his member. To be fair, usually, just the thought of kissing you was enough to get him off.

You rocked forwards again once you were sure your body had adjusted to his size. Falling forward to essentially lie directly atop him. You didn’t want to ride if you couldn’t touch and be close to him. Another grind of your hips and a moan fell from his lips right into your ear, his hands now gripping your lower back, helping you move on his cock whilst keeping your form flush against his. His hips moved up in tangent with yours.

“Shit!” You cursed when his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot.

With another roll of his hips, he made contact with that spot again, your hands desperately grabbing fistfuls of the sheets at either side of his head to attempt to transfer the tension in your body from such pleasure. “Again!” He obliged you, full concentration on helping you reach your release.

“Lao, please!” You almost begged, “harder please!”

To your surprise, he pulled out of you completely, gripping your hips and lifting you off of him. In one swift movement, you were on your back, Lao leaning over you and tugging your knees around his hip so he had easier access to your pussy.

“You ready for me?”

“If you don’t get back in there and fuck me I think I’m going to die!”

A laugh escaped him but in truth, he felt that desperation too. In fact, he would have come ages ago had he not been in essence edging himself so that he wouldn’t finish long before you.

You sat up so you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, or hips scent, his arms around, or really anything about him. His arms wrapped around your right after he entered you as you kissed, your moans swallowed by one another’s mouths. That wonderful fullness was back again and he waited until you gave him the go-ahead that you were comfortable again before moving. His thrusts were measured, slow but forceful in a way that had you mewling against his shoulder.

He took his time with you, basking in the feeling of being with you in such a way. His lips found your neck once more, then your shoulder, then your chest and over the tops of your breasts. A particularly loud moan on your part had his attention turned back fully to spearing you on his cock.

“There?” He asked, looking to you for your response. You nodded your head into shoulder and he kissed the top of your head tentatively, smiling at your pleasured state. He focused on hitting that spot again, and again, until your nails started to dig into his shoulders. He let one hand drift between your bodies and down to your core, using the knowledge he’d gained from exploring you with his mouth to heighten your bliss.

“Lao!” His name left your mouth, along with obscenities. You weren’t really sure what you were saying at this point apart from his name. His fingers dancing over your clit combined with his thrusts had you feeling so stimulated that you swore that was all you could feel right now. The coil in your stomach had been rigid and pulsing for a few minutes now.

He pressed another kiss to your temple, “I’m almost there!” He told you, voice shaking both with intensity and the constant movement of you both.

“These bed sheets are a pain to clean.” You informed him in a moment of clarity and he laughed, but his voice was strained as you met his thrusts with your hips.

“Where-“ he gasped, “Do you want it?”

“Inside.” You quickly replied, knowing that you had taken any precautions you needed to.

He laughed again, “I swear you’re trying to kill me.”

As he rubbed harder and more sloppily on your clit, you knew he was extremely close. His forehead was tucked into your shoulder now, skin glistening. When you tugged the hair on the back of his neck between your fingers, he was done. A cry escaped him, cock twitching as he filled you with his release.

That feeling, the feeling of his body shuddering against you, his warmth filling you, was what finally made you come for a second time. You fell back against the covers, taking him with you as you worked through your release. He kept going, lightly and sloppily moving in and out of you until he was sure you were spent. He collapsed a top you, chest heaving in tandem with yours as you slowly came down from your high. When he turned his head to look up at you, a smile spread across your face and his in turn.

“We really shouldn’t have waited so long.” You sighed, feeling the stickiness between your legs as he carefully pulled out of you, not moving his cheek from your chest.

“Agreed.” He huffed in another large breath before his breath evened. It was so good to be with you, in any capacity really but this, this was something almost heavenly.

“Sorry, I think these sheets are still going to need to be cleaned.” He leant up off of you and off the bed, careful not to crush you under his weight, his playful little side smile returning as he walked to your en suite to grab a towel.

You looked down between your legs to check, groaning at the mess. “It can wait for tomorrow!” You didn’t feel like doing any kind of cleaning right now. Your body was spent and your muscles had already begun to ache. He returned with a damp towel and ever so gently wiped away any mess from between your legs, his movements so tentative that it was hard to believe he’d been the one to make that mess in the first place.

“Why? You got something else planned for tonight?” He asked, chucking the towel in the general direction of your bathroom before scooping you up in his arms and setting you down against your pillows.

“Yeah I was just about to go train.” You said in a mock serious tone, actively shoving the covers down so you could both crawl beneath them.

“Ha! Sure.” He had already settled beside you, bringing his arms to wrap around your frame. You turned to face him, your hand sliding beneath his upper arm to gently caress his back as you buried your face in his chest. You felt his lips on your forehead again, his arms tightening to bring you as close to him as he could.

Yeah, you weren’t moving for the world.

#kung lao #Kung Lao x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #mk 2021 #fic #my writing #reader insert #smut #lemon

[lacheri]

rituals

pairing: boyfriend!Levi & fem bodied reader

content: modern au, established relationship, over stimulation, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), body worshipping, a sprinkle of somnophilia and dacryphilia, Levi really loves his pet names, very minor OCD portrayals, minors DNI

wc: 5.7k

notes: not me creating an entire tumblr so i can post my smut lmfao. this is my first time writing smut like this, so i hope ya’ll enjoy (:

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even if he wanted or tried to. You were just so beautiful to him, long eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you tried to drift off to sleep. He insisted that you faced towards him every night, his eyes tearing up from pushing away blinks because he genuinely couldn’t bring himself to miss even a second of you. It was borderline obsessive, definitely the craziest ritual he had, but Levi just couldn’t help it. This was the only time he fully and unabashedly got to admire you, and it wasn’t like you didn’t mind the attention. In fact you’d lay there fully conscious, steadying your breathing and squinting just barely to watch him watch you. Your boyfriend wasn’t an overly affectionate person, but God did he love to spend hours memorizing every curve and line of your pretty face. 

Levi’s fingers reached out, tracing your cheekbone with his knuckles, breathing a hair above a whisper, “So gorgeous.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from blowing your cover, a wide grin erupting from your lips. Eyes still closed, you heard Levi chuckle, “Seems like my brats’ still awake.”

Instead of answering in fear of ruining the moment, you snuggled closer to your boyfriend, burrowing your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. You placed an innocent kiss there as you brought your left hand up to rub tiny circles on his bicep. His shirtless body was warm and soft from his earlier shower, and he had just decided on sliding into your freshly washed bed sheets with you in just his boxers. You couldn’t help but take notice of his hardened length pressed against your stomach.

“So sweet for me tonight,” he rasped, fingers edging under the fabric of your silk shorts. 

“I’m always sweet for you,” you moved your head back to look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting. 

Levi took your bottom lip in between his index finger and thumb, gaze locked in on how it rolled in between them. He groaned softly to himself letting go, leaning in to indulge himself in a kiss. You eagerly matched his slow, sensual pace. His hand wandered back to your shorts, slipping underneath the bottoms to caress the back of your thigh. He molded the soft flesh between his fingers, biting softly at your lips for permission to taste you. Your tongue licked in response against his bottom lip, Levi taking it upon himself to push his tongue forward to dominate yours. His taste buds slid sinfully against yours, twisting and turning around the muscle. You tasted divine. All mine, Levi thought to himself.

The tips of his fingers traveled upwards to the fullness of your lower cheek, not being able to stop himself pulling the handful towards him. He softened his grip, feeling your ass jiggle back into its original place. His mind ran wild, images of your naked body flooding his head. You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, feeling a familiar burn rumble in your lower stomach. Unlike your boyfriend who could play and get you wound up for however long he saw fit, as soon as you got started all you wanted was him inside you. Patience was not in your personality, and as he continued to paw at your lower half, you had one goal set in mind.

“Wanna’ get on top,” you demanded, breathless and feeling needy as you pulled away from your kiss.

Levi’s kiss traveled to your cheek, down your jaw and neck as he responded, “No, not done with you yet.”

“But Levi,” you whined, shifting an octave higher as he sucked the side of the column of your throat. His tongue drew delicious circles before going back to peppering kisses.

“Patience, brat. You’re being so good, don’t want to ruin that by being whiny, do we?” He ended his question with a light smack on your ass, removing his hand all together after to lean his torso up to hover over you. You gulped, the burning feeling intensifying as he stared at you with predatory eyes. You nodded slowly, feeling accomplished as he murmured, “That’s my good girl.”

Levi easily guided you to lay flat on your back on the bed, fully encasing you in between his strong arms. You eyed his biceps as he balanced over you. The full moon that looked just outside your bedroom window was a blessing in disguise as it illuminated the room, casting flattering light on all it saw. Your favorite thing about Levi’s body was his arms, toned and strong, and always so in control. You practically drooled watching them flex as he leaned in back to your neck, this time trailing kisses upwards. His lips met you in a kiss again, this one a bit heavier and needy than the last. 

His right hand strayed up to your face again, Levi always needed to touch you, and his thumb ran along the edge of your jaw, a grip solidified under your chin when he pulled his face away from yours. He titled your head up, his stone colored eyes locked in on yours. His jaw was slacked open as his eyes kept traveling your face. Every time he saw your face it was like a spell, he was completely devoid of ever being able to gaze at another’s after being graced with yours. In a flash, images of you looking angelic in a white dress came to mind, and with a pretty diamond ring burning a hole in his sock drawer he had yet to show you, his cock throbbed. Levi’s lips attached aggressively to the spot where his fingers accompanied, sucking fiercely down. You bit back a moan as heat pooled instantly between your legs, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Levi,” you moaned, both of your hands shooting up to his waist leering above you. 

“Yes?” he moved downwards again, this time taking the buttons of your silk shirt in between the pads of his fingers, popping them open slowly. 

“I love you,” your eyes fluttered closed, heart race increasing. His did as well, flickering to your bra-less chest and back up to the soft smile that lit up your face.

“As do I, brat.”

Levi pushed your unbuttoned silk sleeping shirt open, gazing down in awe at your exposed chest. Your nipples were pert and standing to attention, and you felt like your heart was going to slam out of its confines. Levi always did this to you, every time you made love felt like the first. You wondered if this effect would ever go away, but as he leaned down and flicked one of your hardened nubs with his tongue, you wholeheartedly believed it never would. 

His lips encircled around your nipple, his hand began toying with your other breast. His licks and sucks were slow, so agonizingly slow, but did Levi just love to work you up and tease you. On the nights you were an extra good girl for him, he’d let you take charge and tell him what you wanted and give it to you. Unsurprisingly, there was absolutely no time wasted in foreplay. Of course this power change wouldn’t last very long, Levi would find it too amusing how quickly being in control went to your head. He needed to remind you on those nights that he was only allowing you to act that way, and Levi was always the one in charge. 

You could feel the throbbing of want from your core, not being able to hold back a whine as Levi continued his assault. His hand stayed kneading your breast as his lips moved south once more, tongue lolled out on your skin to leave a saliva trail. He had to feel every square inch of you, lapping against the soft skin of your torso. He bit playfully at the underside of your boob, and you let out a tiny yelp in response. His lips smoothed over the light impressions of his teeth, kissing languidly to earn back the soft moans and sighs he was eliciting from you. 

Deciding then that your clothes were an offensive insult to his existence, Levi huffed and abruptly yanked down the waistband of your shorts, taking your lace panties with it. This had caught you off guard, but before you could react, Levi had slipped one of his hands under you on the small of your back to lift your hips while the other tugged down your shorts and panties to your knees. You lifted your knees up on your own to your chest and he pulled the garments off the rest of the way, throwing them off to a forgotten corner of the room. His hands returned back to you quickly, landing on the back of your heels, and he leaned up onto his knees to gaze down at you from hazy eyes. Wherever his fingers trailed, his eyes followed. Feather light scratches traveled the underside of your feet, his palms facing towards you. You shivered involuntarily, your body was on fire and he hadn’t even touched you where you needed him the most yet. His digits finally met the tips of your toes, and his knuckles wrapped around the tops of your feet, massaging them in the process. Levi’s eyes flickered up then, expression completely stoic, but you saw every emotion swirl in his cloudy grey eyes. The want, the need, the complete and utter adoration, it was all there.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” Levi spat as if he had spoken an insult. “All fucking mine, I want to hear you say it.”

“Levi, please, touch me,” you begged, fed up with him toying with you. 

“Tell me, now.”

“I’m yours,” you pleaded, nearly in tears as your frustration built. “I’ll always be yours. Please, baby.”

“Such a good girl,” Levi praised, face softening after getting what he wanted. He pressed his lips to the top of your right toe then, never breaking eye contact. He didn’t spend much time on your feet, only peppering closed mouth kisses until he reached your ankle. His fingers followed shortly behind his lips, eliciting goosebumps in the trail of his light touch. You were a whiny mess, he was just getting you so worked up. You knew he didn’t reward bratty behavior like this, and you really did try to control it and keep it in, but you were just getting so frustrated that Levi wasn’t giving into what you wanted, no, what you needed. And every kiss closer to your aching center moved slower and slower, stopping completely once he reached the insides of your thighs.

Taking your knees in a tight grasp, he spread you completely open in front of him. You clenched around nothing in anticipation, a silly grin on your face. You bit softly on your bottom lip, watching him devour you with his eyes. It was just so much to take in, Levi was groaning to himself, burning the image into his memory. There just weren't words to describe it, having you like this felt almost holy. His eyes struggled to fit you all into one simple picture, wanting to focus on every single detail; The way your pussy glistened and the muscles contracted, the darkened skin in the inner creases where your center met your thighs, the skin bunched together on your stomach from having your legs spread so wide and up, the tiny bumps of your areolas, the way you sucked on your bottom lip, eyes so wide and pure, hair a fucking halo around you. He placed his hands on the sides of your center, spreading you open with the pads of his thumbs resting on your outer lips. Levi wasn’t a religious man in the slightest, but God did he want to put your body on an altar and goddamn pray to you, worship you, die for you, kill for you.

Levi finally leaned forward, his lips placing an open mouth kiss to the bare skin above your folds. It was all way too much teasing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, trying to push yourself closer to his mouth. He shot a warning glare up, daring you to continue disturbing him. 

“Bad girls don’t get what they want, brat,” the vibrations of his grovel were so close to your aching clit, and you let out a choked moan in response. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” your head became clouded, feeling like you were going to explode. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“This is the second time I’ve had to remind you,” Levi took his index finger and finally stroked it against you, a shaky intake of breath elicited from you. “Don’t let there be a third.”

The tip of his finger circled gently on your clit, exposing the pearl in the center. Every time his soft touch brushed against it, you wanted to sob. Your loving boyfriend, so gentle and caring, taking his ever loving time with you. He watched you as if he had never seen another woman in his entire life, it would always be just you. Even the mere thought of someone aside from you had him growling. Whilst you were all his, he belonged to no one else but you, and he felt every urge to prove that to you.

The assault of his tongue was a shock to your system, nerves sizzling deliciously. Levi was a man on a mission, and he knew exactly how to get you to come undone under him with the rhythm of his mouth. There was a pattern to be appreciated, a ritual even, and Levi was a man who found reason in a routine, because routine always worked. You knew this well even outside the bedroom, Levi ate the same foods every day to stay as fit as possible, he color coded every single thing in your home to stay as organized as he could, losing his mind if he even suspected a hint of dust on any of his furniture. He told you once before that you were the one compulsion that didn’t drive him utterly insane, and in Levi’s world he pretty much declared his eternal love for you. And you definitely didn’t mind this attention in the slightest, because although the thoroughness of his touches and kisses made you want to ignite into ball of flames with desire and frustration, there would never be another man on the planet who could make you feel as beautiful and as loved as Levi did, or who would be worthy of receiving of your own love and adoration.

Levi’s took his free hand to your opening, circling the area with pressure. His tongue still licked and sucked faithfully on your clit, you whimpering and mewling at his worship. His index finger pressed in, your walls instantly sucking him in as far as you could take him. You shuttered, eyes rolling into the back of your head as his finger began to move inside of you. He was grazing the ridges, pumping the digit as the knuckles of his fingers made a ‘come here’ motion over and over. And when he added a second one to add to his pattern, the coil in your lower stomach was about to burst. Of course Levi could feel the change of the pulses of your walls, holding a squeeze for longer seconds than the last ones, and he knew you were close. He angled his fingers then so the tips rubbed against the spongy part of your cunt, pumping his fingers even faster, creating friction at your entrance as well. 

Between his expert fingers and the suction of his lips, you came fast and violently, not being able to voice a wanting, white light flooding your vision as you arched your back and your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth hanging agape in a breathless scream. Levi watched all of this before him, and couldn’t help but rut against the bed in his boxers. You were simply heavenly, and had he humped the bed the entire time he was eating you out, he would’ve came in his boxers without hesitation. 

The contractions slowed but Levi did not, knowing he could get at least one more out of you before he moved on to the main event. The stimulation was too much, too overwhelming coming immediately off of your high. Your muscles were still so tight, not completely relaxed and your clit was just so sensitive. It didn’t take more than a few strokes of his fingers yet again to have a quick orgasm. 

You moaned louder the second time, although the first one was stronger. It just felt so good, not nearly as satisfying as the first, but the waves washing over you were unbelievably strong.

Levi removed his mouth, and watched his fingers slip out of you, skin pruned from your cum. He placed a kiss on your thigh, bringing his gaze to your weary expression, “Such a good girl for me, I think I’m going to reward you.”

Your ears perked and you lifted your head from the pillow, “Reward?”

“Yeah, why not?” he sucked where he was placing kisses, eyes locked in on yours. “I’m going to let you pick how you want me to take you.”

Your eyes widened, an excited smile gracing your features. Now this was rare, and you realized that Levi must’ve been in an exceptional mood to let you have even a fraction of control right now. Or, on the flip side, he was setting you up to lose control so he could find a reason to punish you. Either way, you couldn’t wait to find out.

“On top,” you begged yet again, sitting up on your elbows and sliding out of your opened shirt. “I want to watch you.”

“So needy,” he scoffed, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you further down the bed so you were eye level. His chin was covered in your arousal as he leant in for a passionate kiss, lips mashing together. He easily flipped you over so you laid on top of his muscular form. You sat up, knees bent on either side of his hips. You placed your hands on his lower stomach to steady yourself, thumbs brushing against the elastic of his black boxers. Levi had strategically rolled you so you sat pressed bare against his erection, and he could feel how wet your pussy was through the fabric. He audibly groaned when you pressed further down, rubbing yourself on his clothed cock. 

Your hips rocked back and forth in a lazy rhythm, and Levi was having absolutely none of it. Although he could deal out plenty of teasing, what he wasn’t going to allow was for you to give it right back to him. Really, it wasn’t on purpose, you promise. It was just there was no time to waste, and you would find any kind of satisfaction any way you possibly could. 

His hands gripped hard at your hips, stopping your motions entirely, “Oi, brat, you trying to get a strike three?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized once again. “Feel so good, I can’t stop.”

“How could you?” his expression softened, bringing his thumb to trace your lips in mock empathy. “You’re so spoiled.”

Levi then took matters, literally, into his own hands. He patted your thighs so you could lift your hips as he grabbed his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. It slapped against his stomach, and you saw the glisten of precum on his slit. Your mouth watered, eyes drinking up every second as he pulled the clothing down his legs, kicking them off his ankles. You sunk your hips down again, letting out a whimper as your clit made direct contact with the head of his dick. Levi pulled his bottom lip in with teeth, face scrunched as he let out a low hiss. You slid against him a couple of times, lubing his shaft with your arousal. Grabbing the base, you angled him at your entrance, eyes glued to the spot between you. His eyes stayed trained on your angelic face though, not trusting himself to bust on the spot as you began to slide yourself down on his length.

“Fuck,” Levi cursed, nearly drawing blood as he bit down. Your mouth hung agape, eyebrows furrowed and tears pricking the edges of your lash line. “So fucking tight.”

Fully impaled on top of him now, a fat teardrop rolled down your face, landing on his lower abdomen, and Levi was instantly regretting letting you take control like this. All he wanted to do was to feel your pelvic bones wrapped around his fingers on your hips as he unforgivingly plowed into you. He hated seeing you cry, but in the bedroom, he didn’t mind it one bit. It was an arousing reminder that no matter how many times he made you cum before hand, no matter how drenched your core was, you would still struggle to fit all of him inside of you. He would even go as far to call it a sick fascination, a warranted deal as lovers to see you sob and hiccup on his length. His ego was fragile, as are most men, but as you opened your teary eyes and met his lustful glare, he felt as if he could take down the entire fucking world for you.

“Oh my god,” you cried softly, angling your hips upwards to bounce back down swiftly. You both let out a groan as you met his pelvis once again, feeling the tickle of neatly kept pubic hair tickle your clit. As much as you wanted to grind yourself down on his base to get yourself off yet again, the furrow of Levi’s brows and the sight of his lip tucked between his teeth gave you motivation to continue on. 

Raising yourself up again quickly, now feeling your cunt adjust more to keep taking him, you used all the power you could muster in your knees and thighs to lower yourself down, then up again, into a steady rhythm. A bit slow for both of your preferences, but you fully knew that his patience would wear thin soon and Levi would just haul you onto your back again, having his way with you.

His thick tip continuously brushed against your ridges, every time you would purposefully clench yourself as you met his base. Whimpers escaped your lips, the sounds of you and your cunt gripping him for all its worth filling the room. You would’ve been embarrassed had this been anyone else, but truthfully, Levi was the only man who could ever get your beautiful pussy to this state of unending flow. You were soaking him, and the both of you knew that after all this was said and done, the sheets that were just pulled out of the dryer not even an hour ago would go right back into the wash, all because of you. No, you weren’t going to take the blame. It was all because of Levi, and what he was doing to you.

His hand smacking your ass brought you out of your thoughts as he grumbled, “You fucking brat, you’re fucking yourself on my cock to wind me up, huh? You’re really wanting that strike three?”

“No,” you managed to moan out as your pussy clenched from his words. “I’m really trying my best, Levi.”

Levi’s hands grasped your hips as your cunt was trapped at the top of his fat tip, stopping your motion entirely there as you hovered, “I don’t fucking believe you.”

With one swift motion, he thrusted upwards, hard, burying himself right up against your cervix. You yelped in response, tears resurfacing as the pain mixed with the pleasure. This was exactly what you had wanted, and Levi knew this, but you would refuse to admit it.

“Wanted me to get fed up, didn’t you?” he grit his teeth, plunging himself into you once again, unbelievably even harder this time, your moans turned desperate. 

“Please,” is all you could whimper, his harsh thrusts increasing in pace as he fucked himself into you. Not once relinquishing his tight grip on you. All you could do is hover above him, grabbing onto whatever you could to steady yourself. 

Another loud smack was heard as you felt a sting against your ass, and now you were really sobbing, “Please, please!”

“Please, what?” Levi venomously spat out, eyes darkened in lust and in mild anger. You knew it wasn’t legitimate anger, and all his look did was feed the flame growing in your core.

“My legs can’t hold up anymore,” you cried, fat tears rolling down your face. Your knees were buckling, a tender ache in your thighs had your body wanting to go limp. 

His hold on you eased up, maneuvering his hips so his cock slid out of you with a squelch. You fell into his lap, trying to catch your breath as fast as you could before he locked you in another grip, rolling around so your stomach was flat on the bed. His cock, now soaked in your juices, was grinding into the seam of your ass, and he was groaning at the contact. Truthfully, you’d let him fuck himself anywhere he wanted. And God, did Levi want to use that to his advantage. Not tonight though, he had one goal, one place in mind, and that was your beautiful, angelic cunt.

He slid himself back in between your folds with no resistance, his knees locked in between your legs to prevent you from closing them in a reaction. His fingers tangled themselves in the back of your head, pulling it up by your hair so he could hear every single mewl and whimper from your beautiful mouth. 

From this new angle, Levi was buried so deep within your body that every nerve was singeing, lit aflame by the wondrous pleasure. Pulling his hips back slowly, he could feel every ridge and muscle in your plush cunt, and he let out a subtle growl. He pressed back in at the same pace, almost torturous. He eyed the handprints on your ass, and felt his ego soar. Every mark, every bruise, every touch, your body was entirely his, and his alone. 

His fingers unwound in your hair, grasping both of your full ass cheeks in his hands as he plunged in, flicking his hips faster. You heard and felt the smack of his balls as he bottomed out inside of you, and all you could do was gasp and hiccup at the impact. He repeated it, again and again, increasing his speed every time. He angled himself then to brush his engorged tip to that sweet spongey spot inside of you, fucking right up into it with every thrust. He really had you moaning then, your hands reaching forward to grasp the pillow in front of you, knuckles white in your grip. While the sight was erotic, seeing the back of your head as you stuffed your face into mattress, body completely limp under him, Levi wanted to see that beautiful face of yours as he brought you to a climax. He could feel your cunt squeezing him, ready to cum, but knew how your clit needed the extra attention to bring you there.

When he pulled out of you suddenly, you let out a frustrated cry. He silenced it very quickly, flipping your body once again to lay on your back. Strands of your hair were stuck in sweat against your forehead, mouth agape and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of your moistened lips, unable to stop the drool as your mouth hung open. Your legs still parted, bent at the knees, he grabbed your thighs and pulled you even closer, aligning himself with your vulva once again. His hands stayed there, his cock standing to full attention, needing no guidance, as he filled your tight hole, and continued fucking you.

Your breasts bounced from the impact as you tried, so very hard, to match his pace with your hips. You did well at the beginning, feeling the skin to skin contact against your clit as your bodies met full on. Your legs were shaking though, unable to hold a rhythm long enough to get off, and you gave in, allowing him to take full control.

“You’re so close again, aren’t you?” he chuckled darkly, his right hand leaving the smooth skin on your thigh to travel in between your legs. 

“‘Wanna cum, please, Levi,” you pleaded, your eyes screwing shut, hands attaching themselves to his looming biceps.

“You haven’t been very good, though, brat,” he chided, almost mockingly. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“I’ll be good!” you begged, hips shakily trying to match his pace once again. “Please!”

“You’re gonna’ be a good girl?” he asked, gaze dark and hungry as he drank in your desperate form.

“Yes, yes!” you nodded furiously, eyes opened now, watching his own flicker up to yours.

Without answering you, or teasing you any further, his thumb met your clit, and you moaned so fucking loud that Levi almost came from the sight of you. He pulled his thoughts together, focusing on getting you off first. His thrusts fastened, your pussy squelching as the sound of slapping skin echoed in your bedroom. Levi’s thumb worked in quick circles, no intent of letting up. No, you wanted to come, so he was going to make you fucking come.

The coil was never unwound in the first place, and his attention had you seeing stars. The pressure in your abdomen kept building, and you could feel every single slide and inch of his dick everywhere inside of you. At your sweet spot, in your entrance, the encouragement of his thumb on your most sensitive area. It was all too much.

“I’m gonna’ cum,” you panted as you threw your ankles around his waist, wanting to pull him in deeper.

“Cum for me, beautiful, cum on my cock,” Levi begged, feeling his own release impending.

That’s all it took, your jaw dropping and knees shaking as your pussy pulled in him so deep, and squeezed him painfully tight. Your head was empty, and Levi watched you completely fall apart below him. Seeing pure white, eyes locked in on his, his face screwed together in his own pleasure. That’s all it took to finally push you over the edge. Your cunt gripped him harshly, and feeling the first contraction, Levi couldn’t hold back anymore, his thrusting desperate and thumb moving so fast his wrist was aching. He flicked his hips as you pulsed around him, shooting his load deep inside your velvet center.

As you screamed his name, he moaned out yours, both of you stilling completely aside from his thumb working you down. Even as he came down from his height, your cunt was still milking him, albeit at a slower pace now. His thumb slowed movement, your contractions winding down as your chests heaved.

Levi quite literally had to force himself out of you, your pussy that tight on his dick. He watched in adoration as some of his seed spilled out of your hole, and using the same thumb he brought you to your climax with, he pushed the fluid back inside of you.

Thank God for birth control, you thought, breathing heavily as you watched him from below.

Levi threw himself out of the bed, taking shaky strides over to your on suite bathroom. He spent a couple minutes there, and you stayed in the same position, trying to find any energy to move. Not much to his surprise, he looked on in adoration to see you still sprawled out, your eyes closed peacefully as you enjoyed your post orgasmic bliss. Now this was a face worth studying tonight. 

You jumped when you felt the cool contact of a wet rag meet your folds, and your eyes opened and followed Levi’s hands as he diligently cleaned you, his focus intent on your womanhood. You cringed when you finally looked down at yourself, inner thighs glistening under the pale moonlight. So much for laundry day.

“Normally this is the part where I tell you how good you were,” Levi’s eyes flickered up as a small smirk set in on his lips. “But I’m beginning to think you’re a bit too spoiled, brat.”

You laughed breathily, “I’m sorry, you just make it so hard to control myself.”

“Maybe I should start dealing out real punishments,” he mused, finishing up wiping you down. 

“Oh?” you managed to tilt your head lazily, interest peaked. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, maybe make you start calling me captain, or something?” Levi inquired. His expression was completely serious.

“Captain?” you snorted. “Captain Levi? What kind of fantasies do you got swirling around in your head? Do you want to buy a boat or something?”

“You could be my little cadet,” he smirked, ignoring your teasing, returning the rag to your pussy with mischievous intentions, a bit too sensual. “My little bratty cadet.”

You closed your legs as much as you could with him in between them, a pout settled in on your face, “Why can’t I be a captain too? Better yet, what about your commander?”

“In your wildest dreams, brat.”

Levi stopped teasing you then, deciding your lower half was as clean as he could possibly get it without tossing you into the shower. Making another quick trip to the bathroom and back, he adjusted the pillows behind you, until they sat perfectly on the bed frame, and worked out the wrinkles in the duvet that had been half haphazardly thrown down and off the mattress to make way for your love making. Deeming everything perfect, Levi finally crawled into the bed beside you, where your eyelids were drooping heavily as you fought off legitimate sleep this time.

“I love you, Levi,” you murmured, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck to pepper a sweet, innocent kiss.

His hands gently cupped the back of your head, pulling you back and you pouted sleepily, “Oi, you know what you’re supposed to do. I’ll cuddle you when I’m done.”

You only nodded in a response, sleep catching up to your exhausted body. You only stirred when you felt the length of his fingers intertwined with yours, a small smile creeping up as you finally drifted off. Levi gazed at your expression in adoration, pushing back your hair from your face as your breathing softened. He would fight his own need for sleep for an hour, memorizing every crinkle of your beautiful face. 

“I love you, so much,” Levi whispered, barely able to hear himself. “My beautiful angel.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi fic #levi smut #tw: ocd #shingeki no kyojin #levi fanfiction

[theringers]

watch me burn - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part seven

summary: “oh baby, I've been thinking about it, you know that I've been dreaming about it” watch me burn / michele morrone

a/n: hi:) still a few more parts to go but i went a few chapters without smut and this was needed so enjoy:) also if u listen to the title song while u read its a whole new experience lmfao

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex

2 months ago, to the day

Your eyes met his piercing blue eyes in the garage once again. It had been a month since you slept with Pierre and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. The way he stared at you as he fucked you was the exact same way he was glaring at you across the paddock. Needy and desperate.

You shook yourself back into focus and listened as Max’s strategist reiterated today’s race strategy but you couldn’t help daydreaming about what that man could do in bed.

You drowned out the conversation about tyres and looked over to Alpha Tauri at the perfect time. Pierre had his bottom lip between his teeth while he examined his car. He ran his hand slowly over the chassis seductively like he knew you were watching. His fingers grazed the metal in painstakingly slow circles. After he removed his hand from the car was when he caught your eyes. He gave you a smirk, not even a smile, and turned away. It was good to know that you weren’t the only one thinking about what happened.

The race started and you were in the garage, cheering on Max. He had started second on the grid but due to a first lap incident, he was fifth. He was not going to be happy after the race. He can tolerate if he fucks up but having other people interfere with his race is something he takes particularly hard.

Pierre’s car came up behind Max’s around a corner and got too close for comfort. Max jerked his steering wheel too much as he tried to turn, sending Pierre’s car straight into the barriers.

You stood up out of your seat and gasped. Everyone in the garage was relieved to see Max still racing and no one seemed to be concerned about Pierre. You took off your Red Bull Racing branded headphones and slammed them on the table before rushing over to the Alpha Tauri garage.

Anna was seated in her chair, looking worried, but not enough for you. She should be close to tears like you were.

“Have you heard anything from him?” You asked and Anna looked up, almost annoyed.

“He’s conscious,” his race engineer said, “but hurting.” You heard the groan come through followed by a bunch of curse words. He apologized profusely for his move but it was all Max’s fault.

You watched on Alpha Tauri’s monitors as the race was red flagged and decided to head back to Red Bull’s garage. “Let me know when you hear something,” you said to Anna. She nodded and looked back down to her phone. Fucking bitch. Her attitude made you not even feel bad about sleeping with her husband. She didn’t deserve him.

Max walked back to the garage looking like a life size bobble head with his heavy helmet swinging around. “Is Pierre okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He’s conscious. He took a nasty hit.”

“I know, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to, the steering wheel just got away from me. I saw him crash in my rear view mirror.”

You were visibly shaken and Max always knew the right things to say when you weren’t feeling okay.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Max said, rubbing your back.

You nodded in agreement. “I know he will. I’m going to check on him at the medical center once the race starts again.”

Max smiled at you. “That would be good. Make sure you tell him I’m sorry.”

An engineer put his hand on Max’s shoulder and shoved a spreadsheet full of data in his face. He shrugged his shoulders and walked with the engineer to the monitors.

It wasn’t long before the race got underway again. Max made it up to third, podium position, but there were still at least 30 laps left. You started the trek through the paddock and over to the medical center. You were just a bit too late as you saw Pierre walking out down the ramp. He smiled when he saw you approach him.

“How ya feeling champ?” You asked him.

“I’m a bit sore thanks to your husband.”

Your face fell. “He sends his apologies. I promise he was actually remorseful.”

“Max? Remorseful? What did you do to him?”

You laughed. Max did have a temper and tended to be extra competitive but he had formed a special bond with Pierre these last few years. They weren’t friends by any means but they helped each other out whenever possible. This was one of the times that it wasn’t possible.

“He does genuinely feel bad, Pierre.”

“I know he does, it was a racing incident. I saw the footage.” He limped slightly through the paddock and winced when he put pressure on his left leg. “I think I should go lay down for a bit.” He took another step and lost his balance. You grabbed his arm and held him, making sure he stayed steady.

“This is it right here,” he pointed to his motor home.

“Do you want me to help you up there? I don’t want you to fall.” You said with a soft smile on your face. How could he resist your offer of help?

“Sure,” he limped over to the door and you aided him up a few stairs. “Shouldn’t you be watching the rest of the race? Last I checked, Max was doing really well.”

He sat down on the luxe white leather couch in exhaustion and you sat at the table across from him. “He wanted to make sure you’re okay. He’ll be fine.” You looked around the motorhome, observing your surroundings to seem busy. “So Anna’s nice…” you said, followed by a laugh. You had known Anna for a few months now. Their wedding was right before the season started and you really hadn’t known her much before then either. She tended to keep to herself and you wanted to respect that.

“She can be a bit…”

“Yeah, I know. I went to check on you after the crash and she looked like she wanted me dead.”

“In her defense, she caught me checking out your ass this morning. She was not very happy with me after that.”

You leaned forward to give him a light smack. “Pierre!” You shook your head in disappointment. “What did she think of the way you were practically fingering your car this morning?”

He played fake shy. “Oh, you saw that?”

“You make my heart beat crazy fast.” You admitted, putting your hand to your chest. “That didn’t help.”

“Well, as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Enjoy yourself you did. He was in his same fireproofs from earlier and you were sure he didn’t know how turned on they made you. They were pulled down to his waist, the sleeves hanging low off his hips. His white undershirt was tight to his body, putting his abs on full display. His legs were spread wide, inviting you in. Was it hot in there? Was the air conditioning on?

He ran his hands over his abdomen and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. He groaned, sounding like he was in pain, frustrated, and horny at the same time.

Why did he have to be so unbelievably irresistible to you? When you were around him it was almost impossible to contain yourself. There was a magnetic force dragging you to him constantly. You moved yourself to sit next to him, earning his attention and popping his head up.

“You look really hot right now,” you giggled to yourself. He made you feel like a teenager experiencing her first love. The nerves were through the roof.

“Well, I feel hot.” He looked around the walls of the motorhome. “Where the hell is the air conditioning and who turned it off?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god it’s not just me.” He looked over at you examined your face. He placed his hand on your red cheeks. “You’re flushed.”

When he touched you, a chill ran through your body. Your body felt on fire and he had the power to send a freezing cold chill through it all.

“My cheeks get really red when I get nervous.” You blushed even more having to admit that. It was your least favorite characteristic of yourself. Everyone always knew flat out when you were nervous.

“I can’t tell if it makes you look cute, like I want to hug you, or if I want to fuck you.” His hand still rested on your cheek as he looked back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You look so god damn innocent. Like I could totally ruin you with just a few minutes alone.” His thumb ran over your lower lip and you instinctively stuck your tongue out to meet his thumb. He took the opportunity to put his thumb in your mouth and you suctioned around it, keeping eye contact with him. “Y/n,” he breathlessly begged, “please.”

His lips crashed to yours, feeling warm and secure the moment they touched. His hands held your neck and you moaned into his mouth, forgetting what it felt like to be touched by him.

He hoisted you onto his lap, wincing a bit when you grazed his knee. His hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist as he pulled you closer to him, grinding your hips. “Don’t do this to me,” he said into your neck.

“Why not?” You said cheekily.

“We don’t have much time.” You almost forgot that there was a race going on right now.

“I can be quick.” You hopped off of him and locked the motorhome door as he undressed out of his fireproofs. He looked so good in his white suit but he looked even better naked. You slipped off your underwear and hoisted your sundress up to your waist before going back to his lap.

He guided your body on top of his, settling you down as you took all of him in, deep. “Shit. A condom.” You said, after the bare feeling of him inside of you set in. God did it feel good but it wasn’t right.

“I don’t think I have any in here.” He said. “I promise I’ll pull out. I need you so bad.” He lightly bit your nipple through your sundress.

“I will kill you if you’re lying to me.” You started to move your hips and moaned at the sensation. He felt so good filling you up all the way.

He took your ass in his hands and started to bounce you up and down on his cock. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He said, admiring your movements. “Fuck me like a good girl.”

Your head fell forward, the feeling running through your body getting almost unbearable to handle.

“Jesus, Pierre, you feel so good.” You pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and arched your back, feeling like all eyes were on you in the best way possible.

He watched you in awe as you rode his cock without a care in the world. “Your pussy is so tight baby. So tight for me.” A breathy moan escaped his lips and his face looked like he was in pure bliss. There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come.” He said, panicking. You rushed to get off of him as you saw the liquid pool on his abs.

“Did you…?”

“I don’t think I got any inside of you.”

You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. God, you hoped not.

next part

#f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #pierre gasly smut #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanficfion #max verstappen fanfiction #pg #mv

[the-cult-of-russo]

No Going Back (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

Request : Hey love, can you please do a part 2 to “no going back” where the reader is with a new partner that treats them better and shows how happy y/n is (after a few months of heart break) & billy is upset and dealing with the aftermath of his actions - regret - or not being able to find someone like reader. I’m in the mood for sad!billy because my heart broke for myself in the last one lmfao, they could meet again with y/nS new partner idk go crazy babe!

A/N: Welcome to the Land of Pain. Enjoy the deep rooted sadness and heartache lmao why am I so invested in Sad!Billy? Like really, let me give him a hug or something 😂 this one kind of took on a life of its own and I couldn't help the comforting at the end lmao sue me.

Also, I keep the description of the new partner vague so you can imagine whoever you want. Personally I was thinking Charlie Hunnam because 👀🙃 but this way you can picture whoever. 

Warnings: cursing, some angst, heaps of sadness and despair (for Billy), very much Sad!Billy. Lil bit of fluff too

You never thought you'd find happiness, not after Billy. But sometimes you find things when you least expect it, or they find you. You'd spent months healing after what happened with Billy and at times you honestly thought the pain wouldn't stop. The saving grace was the fact Billy actually kept his distance and didn't contact you. At first you weren't sure if that hurt more or not. But the clean break allowed you to heal and you knew deep down that's why he did it. It had been hard knowing he loved you, that he wanted to fix things. If he had just been an asshole then it would have been easier to get over him. You could hate him. But you couldn't. Part of you would always belong to him but you had to move on. And you did. 

Jacob was a great guy and you'd met through a friend. He took you on dates, doted on you. He was there and he listened and he treated you amazingly. And for the first time since Billy, you hadn't compared Jacob to him. Previous dates were always measured up to Billy but when you met Jacob, you didn't even think about your past lover. 

You'd been with Jacob now for 4 months, it being half a year since the split with Billy. Everything was looking up for you and you finally felt like things were on the right track. You still thought about Billy sometimes. Wondered if he was okay, what he was up to. You couldn't help it. You just hoped one day he'd find happiness too. It hurt that he hadn't allowed that with you but you hoped he'd let it happen with someone one day. 

-------

Billy had experienced pain in all forms in his life. The pain of abandonment from his mother, from the shit in the group home, being in the marines and everything after. He'd always dealt with it. Picked himself back up and moved on. He got back up every time and was always stronger for it. But this time… this time he was weak and he couldn't do a damned thing about it. 

Losing you, all through his own bullshit fault, had been by far the worst thing he'd ever been through. The worst kind of pain. Being shot in the heart would hurt less than the agony and waking hell that had been his life since you begged him to leave your apartment 6 months ago. It felt like only 6 days ago yet 6 years at the same time. It was a never ending spiral of darkness and despair. 

And it was all his own fault. His inability to just be a normal fucking human with emotions had ruined the best thing he ever had. He deserved this pain. He deserved every bit of it. He'd done a lot of bad shit in his life but this was the worst. He couldn't get your face out of his head. How you looked at him with such betrayal and hurt. And he'd caused that. He'd caused those tears to stream down your face, he'd caused that pain. So he'd wallow in his misery and take every inch of pain he was in because he deserved it all. 

He'd thrown it all away, and for what? The sex with the other women hadn't even been good. He hadn't enjoyed it because it wasn't you. And then after, the guilt would eat him alive. But he kept doing it. He couldn't stop himself because he was overwhelmed. He loved you. He actually fucking loved you and he didn't deserve you at all. He never thought he'd love anyone. Didn't think he was capable of such a thing, yet here he was. And he never thought in a million years that anyone would ever love him. His own mother didn't, so why would anyone else? He kept replaying over and over when you told him you loved him that day. The pain had ripped through him like C4. He'd fucked up so badly and he couldn't fix it. He'd finally had a taste of what it was like to be loved and to love someone and it was snatched away in a heartbeat because of his own actions. 

He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. He lost some weight and was well aware of the dark circles around his eyes. He'd taken to drinking every night just to numb the pain and hope your face didn't haunt his dreams. He hadn't even slept with another person since. He couldn't bring himself to. He was a mess. All he wanted was you and he couldn't have you. 

------

You and Jacob were on your way to a little cafe you frequented for lunch. You felt happy, radiant even as you both walked hand in hand. The weather was warming up and the sun bathed you in its warm glow as you walked. Everything felt right. Just as you got to the outside of the cafe, his phone rang. 

"Shit, I need to take this, babe," he sighed. You smiled up at him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"It's okay. I'll see what they have today," you smiled. He gave you a wide smile, kissing you softly before he stepped away a bit to answer the phone. There was no anxiety. No wondering who he was talking to. You felt settled and content. 

You glanced through the window of the cafe where they displayed fresh baked sweet treats. They had different ones every day and you pressed up against the window, eyes glancing around as you tried to decide if you wanted a glazed donut or a cinnamon bun. Probably the donut.

"Y/N?" The shocked voice felt like a splash of cold water. You knew that voice anywhere. You turned around to see Billy, wide eyed as he stared at you. He looked… oh Billy. Your heart ached at the state of him. He was still in his fancy suit with his hair neat and slicked back. But he looked exhausted, his dark eyes sad. It hurt.

"Hey, Billy," you murmured with a soft smile. You thought about what it would be like if you saw him again. You thought it would bring all the pain back. The anger. But you were hurting for a different reason. You were hurting for him this time. 

He glanced at the floor, looking somewhat out of place and his usual confidence seemed to be left at home. When he glanced back up at you, looking at you through his lashes, he looked like a lost boy. 

"You look good," he said quietly. You smiled sadly, shifting where you stood. 

"You look tired," you countered softly. He chuckled, the noise hollow sounding and you'd be a liar if you said you didn't miss him. Part of you wondered if you could have stayed friends but you didn't think it would help.

"Yeah, I'm uh… not sleepin' so good," he shrugged like it was nothing and you frowned. 

"Billy-" you started, only to be cut off by Jacob coming back over and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"Sorry, I'm done now," he smiled down at you, kissing your cheek. It wasn't done as a display of possessiveness like Billy would have. It was simply affection. But you saw how Billy's jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he looked at him.

"Uh… Jacob, this is Billy. Billy, this is Jacob," you said carefully. You didn't need to say that Jacob was your boyfriend. It was obvious and you didn't want to rub salt in Billy's wounds. Jacob's brows raised a little, arm moving from around you as he looked at Billy. 

"Oh. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard a lot about you," Jacob said amicably as he extended his hand. Billy glanced at it like it was a poisonous snake before glancing at you. You gave him an imploring look and he swallowed thickly before shaking Jacob's hand. 

"Nothin' good, I bet,'' Billy smiled bitterly. Ouch. That hurt. 

Jacob looked at Billy hesitantly with a small smile. 

"Actually… Y/N had nothing but good things to say about you. Except for how it all ended but… there were a lot of good things," Jacob said softly. It made you smile. You'd told him everything about you and Billy and he'd never seen it as an issue. And the fact he was trying here really meant something to you.

Billy looked taken aback for a moment before his face schooled back to the mask of indifference he'd wear often. He glanced at you then at Jacob again as Jacob gave your hand a squeeze.

"I'll get us a table and give you two a minute," Jacob murmured to you. It wasn't lost on you how he purposely didn't kiss you like he normally would. He wasn't petty. He wouldn't hurt Billy or rub it in his face. 

Once Jacob was inside you looked at Billy as he glared off to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

"Billy… I'm sorry, I…" you frowned. You wished he hadn't found out this way. Not when you saw how badly he was hurting. He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head.

"Don't … Don't do that," he bit out. 

"Do what?" You asked with a frown. His obsidian eyes turned to you then, full of such pain and sadness that it felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"Don't… apologise to me. I don't deserve shit," he muttered, jaw clenched. 

You took a step closer to him and he looked down at you, rolling his shoulder a little. 

"Look… you fucked up. It happened. But I don't … I don't hate you, okay? I never could. I don't want to see you hurting like this," you lamented. His lower lip wobbled a little before he clamped down on it with his teeth, glaring at the floor with glassy eyes. 

"You should hate me," he replied tensely. 

"Well I don't. I forgive you. I don't know if that's helps or anything but… you need to forgive yourself, Billy," you said as you moved closer, looking up at him. His eyes met yours for a moment before he looked away. 

He was so tense, hands in his pockets as his shoulders were set and his body was rigid. 

"Does he uh… he treat you good?" He asked, voice strained as his eyes drifted to the window of the cafe before back to you. You nodded, worried if you vocalised it that it might hurt him more. He scrunched his nose a little, his shoulder rolling again.

"He make you happy?" He asked quietly. It sounded like it brought him great pain to even ask and you looked away with a sigh.

"Billy…" you frowned, not wanting to answer. 

"Just… please. Does he make you happy?" He asked again, a little firmer this time. You met his eyes as you nodded. 

His jaw ticked as he nodded stiffly, glaring off to the side.

"Good… good, you deserve to be happy," he muttered softly. 

"So do you," you replied sincerely. Black eyes snapped to yours then as he scoffed. He opened his mouth to no doubt say something fueled by self hatred but you spoke before he had the chance. 

"I'm serious. I want you to be happy, Billy. You need to allow yourself to feel things and one day you'll get that. You'll find happiness one day," you implored.

He blinked at you for a moment, his eyes shining from moisture.

"I want that with you. And I know… I know I can't. I know we can't fix this. But I just… I don't think I could find that with someone else," he admitted softly. He looked so sad and it was wounding you. You hated seeing him so vulnerable and lost like this. It was so far from the Billy you knew and loved. This Billy was the Billy that woke from nightmares about the group home or from when he was overseas. The Billy you'd comforted many times before. It always hurt you when this side of him was out. 

"There'll always be a part of my heart with your name on it, Billy. I'm sorry it didn't work out but it doesn't mean I don't care at all," you breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath at your words. 

"This… this is why I never deserved you. You're too good for me, too kind and… caring. I don't deserve somethin' precious like you. I don't deserve anythin' good," he muttered bitterly. You knew this spiral well. How he got in his own head and went down the rabbit hole of hating himself. 

You took another step towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted him to be okay. To stop hurting. He may have hurt you, broke your heart, but you didn't want this for him. You wanted to comfort him and this was the only way you knew how. You felt his arms wrap around you, one fisting your shirt and the other in your hair as he held you close. He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply. 

"Stop hating yourself. Do it for me. I hate seeing you like this," you whispered forlornly as you held onto him tightly. 

His hand in your hair tightened a little and you could feel a slight tremor running through his body. 

"I'm a mess without you," he lamented, slightly muffled by your hair. 

"You need to allow yourself to move on," you replied softly. You went to move away but his arms tightened and you allowed him to hold you a moment longer. He'd called you his anchor once. You hadn't really believed him but now it seemed like he was floating away and you were the only thing tethering him here. 

He pressed a kiss to your hair before releasing you but you didn't step back too far as you blinked up at him. 

"Maybe we… maybe we can…" he trailed off uncertainly and your chest constricted painfully. You really hoped he wasn't going to ask for another chance because shooting him down in the state he was in would kill you. 

"I wanna… could we be friends? I won't… I won't get in the way or anythin', I just… maybe if I could text you sometimes? Just to know you're okay?" He asked hesitantly as his dark orbs flit to the window of the cafe before back to you.

You weren't sure if it was a great idea. You didn't know if it would help if you were honest.

"Billy… I don't know if that's a good idea," you murmured sadly. His eyes bore into you, pleading and desperate.

"Please? I know that I-I can't have you. Not the way I want. But I need you in my life, even just as a friend. You not bein' there at all… it's left a gaping hole and I…" his hand went to his chest, rubbing over where his heart was. 

"Okay, you can text me if you need me. But only as friends," you relented, stating the last part firmly. A small smile graced his face then, eyes lighting up ever so slowly. You hoped this wouldn't be a bad idea. 

"I appreciate it. And… as much as it hurts… to see you with… Jacob. I am happy for you," he said Jacob's name like it pained him but his eyes were sincere as he looked at you. It made you smile a little. 

"Thank you, Billy," you murmured. He gave you another small hesitant smile as he nodded.

"I'll uh… let you get back," he said with a nod. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him again, around his middle this time as your head rested on his chest. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you tightly. His hand going to your hair like it always did. You could hear the rapid thumping of his heart in your ear. 

"It was good seeing you," you said softly. You meant it too. 

You always thought it would be difficult seeing him again, and it was in a way. It hurt seeing him this cut up about it. But it wasn't how you imagined it would go. You weren't angry at him, you didn't feel the same pain you did on that day. The only pain you felt was for the broken man in holding you. You wanted to comfort him and you'd missed him. He'd been a constant in your life for a while, even before you officially got together. 

"It was good seein' you too," he sighed, squeezing you a little. When you stepped back, he gripped your face and for a moment it startled you. But he planted a firm kiss to your forehead before stepping back. Once again, you allowed him that. You couldn't help it. 

You gave him a soft smile and he returned it with a sad one of his own. You forced your feet to move as you made your way into the cafe. Jacob was sitting there patiently waiting at a table with a coffee and a donut waiting for you. You grinned at him as you sat down and he leaned over to kiss your cheek.

"Everything okay?" He asked softly, stroking your cheek.

"Yeah," you sighed. You really hoped Billy would forgive himself for everything that happened. He didn't need to punish himself like this. 

"Good… he'll get over it one day. Just give him some time, babe," Jacob murmured as if he knew what you were thinking. You gave him a warm smile as you laced your fingers with his. 

You hoped he was right. You hoped that being friends with Billy would work and maybe help him. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or not but he seemed adamant it would help him. It was hardly how you ever imagined it would go but it was how the cards fell. All you could do was wait and see what happened and hope that maybe you could help Billy through it. It was kind of upside down and all ass upwards. Helping the man that broke your heart get over you. But you still cared about him and you'd do whatever you could to help him through it.  

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

[novaiya]

It’s Getting Better - Dutch x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Based on this request “I’ve never requested anything before and I am begging you to write some like caring Dutch Van Der linde smut? Like idk you were unhappy & he made you feel better?”

Words: 2197

Warnings: smut, reader has female anatomy.

A/N: It took me longer to come up with the title than to write this fanfic lmfao

It was a particularly beautiful day at Shady Belle. The air was heavy and wet, but that didn’t stop the current occupants of the land from taking big gulps of it, enjoying it more than the cigarette smoke that usually filled their lungs.

Outside, the stagnant pool of water sparkled under the yellow sun. Jack stood right next to it, by the docs, throwing rocks and sticks into the water. Abigail was not far away, sitting on a log, knitting and periodically looking up to check on her son.

Pearson was preparing yet another pot of stew. He knew the recipe by heart, and by now could probably chop all the vegetables and meat with his eyes closed. The smell of it carried all throughout the manor, filling every room with its mix of vegetables, meat and spices.

There seemed to be a lot of chatter both inside and around the house. You, however, didn’t pay attention to any of it, holed up in the big room on the second floor, wallowing up in your sorrows. You haven’t been able to be a productive member of the gang for some time now, still shaken up from everything that has happened in Clemens Point just a few weeks ago. There of course have been some victories since then, like getting Jack back, but you still couldn’t forget Sean and what happened to him. It didn’t help that Miss Grimshaw screamed at you when you were spacing out while washing clothes. You knew she didn’t mean to hurt you, she too was grieving and was trying her hardest to keep everyone and everything together. Still, that didn’t stop you from bursting into tears and running up to the bedroom you and Dutch shared.

You were laying on your side in the bed, your back to the door when you heard it open and close, footsteps approaching the bed.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Dutch said as he sat on the bed next to you, his hand reaching out and running down your hair.

You sniffled and used the cuff of your shirt to dry out the tears on your cheeks. You wanted to tell him how you felt, what was on your mind, but you were afraid; afraid that if you opened your mouth, tears, along with every thought that was in your mind, would release in a flood wave like water from a breached dam.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he said, his voice having a hint of sternness, but still soft and loving, “tell me.”

You turned around on the bed, sitting up a little bit to be able to see Dutch.

“I’m just-” you turned your face fully towards Dutch, your reddened eyes staring at his own-“I’m scared.” You took another, shaky breath and kept on. “First Arthur, then Sean, and then Jack, and then we had to flee. How long before we have to move again? How long before someone else dies?” Without you noticing your voice was getting louder and louder with each word you said. Before you knew it, you were practically screaming every one of them, and tears that you’ve tried to dry not a minute ago were back in full swing.

You could’ve probably kept going for hours, spilling out every single thought that was on your mind, but you were momentarily stopped when Dutch embraced you, holding your body to his. No more words escaped your mouth, except for occasional sobs and weeps. You were clinging to Dutch, holding for dear life to his shirt as he ran his hand down your hair and your back, occasional saying “it’s okay” You weren’t sure how long you were crying for, or when you stopped, but when you finally did, you were lying down on the bed, your head on Dutch’s chest, his hand still soothingly running over your hair and shoulder.

You blinked a few times, trying to get your vision to go back to normal after all the tears blurred it. You looked up at Dutch; he was already looking at you.

“How are you feeling?” he said.

“I’m okay,” you said, before taking another moment and adding, “I just need time. It’s been a lot.”

“I understand,” he said. “It’ll get better, sweetheart, I promise you.”

You smiled. Dutch didn’t have to promise you anything, you already believe in him, you always did.

You reached out towards him and kissed him.

“I know,” you said after breaking the kiss, your lips a hair away from each other. He pressed his lips back towards yours, his hand now on the back of your head, holding you close to him. His other hand was following the curve of your body, running down your waist and stopping at your hips. When it came to Dutch, even such small actions could instantly get a fire burning in you.

You moaned, much to Dutch’s delight, when he pushed his tongue in your mouth. You were clinging to him, your nails threatening to tear his vest apart.

He maneuvered you on the bed, pinning you down, his broad frame towering over you.

“Dutch,” you said breathlessly.

“Let me take care of you.” He placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb running small circles on your skin. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes and nodding your head.

You felt his lips on your neck, soft and gentle, paving their way down with kisses and nips. You started to work on the buttons of your blouse, your excitement evident by the way you couldn’t get them to open right away. Once all the buttons were off, Dutch took over, pulling the blouse down and off of you, revealing your breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of your naked chest, your nipples standing at the attention, asking to be licked and sucked. He covered one of them with his mouth, using his hand to tweak and pull at the other.

“Dutch.” Your sighs and moans of his name only spurred him on more and more. He released your nipple from his mouth, kissing down your stomach and reaching the band of your skirt. You lifted your hips up, helping him to pull it down off of you, leaving you only in your drawers, which soon enough join the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

You were now completely naked in front of Dutch, nothing but a thin sheet of sweat covering you. Dutch’s eyes were all over you;  on your breasts, your perky nipples, your naval, your mound. The heat in his eyes was infectious, and it was making you feel sexy, aroused and aching all at the same time.

He was sitting on his knees, situated right between your spread legs, all of you open to him, running his hands all over you. You were starting to get impatient, so you moved your hips towards him, biting your lip when he gave you a curious look.

“Impatient today, aren’t we?”

“I always am when it comes to you.”

Dutch laughed. “I know, darling. I promised you I will take care of you, didn’t I?” he said as his fingers ghosted over your slit. The action, albeit small, was enough for you to buck your hips toward his fingers, wanting, needing more. He obliged, collecting your witness with his finger and pushing in. After all the ministrations, just his finger-long and thick-felt like too much. He started off slowly, his movements timed, his thumb doing soft circles over your clit, watching your face, your expressions. Your eyes were closed, your mouth slightly open, warm sights and moans coming from it. You were writhing under him, your hair a mess on the pillow, making it look like a halo over your head.

“Dutch, please,” you said. “More.”

Dutch smirked, and added a second finger, picking up the pace.

Your moans grew louder, which only egged Dutch on. You were now moving your hips in tandem with his fingers, meeting him at every thrust of his wrist. Dutch loved seeing you like this; so completely drowned in pleasure. He could go on for hours, bringing you to new heights, seeing your face during your undoing being his biggest reward.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your toes curling when you felt Dutch add a third finger. One of your hands reached behind you to grab at the pillow, needing something to hold on to, while the other traveled down your naval and to your heat. Your eyes met Dutch’s as you started to rub your clit. His face was flushed, your was probably too, and his intense gaze was enough proof of how much he was enjoying this. Your eyes traveled down, looking over his neck, his exposed chest, down to his pants where you could see an outline of his cock, straining over his pants.

As if sensing what you’re thinking about, Dutch said, “Cum now, darling, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that was forming. Dutch knew you very well, especially when it came to things like this.

“Dutch,” you moaned when you felt your peak near. A particularly deep thrust of Dutch’s finger was all you needed to throw you over the edge, your body twisting and turning on the bed, Dutch’s name falling from your lips over and over again.

You opened your eyes, your orgasm finally faded. Dutch were smiling at you, the sight of you being lost in pleasure never getting old for him. He leaned down, kissing your chin, your cheek, your forehead and finally your lips. You weaved your fingers into his hair, bringing him impossibly close to you, so close you could feel his heartbeat against your chest.  

One of his hands was on your waist, while the other reached down to pull down the zipper of his pants, pulling out his cock.

He moaned your name as he slowly started to push in, your warm walls enveloping his member. When he was all the way in, he stilled for a moment, savoring the feeling of your wetness, of your body under him, of your scent filling his senses. He was addicted to you and he couldn’t get enough.

His hand found yours, interlocking fingers. His lips met yours once again, devouring you like you were the last drop of water in a desert.

Your hands were on his forearms when he started to move, his thrusts pushing you deeper into the bed.

It was getting uncomfortably hot in the room. Your activities, combined with the humid air surrounding Shady Bell made beats of sweat form on your forehead just like they have on Dutch’s. Both of your moans, sighs and hot breaths filled the bedroom, seeping through the cracks in the floor and gaps in the doors, bound to be noticed by anyone who walked past.

Dutch’s thrusts were becoming quicker and deeper. He was hitting all the rights spots inside of you, and if he kept up like that you were bound to come apart in a few moments.

“Dutch,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

At your words, he sneaked one hand down between your bodies, finding you clit and rubbing it in tandem with his thrusts. That was all you needed. In seconds, all you could do was hold to Dutch for dear life and repeat his name like a mantra, the thought that anyone could hear you being the last thing on your mind.

Your release, combined with your sensual moans of his name, was bringing Dutch closer to his own. The feeling of your wallas spasming around him was too much. He dropped to his elbows, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His thrusts became slower, but rougher and deeper. You could feel his lips on your neck.

With a moan of your name, he came in you. You could feel his release coating your walls, some of it already dripping down your thighs. He kept moving his hips a few more times before stilling over you. One of your hands laid on his back, caressing him. Both of you were catching your breath, trying to bring your breathing back to normal before anything else. Finally, he pulled out of you, laying down right next to you.

You scooted closer to him, laying your head down on his chest and closing your eyes. The feeling of his chest rise and fall down was having a soporific effect on you.

“Feeling better?” Dutch said.

“Much better.”

“I’m glad.” He kissed the top of your head.

The two of you stayed like this for a while, not bothering to go back to your work or continue on with the day. You’ve been running for so long, that you simply couldn’t run anymore. You stayed like that all till the evening, your bodies entangled in each other. Only when you heard Pearson’s jolly voice announce “Get it while it’s hot” did the two of you emerge from the confines of your room.

It might be a while till you felt completely better, but with a man like Dutch by your side, you knew that it wouldn't be long.

#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 x y/n #Dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x y/n #dutch van der linde #Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr2 fanfic

[heauxzenji]

Brainrot Kinktober 10/29

treat like gold

Lingerie: Alisa Haiba x Fem!Reader

Warnings: not a lot ??? I don’t think? Light voyeurism, light exhibitionism, Dom!Alisa a little bit, never thought I’d write scissoring but that’s in there, fingering, some bad words, ummmmmm yeah I think that’s it? Just wanna be topped by the woman of my dreams

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: lmfao I found out Alisa is an Aries and chaos ensued I’m so sorry 👀 also ty @whet-ones-write for being my lovely beta reader bc sometimes we can’t all die like men also kiska is just a Russian pet name, it’s the equivalent to “kitten” in English!

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

Red has always been her color. No matter what she wore, no matter how many runways she walked, no matter how many campaigns she had booked- she always stood out the most in red. It was her lucky color, and her lucky red pumps that got her the deal with the biggest up and coming intimates brand, TLG Lingerie.

Red was her lucky color, and the bane of your existence.

Being friends and living with a model obviously had its perks- her agency pays your rent; and you live in a fucking penthouse for starters. You get to go to a ton of industry parties, and of course, getting to see your amazing best friend live her dreams and cheer her on felt good. But you’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that it was also self-indulgent of you to be her assistant- you were the one that told her agency to send her on the TLG go-see… you’re the one who suggested the stylist change her from the white piece to the red one… you are the reason that those test shots of her in a fiery red bra, stocking, and garter set are sitting on your kitchen table right now- and let’s not even get started on the red marabou babydoll that you insisted she wear. You did this to yourself.

Fucking masochist. Now look at you. You’re a mess.

Your fingers were knuckle deep in your own wetness, your free hand aggressively kneading your breast as you rutted your hips against your hand, softly reciting her name as your face twisted in a torturous buildup. There was no way to prepare for the way the door flung open…. you hadn’t even heard her come into the penthouse.

“Hey, Y/N I was going to order Thai for din- OH!”

Your motions ceased, the feeling of your orgasm was instead replaced by a burning heat and anxious nausea as your eyes met Alisa’s in the doorway. Neither of you could move or speak- it felt like life was moving in slow motion.

“I didn’t know you were busy, I'm sorry,” Alisa spoke.

Her eyes were unmoving, not only looking at you but through you. Her breathing wavered as she bent over to pick up the discarded takeout menu. You finally regained enough composure to cover yourself- still dazed and utterly mortified.

“I didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You wanted to feign ignorance, hell, you wanted to die- but in this moment playing dumb was the only thing you could do- until she picked up the still you had casually slipped into your pocket when she originally had the TLG shoot.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for a still,” she lamented, starting to make her way over to you. While your eyes widened with fear, her’s awakened with intrigue. She sat at the corner of the living room sectional tracing the corners of the photograph with her fingertips, eyes fluttering back and forth between it and you.

Finally settling her gaze, Alisa laid back, settling into your mattress with a sigh. Your body tensed as she stared- her eyes have always been her sharpest feature against her delicate appearance.

“Go ahead,” she goaded. “Finish what you started.”

It was a pointed command. Biting her lip, she pulled away the throw blankets that you had been so desperately clutching, cool air hitting your skin as you let out a shaky exhale. You stomach twisted ín self- consciousness, but you couldn’t stop either- an unexplainable tether pulled you. Readjusting yourself on the couch, you rested your back flush against the supportive cushion, spreading more to give her a full show of your puffy, slick-coated lips and inner thighs. She flopped onto her stomach, peering up at you from the foot of the couch intently.

“I- I-...” Finally, you were able to utter a syllable. It wasn’t of much use.

“You what?” She teased tilting her head curiously and almost in an innocent fashion. “You weren’t this stiff a minute ago~”

Your cheeks were hot, but your core was even hotter. Slowly, you slid a finger across your clit, jerking at the contact while she watched. As you rubbed some more tiny circles, one by one the soft whimpers from before started to fill the room yet again. You and Alisa kept eyes locked on each other as you curled in one of your fingers, then another, the open mouthed ‘o’ spreading across your face as her eyes darkened even more. She was beautiful- but sinister in her line of questioning.

“Does it feel good?”

You nodded.

“Do you do this often? Do you play with yourself and wish it were me?”

You fixed your lips to say no but nothing came out as you saw her begin to unbutton her blouse. It would’ve been a lie anyway. You’ve wanted her for as long as you’ve been friends. You’ve wanted her ever since you met.

“You shouldn’t be using photos of me if you have the real thing,” the fabric flowed off of her body to reveal the bra from the photographs- the fiery red lace and golden ‘TLG’ hook in the middle. Alisa began to crawl toward you, stopping just short of your feet to shimmy her way out of the pencil skirt she had been wearing for all of her go-sees that day. The matching red thong came into view, the full effect of the photos paling in comparison to the actual sight in front of you.

“Especially not when you can have the real thing anytime you want.”

By now her face was so close to yours that her breath tickled you. You had unconsciously sped up the motions of your fingers, a third falling in line with the others and pistoning itself in and out of your pussy. Alisa cooed and mewled, nodding at you with sweet praises falling from her lips. Taking your free hand, she guided you to her own chest, hands just grazing her barely covered tits- then to her lips, pulling two of your fingers into her mouth. As your jaw was hanging open, all you could do was manage a half sob from the back of your throat. The dizzying feeling of what was happening combining with the lightheadedness you were already feeling begin to well up inside of you.

There was a moment of stillness from you as Alisa leaned down to eye your glistening heat. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as her fingertips found a way up your chin, brushing past your lips as you began to suckle almost instinctively. Pleased with your eagerness, she looked up at you through her thick lashes, batting her eyes.

“How about we just… touch each other hm?” The suggestion hung in the air, only punctuated by your ragged breathing and a desperate “please” that squeaked from your throat, raw from straining and holding in the moans of your impending high.

“I’ve barely touched you, y/n.” she hummed. “You’re so desperate. It’s cute.” Her little giggle made your walls clench haphazardly at her teasing. Slowly, she slipped herself out of the red fabric at her hips, neatly placing the bundled thong in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

“I can’t let you have all the fun…”

Alisa’s finger trailed up your slit, collecting the pooling wetness that coated your lower half. She smiled, taking it into her mouth, humming at the taste of your essence. Her weight shifted as she moved herself to dangle over you, repositioning one of your legs and interlocking your fingers with hers to hold a semblance of balance as she lowered her own hips to meet yours. Slowly, she ran herself against you, making sure to guide your hips to match her own ministrations. You strained against each other, juices mixing as you began to work up an even pace.

“How long have you wanted this?” Her flowery moans filled the room with an unexpected rasp, one contrasting that of her normally demure voice. She was a completely new person- a sapphic vixen driven by nothing more than the feeling the sins of your flesh.

“I - fuck,” you panted, taking a sharp inhale as you felt two of her fingers suddenly begin to slowly stretch you. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad.”

Her other free hand began to pinch and tweak at your hardened nipples, wanton cries spilling out of your lips and into hers, muffled under her kiss.

“Mhmmm, I know you have, kiska,” Alisa moaned, craning her neck down to your earlobe, gently blowing on it as she continued to grind down into you. Your walls flushed with heat at the roughness of her mother tongue combining with her soft voice.

“Everyone wants to fuck me. I’m Alisa fucking Haiba.”

Your walls clamping onto her fingers was confirmation enough that she was right, a smug chuckle and click of her tongue resounding in your ear as she locked her gaze with that of your own.

Her clit slid against yours with each buck of your hips, the sudden motions combined with her fingers curling against your soft walls again sparking the painstaking buildup of a knot in your stomach. Alisa’s eyes never left yours as one of her delicate, expertly manicured hands found its way to each side of your neck, gently squeezing. No sound escaped your lips, but your jaw was stuck open as she started to speed up her movement, rutting her cunt against yours even more aggressively than before.

The pleasurable friction between you two had your eyes screw shut before you could even get one last look at her face. You came undone with a shrill cry, hips bucking almost manically as you rode it out. The self satisfying smirk on Alisa’s face said it all.

Wiping the hairs from your sweaty forehead she kissed you again, hopping up and darting toward the stairs, leaving you panting breathlessly.

“What about the food?” Your voice was barely above a hoarse croak. It was scratchy and raw, even though you had barely made any sounds. Too much straining had taken its toll, and that was evident.

“That can wait,” she called. She was halfway up the stairs, looking down at you from the landing’s balcony.

“I’m gonna go put on the babydoll…. and get my toy box.”

Brainrot Kinktober Taglist (if your url is bolded, check ur privacy settings!): @ukaic @definitelythotful @shrimpypenis @nonexistent-social-life @crushingonsuga @revolutionary-chocolate-cake @right-shoe-jpg @sugawara-sweetheart @nxynxy @aoba-baby @arianna20 @scorpiosanssexy @ceo-of-daichi @dinosaurtsukki @turquoiselace @nonamemaximum @omibaby @chokemelevi @bokuakadaily @haikyuuangst @cutie-aesthetic-palace @whet-ones-write @superdepressedhoe @iwachanswh0re @crushzone @kiseox @mysticalroadnightempath @toobsessedsstuff @trouvelle @kodzu-ken @elianetsantana @sonyaroses-blog @tsukkisbitch @mrs-kuroojinguji @tendousfingers

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