#'i'm done here. we can both lose'
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russenoire · 2 years ago
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「もういい。お互い負けでいい。」 will never not give me chills for this reason. here shigeo is entirely conscious... and gives no fucks.
Studio bones can try their best into making ???% seem like the scariest percentage with how they adapted the final arc, but no… 100% resignation will always be the scariest percentage
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crossbackpoke-check · 19 days ago
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yOu'Re gOiNg fOr a LiTeR? | "Habs react to Quebec Maple facts", 10.22.24
#guys this is not becoming a regular thing this is just the mental illinois breaking through but ALSO I SAW THIS AND SCREAMEDDDDD#they did this For Me. those are all my guys. like yes yes we know about xhekovský but that’s my adopted austrian son david reinbacher!!!#that’s my baby goalie carey price time travel cowboy son cayden primeau!!!! and i just LOVE that they were like#‘yeah so one of them is gonna be a bitch in both pairs. & yeah we’re gonna make them lose.’ & i am HERE for it. you know the media day vid#where they asked all of them who was brat on the team and like 75% said slaf which we all KNEW? yes. correct. even more evidence godddd#also empathize so much with him because i hate feeling stupid & he is notably like. a very smart guy w/good awareness of broader society#and sorry to get like this on a silly little post i’m about to fanfiction-ify before i have xhekovský hours but so much of this goes back#to the xenophobia in the nhl and how we treat players (not only that. people in north am/west tbh) whose first language is not english#and degrade/discredit them and their intelligence by virtue of their multilingualism and how we even think about multilingualism as a whole#e.g. the sense that certain languages are perceived as more ‘valuable’ capital/the support that SHOULD be there for language learning simpl#is not from what i can tell in the nhl so even if you wanted to foster an environment of intercultural competency they’re doing nothing to#support it. the stories!! of so many guys! reliant solely upon their teammates for basic necessities! WHERE is your language acquisition#programming. sorry the linguistics language and culture attempted to jump out there & i am not conveying what i want to say at ALL. anyway#juraj's slow descent into madness as u can SEE him visibly getting more & more over it & done is my roman empire. like he's having fun#at first he's laughing 'what is this whiskey?' & i AM thinking that toothy little grin at arber with the jerkoff hand motion about the mapl#syrup only taking a few minutes to come (out) was a dig. lord knows arber deserved it with his shorts pulled all the way up like GOD the me#you put here to wear slutty little 3" shorts live in cold CANADA and have to cover up their thigh tattoos. what a travesty. and the amount#of THIGH in this video i- biting. arber's hairy legs slaf's manspreading more as he gets frustrated & arber teases him i. and DAVID????#on a completely different note cayden with his face covered is giving me INTENSE brainworms i have the most unhinged storylines for him#AND THE BRYNDZOVE HALUSKYYYY everything past 2:00 is gold. david's tired sighs. slaf hating it here. arber having the time of his life#'taste' 'that's not an advantage' DAVID kill him. 'maple syrup specialist... normal guy 🤷' slaf you are the WORST loser and ily for it#arber defending his wife w/his life... juraj's the smartest guy in the room & arber's on his leash about it. it goes both ways (to be cont)#juraj slafkovský#arber xhekaj#david reinbacher#cayden primeau#montreal canadiens#i'm xhekovský posting leave me alone i'm also *****
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cuntwrap--supreme · 2 months ago
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Dog tripped pretty hard while playing this morning (we play with a ball in the parking lot if the weather is too gross for her to want to go on a walk), and I get home today to find her not even standing on her front left leg. She's been given pain/anti-inflamatory medicine, but I had to carry her ass (65lbs) down the stairs, so we're just hanging in the living room today. I've only gone upstairs to shower, and she didn't listen to me telling her to stay downstairs and that's lame of her, but I can't let her do that again. Might even sleep on the couch so she doesn't feel pressured to walk upstairs with me.
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scatteredshowersposts · 2 months ago
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Playing God (Paramore)
How can that be logical? Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat
2. STFU! (Rina Sawayama)
Silence, finally in my head But it’s too late, you already left You’re preaching, even though I’m dead
3. Je me promets (Meryem Aboulouafa)
كيفما سارت ا لأقدار و رفعتني عاليا ثم لطختني مع ا لأ رض و اشتق عظمي و سال دمي أعدني أني سأحيي فخري من الرماد الحمر الداف و أولع من عدمي حتى تشتعل في الحياة
However fate goes, if it lifts me high then sullies me with the ground and my bones split and my blood flows, I promise myself I will revive my honor from the warm red ash and blaze with my nothingness until life goes up in flames
4. Dig Me Out (Sleater Kinney)
Dig me out, dig me in Out of this mess, baby, out of my head Dig me out, dig me in Out of my body, out of my skin
5. Nada (Lido Pimienta)
Yo te soy sincero Y no le tengo miedo A la muerte Si es que me quiere Aquí la espero de frente y sonriente
I’m honest with you And I’m not afraid Of death If she wants me I’ll wait for her here, facing her and smiling
6. Magnet (Bikini Kill)
You don’t own me, fuck! You hold me down like a magnet And this is not the life for me
7. Courage to Change (Sia)
World, I want to leave you better I want my life to matter I am afraid I have no purpose here
8. I Bet on Losing Dogs (Mitski)
My baby, my baby Tell your baby that I’m your baby
9. A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) (Debora Iyall)
She's on the mend and knows that she's earned The scars and the lines By and by - one step at a time Her love can dazzle and delight - she transcends
#safu#no. 6 safu#no.6 safu#no. 6#no.6#1 + 2 = we fucking hate that doctor guy. and remember safu is also a scientist.#3 = i am so sad and so lonely and hurting so badly but i think i want to take this world down with me#4 = i do not want to be alive anymore and i am VERY ANGRY#5 = i am above everything i have experienced in this mortal life and also i'm ready to die because this is hell#6 = we fucking HATE that doctor guy AND we hate no. 6#7 = literally why am i still 'alive' suffering like this. oh but i have access to an ancient god's power? ok let's fuck things up#8 = shion is her baby; nezumi is his baby; they're both the losing dogs; and safu is losing by their side.#9 = let's set the record straight - she saved herself because shion + nezumi would have died on the first floor without her#i think this is truly the end of the content but i keep saying that haha#just wanna be clear with everyone that even though so far all i've done on here is talk about boys - I AM A LESBIAN and i love safu#really wish asano had given us more of her thought process in like merging with elyurias + deciding that she was gonna save shion/nezumi#and ask them to destroy everything#i wanted to see safu's rage#i am 100000% convinced she was still there when her projection talked to shion#i do not believe that that was just elyurias/mother creating a version of her i think it was her#that's my little onion#i know i'm reusing artists but again probably no one will listen to these except me so i can do what i want :)#amiga date cuenta by sailorfag is my song to safu lmao#translation for arabic is from 'lyricstranslate' which gives no attribution
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ebodebo · 4 months ago
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Tough As Nails—Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy
thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part one |
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He had become a nuisance. A pest, a headache. Every single adjective you can think of to describe a pain in the ass he was.
Your father's ranch hand, whom he hired all of six months ago, had become something of a bother, an inconvenience to you. He was annoying and stubborn. Narrowed his eyes at you too often for your liking. Scoffed when you would correct him. And scolded you when you would have people on the property when your parents would leave town—even going so far as to kick your guests off the property altogether.
But tonight would be different; it was the Fourth of July. You would happily throw your party in the barn your family owns, on the property they own. You weren't going to let him order you around tonight.
"What the hell is all of this?" Simon seethed, taking in the concrete floor covered in empty beer bottles and spilled grain. His booming voice caused some partygoers to straighten up, though no one dared to speak.
He clenched his jaw at the lack of cooperation. "Huh?" He paused, his fists clenching so hard they began to turn white.
"So, no one can speak?" He walked over to a guy sitting on a bale of hay, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him off the hay tossing him aside.
"Get the fuck off my hay." He gritted to the guy.
"Where is she?" All he could think about was the little pain in his ass who was responsible for this. The guy he pulled off the hay immediately pointed towards an old wooden outhouse away from the barn.
Simon rolled his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. "If I come back and any of you are still here." He looked over everyone.
"I will not hesitate to shoot you for trespassing."
Safe to say, everyone in the barn scrambled out of the barn at that very second. Simon turned on his heels and stalked over to the outhouse, where he saw you leaning up against the outside with a guy's hands roaming your body, making out.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" You jumped at the sound of his voice, pushing the guy on you off your body.
"Sim—"
"Don't." He moved closer, standing directly in front of you, pointing his finger at you. "Don't Simon me."
"It's the Fourth of July, Simon. Lighten up."
"Do you realize your idiot friends spilled hundreds of dollars worth of grain and fucked with your dad's equipment?" All he had to do was glance at the guy just kissing you for him to go scurrying off.
"Shit, I shouldn't have left them alone. I wasn't thinking." You curse, looking up at him to meet his eyes.
"Ya, you're right." He stepped closer.
“You don't think." He gritted out before continuing.
"You're impulsive. Reckless."
Your eyes widen at his words. Who does this guy think he is? "Don't forget you work for me."
He lets out a deep, dry chuckle. "Actually, I work for your dad." 
"Whatever." You scoff as you take a step to walk past him.
"We are not done talking." He reaches out to grab your wrist; you swiftly turn your head to look up at him.
"I'm done listening to you." You grit out, eyes full of anger.
"Oh, is that it?" He scoffs out as you take a step away, only to trip over a wide hole in the ground, making both of you topple over, him falling on top of you. He's quick to plant a hand on the ground before, so his entire body weight isn't on you.
After you recognize the pain from the fall, you look up at Simon, who's on top of you, eyes boring into yours. Your pulse increases at the proximity, and your breath becomes more shallow.
His eyes blazed with fury, yours full of irritation. You can't help but glance at his lips, hovering not too far away from your own. This little action made him lose it. His self-control was already hanging on by a single thread, and the look you gave was what finally cut through. His lips crashed onto yours with such force that it took your air away.
It wasn't gentle or tender. It was desperation, months of built-up vexation. It was downright sinful.
You gasp once his lips meet yours but quickly return the sentiment. Your hands move to glide through his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, making him groan.
He yanks his cowboy hat off as he grips your waist to flip you so you are now on top of him, straddling his waist as he sits up.
"I thought you didn't like me." You smugly remark as he connects his lips to the side of your neck, and his hands start undoing buttons on your top.
"Like has nothing to do with this." He murmurs into your neck, lightly nipping at your sensitive skin, making you sigh.
"Keep telling yourself that, Cowboy." You jest, grabbing the back of his neck bringing him back up to your lips, already greedy for another taste of him.
He continues working on undoing your top buttons as his tongue collides with yours, and your teeth graze his own.
He cups your breast over the fabric of your bra as soon as he gets the buttons undone, making you whimper. His hand slips down to grip the fat of your ass as he leans in so his lips are lightly grazing your ear.
"You do it on purpose, don't you?" You could feel the roughness of his voice so close to your ear. You leaned into his lips grazing your ear.
"Do what?" You breathe out as his hand roams from your ass to the front of your belt, gently unclasping your belt buckle.
"You playin' dumb now?" He questioned, gently nipping at your ear lobe. The sensation made you let out a low moan before roughly grabbing his face and connecting your lips back to his.
He matched your hungry kiss, reciprocating an even hungrier one of his own as he tossed your belt off to the side and slid off your pitiful excuse for jean shorts down past your thighs.
He quickly undid his belt buckle and threw it off to the side, sliding his jeans down.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." You breathe out, reaching between the two of you to release him from the confines of his boxers.
His mouth went dry at your touch. "Do what exactly?" He choked out as you carefully pumped him up and down.
"Ride you." You casually said as you slipped your already-soaked thong to the side to accommodate him. He could have come at your words. He almost did, but a quick relay of the steps to clean an AR-15 suppressed the urge. 
You grip him and slip him inside your dripping cunt, hissing at the contact. He grips your hips and gently sinks you lower, groaning as you grind into him. 
He brought his face closer to plant deep, wet kisses on your lips before groaning into your mouth as you continued your movements. "Fuck. Just like that." 
Your entire body erupted with goosebumps, and your nipples hardened at the sentiment. You grip his shoulders tightly, but before you pick up your pace, you hear a familiar truck pulling up to the gate of your family's ranch.
"Is that—" You begin before he thrusts into you, making you moan and throw your head back.
"So fuckin' sensitive." He leaned into your exposed neck and licked a strip up to your lips that were slightly parted. 
"Better come quick, sweetheart." He pants, gently bouncing you up and down on his cock, fingers digging into the tender flesh on your hips. 
"Wouldn't want your parents to see you riding me. Would you now?" You let out a pathetic whimper, bringing your hand down to swirl circles on your aching clit, while he wraps a strong arm around your waist to hold you in place as he drills himself into you.
Each thurst, each swirl of your finger, made you feel a sense of nirvana you didn't even know was possible to get to. It was pure bliss. That and his dirty tongue were spewing such filthy words that were making you wetter than you ever knew was possible.
"Tell me you're about to come because—” His pleading voice sends a final wave of heat through you.
"Fuck. Yes, I'm coming." You yelp, slipping your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light roots again. He silently curses as he comes, gripping you tighter and pressing your chest against his own.
By the time both of your orgasms subside, he silently and gently eases you up to assist you in pulling your thong and jean shorts back on. Then, he casually fixes his jeans and grabs his belt to put back on.
You glance at him, picking up his cowboy hat from the ground and carefully wiping off some dirt that had gotten on it. Though he doesn't slip it back on his head, as a shock to you, he places the hat on your head. It was a little big on you, so it fell a bit more in the front, slightly covering your eyes.
"Keep it.” He says, bending down to pick up your belt and buckle, gently slipping it around your waist and clasping it. He gently pats the buckle clasped in the front, then looks down at you before speaking.
"You earned it."
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a/n: who the fuck even wrote this
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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devilishcupid · 1 year ago
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CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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peachesofteal · 1 year ago
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
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5sospenguinqueen · 5 months ago
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Princess Party Pt 2 | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader
Summary: After a drunken night with his best friend, Lando ran away from the consequences. Over the next eight months, he's reminded that he made a huge mistakes.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Pregnancy. Lando redemption.
Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.
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YourUserName posted a new story
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georgerussell replied to your story
georgerussel63 let’s hope that bean doesn’t expect homemade treats in the future
→ YourUserName this is exactly why i’m crying so thanks for the reminder!
→ georgerussell63 oh no, i was joking. i'm so sorry! don’t cry! i’m on my way with ice cream
→ YourUserName i’m over ice cream now. i'll take hot dogs?
→ georgerussell63 don’t tell charles. he just released an ice cream line for you
charles_leclerc replied to your story
charles_leclerc don’t cry, y/n/n. bean has a life supply of free ice cream. she won’t even like cookies
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName not long now. (i believe george called this nesting)
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lilymhe counting down the days until i become a godmother
→ francisca.cgomes lily we’ve talked about this. i know the number for a good therapist, help with your delusions
→ alex_albon ladies, ladies, please. we’ve already had this fight. you both lose
→ georgerussell63 you all lose because i’m the only contender for godmother
→ YourUserName none of you are godmother unless you show up to meet bean in a red sparkly dress and a wand
→ georgerussell63 stop watching shrek 2
→ YourUserName never!!!
oscarpiastri the room is really coming together. those drawers look amazing
→ YourUserName i ask you to help me build one piece of furniture and i never hear the end of it
danielricciardo 2 months to go! not that i’m counting. or excited. in any way shape or form
flonorris1 such a beautiful room. bean has such an amazing mum 
charles_leclerc baby incoming!
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YourUserName posted a new story
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liked by carmenmmundt, yoursister and others
alex_albon replied to your story
alex_albon bean's just training to be an F1 driver 
→ YourUserName isn't the term usually footballer 
→ alex_albon oh, please. that kid won’t be a footballer if uncle george and i have anything to do with it. we’ll make her the first female wdc 
→ YourUserName my poor baby. what untalented uncles she has
→ alex_albon oi! 
georgerussell63 replied to your story
georgerussell63 carmen says bean was kicking so much because she’s excited to meet her aunty
→ YourUserName and carmen would be right 
→ georgerussell63 i told carmen it was because bean heard my voice and loves me so much already 
→ YourUserName and you would be wrong
→ georgerussell63 pregnancy has made you mean
→ YourUserName nah, the hormones just make you less tolerable
→ georgerussell63 after all i’ve done :(
→ YourUserName <3
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others
YourUserName welcome to the world baby bean l/n-norris tagged: landonorris
1,098 comments
landonorris my two beautiful girls. no words will ever express the amount of love and gratitude i have for you but i will spend the rest of my life trying to show you
→ danielricciardo simp
carlossainz55 congratulations. you make beautiful parents
alex_albon little bean is the most beautiful girl ever. i don’t think i’ve stopped crying since you named me godfather
→ lilymhe he really hasn’t. but tbf, i haven’t stopped crying since you named me godmother
→ yoursister i still think she should revoke alex's godfather title. traitor
→ alex_albon i apologised!!
→ georgerussell63 it means nothing!!! 
charles_leclerc baby bean is here! i am so excited. we can have little playdates
→ alexandrasaintmleux charles, i don’t think bean will be able to play with leo for a good while
→ YourUserName no but i can! bring him over!! 
danielricciardo who’s crying? not me. let me know when you feel ready for visitors as i may have bought a ‘few’ things
georgerussell63 beautiful girls. thank you so much for letting me be part of this journey, and for naming me godfather 
→ YourUserName it’s a thank you for driving me to the hospital and holding my hair back whilst i puked. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you and carmen
carmenmmundt it was such an honour to be part of this beautiful journey with you. 
→ YourUserName thank you for being there for me. bean and i cannot wait for our first brunch date with aunty carmen
maxverstappen1 i am very happy for the both of you. she’s beautiful 
oscarpiastri the most beautiful baby. i hope she’s enjoying that dresser 
→ YourUserName let it go, pookie x
francisca.cgomes i haven’t taken my godmother hoodie off since you gifted it to me
→ pierregasly can confirm. i'm sick of looking at shrek’s face anytime i walk behind her
mclaren our beautiful papaya baby. we can already promise that she will be the most spoiled girl in the paddock. we’re already setting up a racing nursery 🧡
→ mercedesamgf1 except she will be spending time in our garage
landonorris just posted
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and others 
landonorris to my beautiful daughter and her astounding mother. i am in awe of the pair of you. for the past nine months, i have been the biggest idiot on the planet. and yet both of you welcomed me back into your lives without a second thought. y/n, i have loved you since we were 12 and you kissed me because i grazed my knee falling off my bike. instead of telling you that, i dragged you around the world with me whilst i raced, falling more in love with you each day. your generosity and kindness never fail to wow me. to those who don't know, i was a complete idiot. i ran away from my responsibilities and yet, she didn’t hesitate in giving me a second chance. not just as a father but as a partner. she brought our beautiful bean into the world, and i will forever cherish the pair of you. you are my whole world, and if i ever upset either of you, george has full permission to run me over with his car. to y/n and bean, i love you both forever. you are my everything.
7,995 comments
alex_albon i’m so happy for you, mate. you owe me for all the grey hairs you gave me
→ landonorris i’m grateful for your friendship, mate. i owe you for so much more than just that haha
→ YourUserName @ alex_albon you’re still in trouble
→ lilymhe yes he is
carlossainz55 felicidades, compañero 🥳❤️
danielricciardo well done, brother. y/n did an amazing job. i’m glad you took responsibility
fernandoalo_official what a beautiful family. make sure you cherish it
georgerussell63 y/n made such a beautiful bean
→ landonorris hey, part of my dna is there too (but, yes, yes she did)
→ georgerussell63 unfortunately
oscarpiastri the caption is why you kept asking me for synonyms? but seriously, i’m so glad to have been part of this journey for both of you
pierregasly 🥳🥳🥂
mclaren papaya baby! we cannot wait to see baby bean in the paddock. she’ll be the most important part of race week
arthur_leclerc i cannot believe someone willingly had a baby with you, especially someone as beautiful as y/n 
               liked by YourUserName
user1 anyone else notice that none of the wags commented on this post despite y/n being in it?
→ user2 you can guarantee they all commented on hers though because they’ve all been gushing about buying baby stuff 
→ user3 they really said y/n may have forgiven him but we certainly don’t
user4 y/n stronger than me because if my baby daddy walked away from me and my child for the entire pregnancy just to decide he wanted to be a father once it was born, i’d cut his dick off
user5 guys, not only did we finally get lando and y/n together. we got mom and dad y/n and lando together
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landonorris just posted 
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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri and others 
landonorris happy 1st birthday to my prettiest princess. you’re my favourite mini muppet in the world but if you don’t stop growing then you and daddy are going to have some words. (also, daddy best be the only prince charming in your life) 
15,449 comments
YourUserName whoa whoa whoa, i thought you were my prince charming
→ landonorris sorry babe but you know you lost me the minute i looked into her eyes 
→ YourUserName and here i go crying again 
danielricciardo mate, do you really think calling yourself daddy in an insta post is a good idea?
→ landonorris @ YourUserName pay up, i told you he’d make it weird
→ YourUserName damn it, daniel. you just cost me a back massage 
georgerussell63 and best godfather of the year award goes to me for the princess castle
→ alex_albon liar! best godfather of the year ‘twas me. she danced with me the most and wanted me to have the second slice of cake
oscarpiastri can’t believe princess bean locked me in the dungeon 
→ landonorris she wasn’t impressed that you overtook me last weekend 
→ oscarpiastri sucks to suck, i guess 
francisca.cgomes i still can’t believe my baby brunch buddy is 1!! when did that happen? 
→ landonorris @ YourUserName has enjoyed playing with the brunch kitchen kit more than bean has
→ YourUserName why would you expose me this way? i pushed a kid out for you
alex_albon happy birthday baby bean! can’t believe it’s been a whole year of spoiling you
→ User6 does this mean alex has been forgiven?
→ YourSister no. 
→ alex_albon don’t lie to the internet. you gave me a hug earlier
→ lilymhe it was only so she could spit in your drink, honey
charles_leclerc happy birthday, bean! she is the most adorable little girl. i think i will need to wear my fairy wings on the weekend to help me go faster
→ pierregasly i’ve already told alpine that they need to add my tiara to the helmet
User7 okay but can we all appreciate the fact that this little girl had the majority of the Grid at her party, all dressed in some way as princesses 
→ User8 @ YourUserName c’mon, we all know you’re a girls’ girl, release the photos of the princess grid
→ YourUserName shh, i have to wait until they're racing so you've all got 2 hours to save them before they make me take them down
maxverstappen1 P had the best day with bean, and said that y/n is her new bestest friend
→ YourUserName aww my heart. please bring P around for playdates forever though, she’s the best kid 
→ kellypiquet she was so exhausted she fell asleep in her princess dress
→ YourUserName so did lando
→ landonorris hey! 
→ YourUserName you started it
User9 i think we’re all asking the same thing; when are you having the next one?
→ landonorris @ YourUserName so..? 👀
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Baby Fever Angst Series
F1 requests are open!
Tag list - so sorry if I missed anyone. It wasn’t finding a lot of people
@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @rosecentury @prettypink11 @emmynotawards @tinyhrry @sltwins @daemyratwst @lemon-lav @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bwormie @leclercsluvs @spanishcorndogs @hard4ndsoft @formulaal @classiclitfreak @weekendlusting @evesfile @powerpuffgirly @leclercvsx
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endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago
Text
Diet Pepsi (18+)
A modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader smutshot
When we drive in your car, I'm your baby So sweet Losing all my innocence in the backseat
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a/n : how do I explain this? I suppose the song Diet Pepsi got stuck in my head, and when I watched the music video, the only male lead I could envision in that sorta situation is our Aemond/Ewan. So here ya go! Reading time... depends on what you get into 😉💋
masterlist
themes/warnings : pure smut, filthy actions and filthy language, complete disregard for sports car interiors, old money boyfriend Aemond x bratty internet starlet girlfriend reader, sticky surfaces, foggy windows, wayward fingers, sliding tongues, and YES YES YES
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"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"
Your boyfriend glances at you from the corner of his eye, barely, his attention remaining on the road. But his veiny hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh, fully exposed beneath the scrap of pale pink fabric that you try to pass off as a miniskirt.
Mission accomplished. After only a few minutes of pretending to stew while looking out the window, he is quick to sense that something is amiss with his kitten.
"Nothing," you respond in the best downcast tone you can manage, fighting the urge to clench your thighs to trap his thick fingers in the warmth between.
"Come on now," he clicks his tongue, "don't play around."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You've barely looked at me since you got in the fucking car." Poor baby. You're getting to him, as planned.
Time to rile him up in a way that only you can. "Do you think Maris is pretty?"
He scoffs, "Don't start, kitten."
"So you do," you egg him on. "I knew it. You were looking at her tits earlier. I bet you loved it when that skank bent over in front of you. Gave you a good view."
"Kitten, please," his grip on your flesh tightens, trying to get you stop. "You're being ridiculous."
"And you didn't answer my question, Aemond," you snap back, grabbing his hand and prying it from your leg.
"Fuck's sake," he groans. He then rests both his hands on the steering wheel, at the standard 10 and 2, grasping onto it so roughly that the leather squeaks.
You called him Aemond. Not babe. Not handsome. You must be pissed, for some imagined reason, and he simply does not have the time.
Impatient, he goes off on a tirade, "You've asked me this shit before, babe, and my answer remains the same. I don't care about any other girl. You're the only one that I want, that I will ever want."
Licking your lips, and looking slyly at him behind your done-up eyelashes, you say, "You could've fooled me." He raises his brow at your childishness, muscles flexing under his tight white shirt as he makes a sharp turn. You continue, "I know what I saw. You want her, is that it? Is it because she's got status like you?"
"You have status," he corrects you, "The whole damn country practically knows your name."
"But it's not the same," you moan. "I didn't come from money. My blood isn't blue."
He sighs audibly, "We talked about this. None of that fucking matters, kitten. Especially not to me."
You cross your legs, leaning against the car door as if to inch away from him, your devilishly handsome silver-haired aristocratic boyfriend. The very one you're so keen on tormenting now. "You don't know how I feel."
But he does. You've long since lost track of the countless times you've been blindsided by an uncharacteristic wave of self-doubt. You, infamous for being one of the bubbliest and most outgoing personalities on the internet, your lifestyle guides and fashion spreads a mainstay on every social media platform.
But ever since you started dating Aemond, you can't help but feel unworthy sometimes. He is Aemond Targaryen after all, a glowing young heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, his lineage extending back to the great Valyrian empire.
Old money, as they say. That was his life, but before him, you thought old money was just some fashion trend that dominated your Pinterest boards.
You met at a charity gala for the Hightower Foundation. Unaware of who he was, he was simply a hot guy you set your sights on, and you managed to get his attention by accidentally spilling your espresso martini down his crisp tailored shirt.
Women were not usually that forward when approaching him, especially not those who ran in the same circles as him, like the Baratheon sisters or the Tyrell heiress. But you were different. You were simply, unabashedly yourself. Your biggest asset was you - your personality, your style, your genuine warmth that allows you to build connections with anyone in the industry - you didn't walk into a room with the snootiness and entitlement of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
The chemistry was instant, overriding any superficial issues that may arise from someone like him getting with someone like you. Which is why you snuck out of the gala together, and fucked each other senseless in the backseat of his car, sweaty and giggling and whispering sweet nothings like you were already long-time lovers back then.
As you are now, nearly two years later. Aemond's love for you has only grown a thousand fold, and he shows this every day.
The car idles at a stop sign. He reaches for your face and implores, "Kitten, look at me, please."
"No," you impetuously say, making him drop his hand.
"Baby, come on."
"Don't feel like it, Aemond."
The light turns green. The car zooms past houses and open fields. Shops and smaller, unknown places of business. They all come together in a blur. The tension is at an all-time high in the car, just as you intended.
He makes several maneuvers, and the scenery outside begins to look unfamiliar to you. The street you enter next is particularly quiet, almost empty, all the shops closed for the day or boarded up. It's likely on the outskirts of King's Landing, far from the Targaryen estate in its central area of Red Keep.
"You still gonna be a brat?" he asks lowly.
You smirk, "Don't call me a fucking brat."
"Have it your way, kitten," he says, and it sounds like a promise. The car pulls up to a vacant parking lot behind an old restaurant, the surrounding area covered by a thin tree line. There is no one, and nothing in sight.
He leans back, and takes a few deep breaths.
"You've been a bad girl, my kitten."
"Have I?" you bite your lip, no longer fighting the urge to clench your thighs. The miniskirt rides up higher, and his eyes become drawn to the sight, his cock hardening underneath his blue jeans.
He hums, leaning over and grabbing your jaw towards him with one hand, "Yeah, bringing shit up like that. Like I would ever look at anyone besides you."
"Wouldn't you?"
"Want me to fucking mention the time you actually flirted with the Stark boy in front of me?"
"I wasn't - "
"Shut up, kitten," he spits. "I'm not dumb."
His voice dips low, and you feel your cunny growing wet and slick. Gods, he is so hot like this. Assertive yet downright sensual. He only wants one thing, and you will surrender it to him in a heartbeat.
"What you gonna do 'bout it, handsome?" You lick your gloss-covered lips and you are caught off guard when he pushes his thumb inside and orders, "Suck."
You obey. His pupil significantly dilates in one eye, while the sapphire fixture in the other glints beautifully. He looks regal, and he's all yours.
"That's right," he breathes, his vision clouding over in lust as he feels the pad of your tongue, "fucking minx. Always so insolent, huh?"
"Mhmmm." When tears blur the corners of your eyes, he takes his hand and sucks right where you did. Then he pulls you in roughly, kissing you with everything in him, the lewdest grunts of pleasure escaping him when you push your tongue past his teeth.
"Come... come 'ere," he places you on top of himself, straddling him in the driver's seat, the lace of your underwear rubbing against his denim. "Gods, this fucking skirt." He pokes at it, lips curling. "You torture me, darlin'. Now you gotta make up for it."
You jut your bottom lip out, dragging your bright pink fingernails across his cheek. His mouth parts at the sight of his pretty little kitten practically begging for it.
"Is that so, handsome? Why don't you make me?"
He anchors his fingers in the thin bands of your underwear and in a sure and decisive flash of movement, he rips the material apart. He throws it over his shoulder, and it lands in the backseat, among the littered lollipop and bubblegum wrappers you leave behind. He loves it when you suck on that hard candy shell in front of him. It's partially the reason why your penchant for sweet treats has gotten worse.
Your pussy is exposed to the cool draft coming from the AC of his car, and it's a good and familiar sensation. He fondles your clit, little slow circles, making you whimper. He presses on, eager to unwrap his kitten like a piece of candy to be devoured. The zip of your miniscule skirt slides down, and your bare ass and cunny is revealed to him.
"Gods fucking damn, kitten," he rasps, then slowly buries three whole fingers into your slickness, spreading your folds, pumping in and out.
"Aghhhh, baby," erupts from your glossy mouth, breath hitching as he picks up the pace. In and out. Out and in.
His face appears almost sinister, clouded over in lust, his bottom lip trapped under bunny teeth, but then he whispers, "I love you, kitten. I love you so fucking much," and you see him as your Aemond. He's offering more than just his body - to you, he has already surrendered his heart and soul.
"I love you too, baby," you respond in as firm of a voice as you can manage, made even more difficult when he probes that sweet spot inside your sopping cunt.
You leak onto his fingers, droplets of your milky white substance beginning to pool in his palm.
"Ask me again," he snarls, shapely lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth.
"Wh-what?" you reply in a daze.
"That stupid question," he says. His pace doesn't slow; if he keeps up, you just might forget how to speak, save for incoherent noises that make his cock twitch.
"You'd rather be... b' with... a fancy heiress," you try, pausing when he pinches your hardened nipple over your crop top with his other hand. "Maris... Baratheon... or Floris... or - "
"Look at me, princess," he says, "You feel that? You feel me? There's your fucking answer."
"Not enough," you shake your head feebly, keeping up the ruse. Judging by the buldge he sports, he's into it too.
Smirking, he pulls his glistening fingers out of you, and helps you out of your crop top. He chucks the material somewhere, before ducking his head and nipping at the mounds of your breasts.
"Unnnghhh," you hear him, muffled by your flesh. He undoes your lace bra and sucks wildly. You cradle his head with both hands, keeping him pressed against your tits. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, and he angles his face so that your eyes meet when he takes a nipple in his mouth.
"Shit, baby," you whimper, heating up all over from the sheer intimacy of it all.
His mouth lets you go with a resounding pop, and he tilts his head toward the backseat, hands gripping your hips to guide you. He follows suit, removing his white shirt in the process, as well as his jeans, shimmying them off his legs as he scrambles after you.
He smacks your ass with an open palm as it is raised in front of him in full view, the sharp sting of it only making you grow wetter.
You shuffle onto your hands and knees, looking back to see him already in position. His fine Valyrian steel chain dangles from his neck, the one thing still on his person. His boxers are also discarded, and his length is fully erect, slapping his stomach when he leans over to hastily cover your mouth with his. Your tongues battle for dominance, drool dripping down your chins. You feel a strain in your neck from twisting back to accommodate his kiss, but you don't care.
You feel it poking at your backside, feel him, his cock all slippery from hot precum dribbling down the sides.
He rocks back, hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you in the prime position for him to take.
In a swift movement that nearly drives you insane, he twists downward until his face is level with your opening, and he buries his tongue in your soaking pussy. You know he likes it rough, so do you, and this is his way of getting you ready.
"Fuuckkk," you collapse forward, the side of your face colliding with the smooth leather seat. He twirls his tongue around, and you swear you can see stars.
You must have blacked out for a split second, delirious from the high only he can give you, because a moment later you feel his tip edging itself slowly into your cunt.
"Ready, baby?" he asks.
"Fuck me," is your strained plea.
His cock stretches you out, inch by inch, your slicked walls straining against his sheer size. A whining noise leaves you, music to Aemond's ears, and when he's fully sheathed, he exhales, "So pretty. Such a good little slut for me, kitten." That sends you over the edge.
You move forward slightly, then back again, your ass slamming right into his pelvis. He gets the message, smart boy that he is.
With an animalistic growl, he proceeds to frantically buck his hips into you, his huge cock just about splitting you open. He slaps your ass as he goes, making you tremble.
Each thrust sends shockwaves throughout your body, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Your dripping cunt begins to feel that familiar ache, your lower belly spasming from his ceaseless thrusts. Your knees threaten to buckle, and if they do, you imagine that his firm throbbing shaft will be enough to keep you propped up.
"Aemond... baby... " your moans echo in the car, joined by his, "Yes... yes, kitten... so fucking good, taking me like this... pussy so sweet for me... "
The filthiest of words spill from the two of you like prayers from the damned, just begging to be answered. And seven hells, with the way Aemond makes you feel like you're floating amongst the skies, he just might be your salvation.
He does not relent, intent on rearranging your insides with how deep he buries his cock inside of you. You don't want him to stop. You never do.
You have to hold onto something to keep steady, to keep from utterly flopping down in a mindless haze. Your palms reach for the fogged up windows, and Aemond angles your bodies so that you're half-seated atop his thighs. He grabs hold of your breasts as leverage, squeezing them as your leaking cunt squeezes his cock.
The angle allows him to fill you better, and that heated coil unfurls in your belly, a signal that you are about to reach your peak.
He draws forward, pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, licking your sweat with reckless abandon.
"Baby," he moans, "I'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... "
"Oh, yeah?" you answer in a high-pitched, wanton manner.
"Yeah," he breathes.
"You promise?"
He chuckles, and you feel the sound reverberating as your back is pressed to his chest.
"My sweet kitten," he purrs.
"I'm getting close, baby," you let him know, and he takes it as his cue to pound his cock inside faster. His lips are pressed to your ear, arms wrapped around your torso possessively.
He lets himself go, decorating your insides white with his Targaryen seed. You glance down and see it spilling out of your cunt, milky rivulets staining the once-pristine leather seat. His cock convulses in your pussy, waves of his release pulsing like fragmented aftershocks. It hits the right spot, bringing you to that little death, your walls contracting from the dizzying pleasure he gives you.
With that stupid and blissed-out smile on your face, you lean back, collapsing on top of him. You soon find yourselves curled together on the backseat, a mess of sweaty and satisfied limbs.
His silver hair is matted against his forehead, and you reach up and brush them away. He catches your hand and presses a loving kiss to the back of it.
He props his head up on one arm, as you draw lazy circles on the firm planes of his chest. You whisper sweet nothings to each other, as you had on the night you met.
"You should rile me up more often, you little brat," he smirks crookedly.
You roll your eyes, but peck his lips anyway with a cheeky smack, "Isn't that all I do, baby?"
"Sure, kitten," he says, "and I fucking love you for it."
"Oh, baby," you purr, and your wayward fingers reach down to stroke his half-erect cock. His brows raise in amusement, but it only takes several good pumps before his shaft is again taut from your touch. You whisper, "I love you too."
And so the second round begins.
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Taglists (refer here to be added)
Vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @9431789 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk
Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found
P.S. eagle-eyed readers can probably spot the nod to chemical override ;)
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Text
A Well Deserved Grudge
Summary: You still hate them after their overblot
Notes: GN Yuu. Some based off some stuff from the light novel. Yuu is pretty evil in Jamils. General edginess that comes with angst
Based on this old post abt Yuu with scars
Riddle Rosehearts
A familiar click of heels has you on edge. As they approach you turn around to face him, messing with some of the bandages around your neck from your last encounter. There stood Riddle, his confident stance dropping the second he meets your eyes. 
His usual piercing gaze filled with anxiety as the words he so wanted to say— needed to say— died on his tongue. He's such a coward without a rule book. He's even more cowardly under your scrutiny.
"What?” You deadpan at him and Riddle swallows, looking at the bandages on your neck and arms. He then looks at your face, covered in a few scratches from rose bushes.
“... I… am here to… ” His voice shook toward the end and he took a breath to steady himself. “I'm sorry Yuu. I didn't mean to hurt you.”
You merely raised a brow and fully turned to him. Riddle could see the gash along your neck that peeked through some of the bandages. A grim reminder on how his magic failed during his overblot. The expression you had on your face as the collar around your neck continued to tighten and cut into you haunts him.
“You’re apologizing?” A flicker of determination flashes in Riddle's eyes as he nods. 
“Yes. I know it's not enough but… I'm sorry.” The dullness of your eyes reminds the dormleader that this was far from enough to smooth things over.
“I do not forgive you.” He should have expected that, yet he winces still. What is he supposed to do in this scenario? What else does he say? There is no rule, no guide to what he has done. Deuce and Ace said that he needs to make things right, but how?
“... I understand. If there's anything I can do to earn your forgiveness, please–”
“I don't think there's anything you could do that makes this okay.” Your voice is dull as you pull at the bandages on your neck. “Shouldn't you be in the headmage's office fighting your expulsion?”
It was true. Crowley was to judge whether or not he was to be expelled for his actions. It scared him. “I… I am but–”
“Then go. We both know you won't be kicked out– Crowley doesn't have a backbone and your bitch of a mother will make sure you stay in. You want to ‘earn’ my forgiveness? Stay the hell away from me.” 
Riddle grits his teeth and closes his fist tighter. Emotions of all kinds surge through him. He's confused, he's guilty, he's angry, he's lost. 
Most of all, he's scared. Scared of your gaze, scared of how you hold yourself. Your eyes remind him so much of the ones above him he tries to please and they're boring into him with such disapproval.
“I don't want to see you around, get your shitty tantrums in check. Just because you lose your head doesn't mean others have to. Just go.”
By now you've turned away and started walking off. Riddle could only watch, unable to find the strength to move or say anything. It was probably for the better. He needs to go to the Headmage.
Jamil Viper
He hates this feeling. You have forgiven him, though and through, water under the bridge and he hates it. He hates how you shrug it off. He hates that you don't hate him. He hates this guilt.
He mind controlled you. You. A magicless and defenseless human who was already helping him. You who are in a position so similar to his. You who had no way to fight back. He kidnapped you, keeping you in Scarabia for days regardless of your own plans. If it weren't for your dorm ghosts feeding the fire fairies, Crowley would have cut off your food for the week.
Then he tried to kill you, and had the audacity to be angry at you for it. To add even more salt into the wound you were so kind with him afterwards. You didn’t seem to take it seriously. Take him seriously. Your attitude reminds him so much of Kalim which makes this even worse.
He hates your smile. He hates your attitude. He hates the way you have to walk because of your injuries. He hates seeing glimpses of the wounds on your abdomen from him.
Yet another reminder of his failures. How he hates someone that's not entirely to blame. How he hates someone that's overly nice. He avoids your gaze so often he doesn't notice the glints of satisfaction within it.
Vil Schoenheit
He could only stare at the prefect within the mirror. Their gaze so fixated on themselves and their new appearance they paid no mind to the hospital bed they should be laying in. He wants to lecture them to sit, lay back down and to stop sitting up, but he's sure they would break down if he did.
Blackened veins run along your body, your skin reddened and inflamed in random areas. Even with all the magical remedies the doctors have given you, the black tar like substance runs through you still. “Good going Vil. Really fucked that one up huh?” 
Vil’s eyes met yours in the mirror, he could see your face steel itself before you turned to him. Your eyes stood out against the inky scrawls of venom coursing through you. They were so cold, so angry.
“... I know this is something I may never be able to amend…” Vil starts, taking a breath. Fuck. Years of acting and hard work are lost on him. It is hard to keep strong when seeing how badly your own childishness, your own selfishness hurt someone this badly.
“I want to apologize. I know this is far from enough. I plan to not only cover any costs that may occur in your recovery, but to also offer my support in any way I can during your recovery.” 
Your gaze only hardens. "Bare minimum I guess…” You sniffle a bit as words slur. It was clear you were still inebriated. You weren't going to be the most logical right now, but that's fine. He will say this apology a million times over if it would make it right.
“... If there is anything you need..."
“Go away.” You sniffle again, wiping away tears. “Just leave.” Vil swallows and shuts his eyes for a moment. “I understand.” 
As he turns to leave the drugs in your system really start to kick in. “You… You really are a villain.” The words come out crude and harsh, no doubt you are speaking to hurt him. Yet as you turned away he could see your face in the mirror.
Scared. You were scared of him. You were scared and truly believed in what you were saying. And you weren't wrong. He is a villian.
Malleus Draconia
A mighty dragon places his glass heart in the hands of a human without their knowledge, and is enraged when the human breaks it. Except here Malleus broke it himself to protect himself from the possibility of the human hurting him first. Now he holds the shards of what's left and sees them stained not by his blood, but by yours.
A position he put onto you, his only friend. He does not even know if he has the right to call you that anymore. Not after his little stunt. Children of men do not deserve to be locked away in the dark, no matter how beautiful you were in it. They were to be free. Even if it hurt him. You and him could have been free together.
He looks at your expression. It still holds no fear, no anxiety, just as foolishly brave you were when he first met you. Instead it holds disappointment. Such a pathetic emotion that he would smite off anyone else if it wasn't you. 
“... You're really selfish, you know that?” You mutter and look away from him, as if not wanting to believe the words coming out of your own mouth. “Were we really friends or was I just some doll to you? Some obsession?”
A sniffle. “I wanted to be your friend…” Malleus hasn't the words to respond. He can only open his mouth then close it. “I know. I'm sorry. You made me so happy I wanted you all to myself. It's not an excuse, but when I thought I would be losing you, it was too much for me. I made… A very rash decision.”
There's silence. More deafening than the silence at his birthday parties growing up. “Is there any possibility you could forgive me?” It was a daring question, one he was afraid to know the answer to. 
“... I don't know, Tsuno. I think… I think I need some time to think about it.” You turn away from him and his heart sinks, the pet name does nothing to soothe his nerves.
He remembers all the times he's told you how his kind are born cruel and you would tell him that his actions have shown just how kind he could be. That him learning to be nice and overcoming his nature is more meaningful than anyone who was born that way. 
And he ruined that. He may not be able to choose his nature but he can choose his actions. He chose to hurt you.
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yinyuedijun · 4 months ago
Text
SINCERITY
Flirting with Suo is never a good idea—you can never tell whether he means to charm you or make fun of you when you do it. Sometimes it feels like both. Occasionally it feels mean. More often than not, you like to entertain it. But you can't right now, not when his blood is all over the washroom sink. Your manager will be furious about the mess, and also about the fact that you're giving first aid to three delinquents while you're on the clock. If Suo makes one more joke about marrying you, you'll probably throw up and cry. (Or: Suo, Nirei, and Sakura get into a fight in the red light district and go to you to get patched up. Suo takes the opportunity to tease you mercilessly.)
4.5k words, suo x reader with implied one-sided sakura x reader, sfw with mature themes. set post-canon (they are all 18-19 years old), non-canon backstory details for suo and sakura (speculative as of ch. 146). fem reader – references to gendered professions, e.g. hostessing; reader wears a dress for her job in a girls’ bar. warning for inaccurate depictions of first aid! dividers by @/cafekitsune.
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Suo’s never liked your job.
You suppose this is fair. The feeling is mutual. You’ve never liked the fact that Suo chose to go to a delinquent school rather than a proper high school, and he’s never liked the fact that you chose to drop out of your proper high school to go work in the red light district—first at a kyabakura, and now at a girls’ bar. His master, who also happens to be your master, has always told you that this was a natural reaction on his part. Having a secondary school certificate is important, after all. But Suo’s disapproval of your income sources, no matter how politely or subtly phrased, has always felt like it runs deeper than simple concern for your education.
Still, this has never stopped him from visiting you at your place of work, though he only tends to come by under the worst possible circumstances—tonight worse than any other.
When you see the three of them limping through the clamour and heat of the red light district—the neon glow of the street making the blood smeared across Suo’s face shine vibrantly—you entirely forget that you're on the clock. You chuck your sign onto the ground (3000¥ per hour! it reads) as you cut a path toward them, almost tripping in your stiletto heels. Your customer service voice gives way to your regular one, which is so outraged that it startles everyone around you.
“Suo, you motherfucker—are you trying to lose the only eye you have left?!”
Suo is unbothered. His smile is calm and deeply shameless as you approach him. It’s nothing like Nirei, who cringes at the furious look you give him, or Sakura, who looks like a deer caught in headlights when you round on him instead. Like he doesn’t know what to do at the fact that someone is worrying over him, and especially not when that person is wearing an extremely revealing evening gown. For a minute, you think he's going to bolt.
But Suo keeps him there, grip tight on his arm.
“Hi,” he says brightly, like there isn't blood all over his face and shoulder. “Are you busy? We might need to trouble you.”
“Of course I'm busy! I'm in the middle of a shift!” you fume at him. But you still extract Sakura from him, scruffing him by the neck before he can clam up and run. You pull him in the direction of your bar, and gesture for the other two to follow. “Hurry up before my manager sees you.”
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Smuggling three delinquents into the washroom of a girls’ bar is not a skill you thought you'd ever need, but it is one that you've become an expert in. This is at least the third time you've done it. The Furin trio rarely ever loses fights, but they occasionally slip up in the part of the red light district that isn't controlled by Roppo-Ichiza. This is somewhat unavoidable, as Keyaki Street is a different beast from Keisei Street. It isn't just delinquents here, but bona fide criminals. “Like, actual fucking Yakuza,” you grouse at Suo for the millionth time. You wipe at the blood remaining on his face—most of it you've already rinsed off, staining the melamine sink with iron—and the paper towel in your hand blooms red.
“But these guys weren't Yakuza,” he says cheerfully.
“They still pulled weapons on you! Bladed weapons!”
“Mm… well, that's true. I'm sorry.”
You scowl at him. “No, you're not.”
“No, I'm not.” He’s still smiling. “In our defense, we didn't have much of a choice. They were about to do something terrible to an innocent person,” he says, and you deflate a little, because you know Suo can't stand to see injustice. This is something you love very dearly about him, and also a quality of his that constantly raises your blood pressure. But then you roll your eyes when he happily adds, “And in my defense, it’s all our Captain’s fault!”
“Oi!” Sakura yells from one of the stalls, where he’s sitting and holding a bag of ice to a knot on his head. “Wasn’t my fault we ended up fighting. They were practically beggin’ to have their asses kicked.”
“You did provoke them, Sakura,” Nirei says. He's in the other stall, trying to stay off his sprained ankle.
“Well, they were dangerous! Not like you wanted to just leave them alone either,” Sakura grumbles, and Nirei apologises, though Suo accurately points out there is no need for him to. After hearing this story, you can't help but agree, and you suppose you shouldn't have expected any differently. After three years at Furin, Sakura is no longer the type to pick fights for no reason. Whatever those guys were up to must have been pretty bad for him to start shit in unfamiliar territory.
Still. The red light district is what it is. Touts, street gangs, and Yakuza are constantly causing problems here, with violence of a scale and nature that Bofurin simply don't see on their own turf. Your street in particular makes someone like Endo look like a joke. “You should still learn to exercise some restraint,” you say to Sakura. “And you”—you give Suo a miserable look—“you know the area. You should have known better. At the very least, you should have called me for backup.”
“But you were on the clock,” Suo points out, and you frown. Despite having absolutely no need, you take out an alcohol wipe and swipe it over his cut. He winces.
“I'm still on the clock now,” you reply, voice dry, “and here you are, distracting me anyway. My boss is going to be on my ass about it if I don't bring in any customers tonight, you know.”
“We can be your customers,” Suo offers.
“You aren't old enough to drink!”
“Neither are you, yet you work here.” His gaze has turned a little sharp. His voice too. You blink, suddenly mollified.
“...okay. If each of you buys a drink after this, I’ll call us even.” Then you glance down at his changshan, which is sliced through, the pearly silk stained red at the shoulder. He’s insisted that the wound is unserious and said that he'd rather clean up his face first, and you're starting to question his priorities. “That is, if you don't have to go to the hospital after this.”
“I don't.”
“I don't know if I believe you.” You pull out some polysporin. “Come closer.”
Suo could do this on his own. His hands aren't incapacitated. But he humours you, as he's always humoured you, and allows you dab his cut with the antibiotic. You feel a little sentimental as you do it, and almost a little sad. Doing this reminds you of when he was a kid who had just started learning martial arts. Granted, he never got any real cuts back then, but sometimes he’d scrape his knees or his elbows or—god forbid—his face, and you would plaster bandaids all over him when he did. But none of those were real injuries.
More than anything, doing this reminds you of when he lost his eye. The state that he was in after the accident. The way his face was bandaged after the surgery. The texture of the gauze against your fingers when you asked to try swapping out the dressings for him.
If Suo notices the way your lip is trembling, he doesn't comment on it.
“You’re so mean—how come you never believe anything I say?” he asks. You press the gauze to his cut with more pressure than necessary, and he blinks. He opens his mouth again, but then the door rattles violently.
“Sorry!” you yell. “Washroom’s closed for cleaning!” You wince as you hear complaints in reply—you’ve been closed for half an hour!—and shoot Suo a sour look as the customer leaves. “I’m really risking it all for you three,” you remark.
“I'll make it up to you,” Suo says. “I'll stick around the whole night and buy as many drinks as you want. Your manager won't be able to hassle you about anything then.”
“No way. You're not wasting that much money on the red light district.” You frown. “Master will kill me if I let you piss away your inheritance like that.”
“I’m not wasting my money on the red light district. I'm wasting it on you.”
“Well, I'm employed at a girls’ bar, so when you waste money on me, you are in fact spending it on the red light district.”
“Then you should quit so I can spend as much money on you as I want.”
“Quit and then live on what income?” You set aside the first aid kit and grab some more paper towel. “Take off your shirt.”
“Oh? Right here? Right now?” His eye goes wide. “How forward.”
Sakura coughs very, very loudly from the stall. If you weren't so used to Suo saying this kind of thing just to mess with you, you'd probably do the same. In fact, you'd probably choke on your spit and die on the spot. But as it is, you only sigh and start unbuttoning Suo’s changshan, starting at the high collar. Any sentimentality or concern you previously felt is quickly drowned out by annoyance.
“Suo.”
“Don’t worry—I don't mind,” he adds. “I thought you'd never ask. I just didn't think it’d happen here. And so suddenly.”
“Don’t do that. I can't do this today.”
“Don’t do what?” he says innocently. He lets you slip his changshan off one shoulder. To your relief, the cut does look very shallow—he’s too quick for anything other than a bullet to land a serious hit on him, you guess—but you still swallow when you see it. It looks like he's bled a lot more than he probably actually has.
Or you hope so, anyway.
“Joke like that,” you reply after a moment. “It's very mean.”
“I’m not joking about anything.” You feel his eye on you as you start dabbing at all the red on his skin, the paper towel in your hands blotting crimson as if with ink. Your breath shakes as you study the wound. He lifts his hand, his knuckle brushing against your cheek. You smack it away, but he doesn't seem bothered. “I was being very serious,” he continues. “Quit working in the red light district and let me support you instead.”
“Suo,” you say, your voice flat, “there is no job you could qualify for on this planet that will let you earn more than what I'm making now. If anything, you should let me support you.”
“Ah,” he says brightly. “I get it now—you want me to be your trophy husband!”
Now you are choking on your spit and you do think you're dying. Sakura sounds like he's not doing much better—something bangs loudly against the washroom stall, and you assume it’s his forehead. Even Nirei is affected, not-so-subtly clearing his throat.
“I do not want you to be my trophy husband.”
“Just a regular husband, then?” he asks. “That’s alright. If I joined the Yakuza, I could make plenty of money. You could even stay at home if you wanted.”
“Suo you motherfucker you are not joining the fucking Yakuza! And I wouldn't be a stay at home wife!”
“Oh? You wouldn't want to be?”
“No, god! Do you know how much I could make if I scored a hostess gig at a high-end place? Why would I ever turn down that kind of money?!”
“Ah, so you want us to be dual income?”
“Of course I would want us to be dual income!”
“You could get a different job and we could still be dual income.”
“There’s no other job that would pay as well.”
Suo sighs, and your brow twitches. You've always been suspicious about why he disapproves of your choice in career. It’s not in his disposition to judge people, but sometimes you still worry that he's doing it to you.
“What,” you ask, “would you be so against marrying a hostess?”
“No, not at all. But I'd be worried if my spouse worked somewhere unsafe. What if you end up at a Yakuza-owned club?”
You pause, startled at the abruptly earnest tone of his voice. Suddenly you feel guilty.
“Oh… well, I wouldn’t work at a Yakuza-owned club.”
“Hm… then I guess it's fine.” Suo nods, as if arriving at a decision. “We’ll get married, we’ll be dual income, and neither of us will work for the Yakuza.”
“Yes, exactly. We’ll get married, we’ll be dual income, and neither of us—” Your eyes go wide as you realize what you're saying. You feel yourself flushing. “Wait.”
“What? Is there a problem?”
“Suo.”
“Don’t tell me you're going to change your mind now. That would just be mean.”
“I'm being mean?” you ask, flabbergasted.
“Well, yes. You don't think it would hurt if you changed your mind about marrying me? And so soon after agreeing, too.”
You stare at him in disbelief. You have a number of possible retorts that cross your mind, and somehow you pick the least relevant one: “You can't trick someone into marrying you.”
“Then can I trick you into dating me?”
“Suo! I said don't do that!”
“Don’t do what?”
“Joke about that kind of thing!”
“I'm not joking about anything.”
“Yes you are? You don't actually want to date me. Stop saying that you do!”
Suo leans in. He stares at you, his gaze distinctly vulpine. It's very attractive, and also intimidating, and you should be used to it by now, but your heart rate ticks up anyway. You swallow thickly as his thumb glides along your cheek again, your skin scorching beneath his fingertips. You forget to bat his hand away this time.
“You’re so mean,” he repeats, voice lilting, “how come you never believe anything I say?”
He's baiting you. He's obviously baiting you, and you consider for a moment whether you want to bite.
Flirting with Suo is never a good idea—you can never tell whether he means to charm you or make fun of you when you do it. Sometimes it feels like both. Occasionally it feels mean. More often than not, you like to entertain it. But you can't right now. His shirt’s stained with such a bright red that it keeps distracting you, just like the blood he's left all over the washroom sink. Your manager will be furious about the mess, and also about the fact that you're giving first aid to three delinquents while you're on the clock. You think they'd go broke before they could spend enough money here to appease her, were she to discover the four of you. You might even lose your job. Then you wouldn't be able to support yourself anymore, let alone Suo, who cracks jokes as easily about being your trophy husband as he does about being Leonardo DiCaprio.
If he makes one more joke about marrying you, you'll probably throw up and cry.
“You're not being very gentlemanly right now,” you finally point out. He raises a brow.
“No?”
“No. I'd even say you're being a menace, actually. Doing a very bad job of”—you almost laugh as you say this, because you've heard this speech so many times—“engaging with my feelings. Not being supportive at all. Really falling off the staircase to adulthood, you know.”
Suo studies you. Something complicated passes through his eye before he pulls away, his expression now back to normal. It's deceptive how innocent he looks.
“Sorry,” he says. “You’re right. I’ll play nice.”
“No, you won't,” you retort, and Suo smiles at you, not replying. But he does give you a break. You finish cleaning up the cut without incident, although you do get flecks of blood on your evening gown, which you hope won't be too noticeable against the black satin. You bemoan the lost cause of Suo's changshan too—made of Suzhou silk, a gift from your master—and silently make a note to buy him a replacement sometime.
You're in the middle of buttoning up his shirt when the door clicks and swings open. Met face to face with your coworker, you freeze up.
Your stage name leaves her mouth in an angry bark. “What are you doing? I told you you're not supposed to be having sex with customers here, you should be doing that someplace—” She stops, evidently spotting the blood on Suo’s shirt, and then the other two individuals locked up in here with you, one of whom is blushing violently and looks to be on the verge of dying from embarrassment. Beneath your hands, you feel Suo’s body go stiff too.
“Oh,” she says before either of them can comment. “It’s just your delinquent boyfriend and his buddies.” Suo waves at her, and she nods back before squinting at the sink. “Are you going to clean that up?”
“Yes,” you say quickly. “Please don't tell our boss.”
“Have I ever ratted you out?” she asks. “Just get out of here soon. People do have to piss, you know.” Then she stops, looking at Suo with a dubious expression. “And make sure your boyfriend doesn't die.”
You're too tired to correct her on the nature of your relationship. “I've been trying,” you say, and she gives you a sympathetic look before retreating. You hear her laughing with a customer about people fooling around in the washroom, and I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir, and could you please go downstairs while I clean up. You’re so relieved, you nearly fall to your knees. A calloused hand touches your back as you rub your temples.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Suo says quietly—sincerely—and instead of saying no, you're not, you reply, “I know. I’m sorry too.”
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Suo’s always hated your job.
He’s always hated your job, your boyfriends, your apartment, and a lot of other things about your life that Sakura doesn’t have any business prying into. And it's just as well. Sakura also hates your shitty job, and your shitty boyfriends, and considering that you live in the same shitty building as him, he isn't a fan of your rental situation either. Nirei’s too polite to say anything about it, but Sakura can tell that he disapproves as well. It’s not like any of them are living the most comfortable lives either—Sakura has personally been living from shithole to shithole, mostly alone, ever since his parents passed—but your lifestyle does make them all feel poorly.
You're just a very easy person to like. And it's very easy to want nice things for you. So Sakura gets it, how Suo feels about you.
What he doesn't quite get is how Suo acts about you.
One thing he’s learned over the years is that Suo is very good at reading people. Sometimes he understands Sakura better than Sakura understands himself, and he can convince Sakura to do things which he himself didn't think were possible for him to do. He's done the same with Nirei, and about half the other people in their grade, and at least a third of the guys in Bofurin. It’s frankly a terrifying skill. But Suo never uses it with you—not to get you to change jobs, or boyfriends, or even apartments.
At first Sakura thought that you were just immune to Suo’s tactics, but he's recently come to realise that Suo simply gets too emotional about you to know how to convince you of anything. He’s even emotional enough to get kind of petty and a little mean with you, which is something that Sakura has only witnessed from Suo during fights. Really bad fights.
It’s terribly uncomfortable, especially when you’re clearly head over heels for Suo.
Sakura doesn't have any business prying into your personal problems. Though truthfully, he’d be happy to thrash some random assholes for you anyway, if that would fix your heartbreak. (He's already done this to at least one of your exes, and it worked shockingly well.) The problem is, Suo is not a random asshole and Sakura isn't sure that you'd want him thrashed in the first place. But it's just fucking painful watching the two of you act like this around each other, so he ends up pulling Suo aside after you kick them out of the girls’ bar, scowling.
Suo looks at him, surprised. “Sakura? What's the matter?”
He doesn't mince words. “How come you were being such a dick to your friend?”
Nirei goes stiff. “Sakura,” he says in his panicked ‘why are you trying to pick a fight now’ voice, “where is this coming from? I don't think Suo was being rude…” But Sakura can tell, as Nirei’s finishing his own sentence, that he's second-guessing himself.
“No,” Suo replies. “I was being a bit terrible, wasn't I?” There’s no humour in either his words or his face, but the corner of his mouth lifts. He actually looks endeared. “I'm surprised you noticed, Sakura.”
“I mean”—Sakura feels himself going red, embarrassed at just the memory of how you looked at Suo; first so worried, then painfully fond, and then like you were going to burst into tears right there in the washroom and ask him to hold you, as if you were in a horrible getsuku drama—“it was kinda hard not to.”
Suo nods. “I suppose it’s natural to be sensitive to the feelings of someone you like.”
Heat floods his face. “I don't like her!”
“Did I say you did?” Suo’s mouth curls when Sakura can't answer. “Don’t be embarrassed. She's a very easy person to like.”
Sakura tries his hardest to ignore Suo—which should be easy, because Suo lies randomly and pointlessly all the time, whenever he thinks it's funny—and says, “If she's an easy person to like, how come you act like you don't like her at all?”
“Was I acting like that? Or was she acting like it was impossible for someone to like her?” Sakura stops. Suo gives him a long look, then smiles. “You would know how difficult it can be to accept being liked, Sakura. And how long it can take to understand that there are people who want to support you unconditionally.”
Sakura opens his mouth once, twice. A third time. Nirei sighs. The two of them watch as Suo—rather than walking in the direction of the subway—steps over to a vending machine and buys a bottle of oolong tea.
“Are you going to wait for her shift to finish?” Nirei asks.
“Mm, I think so.” Suo glances down at his ankle. “But you should go home, Nire-kun. You can’t fight like that. In case those guys come back here, I mean.” He opens the bottle, takes a sip. “They had bladed weapons. It would be bad if you risked it.”
Nirei glances at the entrance to your bar, worried. “But…”
Sakura understands without Nirei finishing his sentence. The security at your bar is terrible, and plenty of people like to exploit that. It was Nirei who noticed a group men eyeing you before anyone else did, following you all the way from Keisei Street to your place of work. And sure, Suo kicked the shit out of them in the end, did much worse to them than vice versa—but who knows if there aren't more of them.
Suo hates your job. All three of them do.
“It’s okay,” Sakura says. “I'm sure the two of us will be enough.”
“...I'll ask Tsubaki if he's free,” Nirei finally relents. “And I'll text Kiryu and Tsugeura too.”
“Thanks, Nire-kun.”
Suo gets a bottle of ramune after Nirei leaves, passes it to Sakura. Tsubaki comes by later, still in his pole outfit, with several pieces of taiyaki for them to share—I’m always snacky after dancing, he explains—and the three of them loiter in front of your bar until four in the morning. Tsubaki asks questions about you in a tone that has Sakura wanting to crawl into an alleyway just to hide, and Suo deflects masterfully with questions about Tsubaki’s new boyfriend. The guys from earlier don't show up. Maybe the sight of Roppo-Ichiza’s top fighter scares them off.
You're surprised to see them there when you emerge a little later. You give Tsubaki a happy but perplexed look as he hugs you.
“Tsubaki? What are you doing here?”
“Keeping these two company,” he replies. “And I wanted to say hi, of course. You should come by the club sometime, you know! I haven't seen you in forever.”
“Sure! That would be nice, but…” You turn to Sakura and Suo, puzzled. “Why are you guys still here?”
Sakura, on instinct, nearly recounts the whole evening to you—about the men tailing you, about how they got into a fight, about the kind of things they said they'd do once they caught you—but Suo answers first.
“Troubling you again,” is all he says. “It’s fine since your shift is over now, right?”
You give the two of them a long, curious look. For a moment, you look worried, but you're eventually disarmed by Suo’s expression.
“I guess it's fine,” you reply. You sound so happy. Suo’s gaze goes soft, and Sakura has to force himself not to look away. “Let's hurry up and go home.”
You smile at them, and it's the kind of smile that makes it very easy to like you. The kind of smile that makes it natural to want nice things for you. The kind of smile that would make anyone emotional, even if they're normally very controlled. It makes something in Sakura squeeze tightly, all knotted up and painful.
He’s starting to understand why Suo acts the way he does around you.
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END
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this wasn't meant to be a love triangle, my apologies…
this was also meant to be a very short piece (like 500w lol), but I kept thinking about what suo’s backstory might be, and why he was so comfortable in the red light district in the manga, and what these guys might realistically act like in an aged up, romantic context. that all coalesced into this very bizarre fic LOL. I'm not sure how it'll land, but I hope someone out here enjoyed it! I would like to write more about this triangle (+ nirei) but I'm not sure what the level of interest would be, or if it'll even make sense with the manga. I guess we’ll see eventually!
in any case, thank you for reading!! <3
981 notes · View notes
javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months ago
Text
Cramps
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Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.
Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes
A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u
Bitchy. 
You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 
You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 
What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 
 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 
Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 
Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 
So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 
“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 
“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 
“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 
For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 
Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 
You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 
“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 
“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 
Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  
You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 
“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 
At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 
“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 
“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 
“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 
“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 
But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 
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You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 
Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.
Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 
Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 
Your period had come.  
In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 
“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 
It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 
“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 
Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 
“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 
You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 
“Thank you. You’re the best.” 
“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 
“Oh shut up, meanie.” 
“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙
“Love you too. 🤍” 
Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 
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Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 
As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 
“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 
Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 
You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 
“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 
“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 
“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 
“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 
“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 
“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 
“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   
“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.
“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 
As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 
As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 
“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 
“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 
Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 
“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 
“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 
“I think I can make that happen.” 
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About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 
“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 
Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 
“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 
“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 
“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 
“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 
Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 
But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 
“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 
“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 
Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 
With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 
“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 
Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 
“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 
Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 
Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 
“Frankie, holy fuck.” 
“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 
“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 
Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 
“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 
“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 
Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 
Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 
Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 
“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 
“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 
“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 
Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 
“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 
“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 
You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 
“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 
That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 
With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  
“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 
“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 
“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 
“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 
“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”
“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”
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potofsoup · 4 months ago
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Happy July 4th, everyone, and good luck to the UK voters out there!
Wow it's Year 11 of doing these!! Here's the AO3 link to the past 10 years, and here's the tumblr link.
Reminder that this is a long game -- some of the judges making decisions were appointed back in the 80s. Many of the cases that were decided this round were from Trump's term. So it's going to take long-term, consistent voting over a decade to start tipping things in the other direction. (Which I talked about in 2018 re: Trump shenanigans and 2022 re: Dobbs).
A lot has been done by the Biden administration (I'm assuming most folks have seen this post by boreal-sea with their very helpful sources), and much of that will be overturned by Trump, especially if he gets the Senate, and especially now that he would have a blank check for anything "official". So let's make sure that doesn't happen.
And even if Trump does get elected, your decisions down-ballot might effect control of the House or Senate, or might make it easier to vote next time, plus the whole plethora of state and local issues. It's Republican state attorney generals who are challenging climate regulations, for example.
Plus, when you really get down to it, only one of the candidates plans on pardoning himself and all his friends if he wins, and attacking the government if he loses. Maybe that guy shouldn't be the President.
If you're new to voting, remember to check voter registration deadlines! I'm a permanent vote-by-mail voter and it's so nice. :)
Transcript under the readmore
Page 1: Sam and Bucky meet up with Steve for a picnic. Steve: Thought you guys were still in Sudan? Bucky: I’m forcing Sam to take a break.
Sam collapses onto the picnic blanket. Sam: Oof, it just never stops, does it? Steve: Nope.
Bucky hands Sam an orange popsicle. Bucky: Eat and relax for a bit, Sam. Sam: Thanks.
Page 2: Bucky asks Steve: How are things state-side? Steve responds: HORRIBLE. Bucky: I thought you’ve been tentatively hopeful about what Biden has been able to achieve? Steve: I was! Student loans, child care, climate regulations, infrastructure, labor, trans rights … he’s quietly done a lot through regulatory improvements and congress bills. But now all people will talk about is how he’s OLD. And then there’s the Supreme Court’s decisions … Chevron and immunity… Steve puts his head in his hands, while Sam and Bucky look on with some concern.
Page 3: Bucky hands Steve a blue/raspberry popsicle: Steve, take a deep breath, and a popsicle. Sam: Sounds like we missed a lot. What’s going on? How bad is it? Steve: Pretty bad. The Supreme Court has made some decisions that give the Court and the President A LOT of discretionary power. Sam: Yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Steve: Well, the Chevron thing means that judges with life-term appointments can override policies made by government agencies. And now it’ll be harder to hold a President accountable because he will have immunity for any “official” actions.
Page 4: Sam: So if the President tries to, say, overturn a democratic election result, he’ll be allowed to as long as it’s in his job description? Steve: I don’t think threatening state electors is “official” business, but that will be decided by federal judges. Who get their jobs by approval from both the President and the Senate. Bucky: Yeesh. No wonder you’re stressed. Any good news? Steve: Well, thanks the Biden and the razor-thin Senate majority, the newer bills don’t rely on the Chevron deference. Still not great but not catastrophic. Sam, squirting ketchup on his hot dog: So what I’m hearing is that it’s now more important than ever to have a President and a Senate who you can trust to appoint fair judges, pass bills, and not commit crimes.
Page 5: Steve: Plus all of the state level offices, now that more and more deciding power has been thrown back to the states — abortion, LGBTQ rights, voting access… Bucky: Hey, at least this is a big election year so we can actually do something! Steve, with his arms crossed, looking surly: Except that all people want to talk about is how Biden is “too old” and “not doing enough,” as if that is on par with Trump’s desire to dismantle basic rights! As if the candidate who doesn’t embody ALL their ideals is not worth voting for! Bucky interrupts with a smart and a loud “PFFT.”
Page 6: Bucky: Um, Steve. YOU were like that in 1940. Sam, nudging Bucky: “Oh, this I gotta hear. Spill, Barnes.” In sepia, Steve is pacing around their apartment while Bucky is sitting and reading a newspaper. Steve: I can’t believe he’s running for a 3rd term! we need a fresh candidate to vote for! This is hardly a choice at all! AND he refuses to engage in Europe! All of Europe under fascist control and we’re just twiddling our thumbs? He’s letting millions die through his inaction! Bucky: Most people don’t want another war, Steve. If he came out for it, he would lose. Steve, indignant: But Buck, it’s your Polish relative who are in danger! Bucky, closing his newspaper and looking at Steve: Yeah, and between FDR and Willkes, I trust FDR to help if he could.
Page 7: Steve, in sepia, looking away: Should he be encouraged to do more? Maybe I should vote for Browder. The Communists have historically be Anti-Fascist.
Sam interrupts off-screen: Waitaminute! STEVE was going to PROTEST-VOTE? Steve: We were in a Blue State, Sam! Sam: But what about the down ballot races?! Steve: RELAX, I did my due diligence down-ballot. I wanted a senate that’s more progressive than the President.Voted LaGuardia for Mayor, too. Steve hesitates: Then, when I got to the President… I realized that the Best case scenario would be that my vote did nothing, versus if it actually spoiled the election. And when I asked myself who I could trust to work with my Senator… well, FDR had a good record with Labor. (sepia shot of young Steve voting) Bucky interrupts: Hold on, Steve.
Page 8: Bucky, eating a cookie, arching an eyebrow: You didn’t vote for Browder? Why didn’t you tell me? Steve: And have you say “I told you so” for the next century? Bucky: Heh.
Steve, with hand on his chin: What’s weird was that, despite everything, I still felt HORRIBLE when I ticked that box. Sam: Sounds like you built up the meaning of that vote far too much in your head. Logically, we know that a single box can’t represent all of the complexity of a whole system, but the desperately WANT it to. Just look at how people have built up so much around the term “Zionis” that it’s made productive conversations difficult.
Page 9: Sam and Steve speak in the background while Bucky reaches into the cooler and pulls out a box. Steve: Sigh. And that’s something that goes beyond the election. Sam: Which is why we need to vote, AND do other things. Bucky, looking at Steve and Sam: Like how Steve works to push organizations on the local level? Or like all the work you do as Captain America? Sam: Exactly. Vote AND.
Sam looks at Bucky fondly: Like how you vote AND make me and Steve take breaks. Bucky, looking stern because he can’t handle compliments: Shush, Sam.
Bucky holds up a cake that has the number “107” on it: It’s time for cake. Happy Birthday, Steve.
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luveline · 3 months ago
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Same hotch sister reader anon here Jade!
I think I have sent this one before like recently only, idk whether you have seen it or not so I will request again
The reader gets injured (I'm a sucker for injury troop) and Aaron and Spencer worry and Spencer also has to lift the reader. Please write if it's not too much 🥺
Aaron tells you two or three times not to do it. “Just wait,” he says, standing behind you with his hands hovering over your back. “Seriously, I’ll ask Morgan.” 
“How can you host the party without glasses?” 
“I can assure you my guests aren’t going to miss a glass of wine for the first ten minutes. Don’t make me grab you.” 
“I can reach!” 
“I can reach, too, it’s not about height, it’s about–” He gasp loudly as your stool wobbles. “Sweetheart, get down. I’m not kidding.” 
You grab the stem of the last glass and pass it down to him. “Stop worrying! I told you I could do it and I did.” 
And you’re right, you passed him each of his glasses without smashing any, as promised. You are not expecting the top of the stool to feel so slippery as you try to get down, nor are you expecting to lean forward and pop your face on the cabinet glass. You whack your chin, lose your footing, and slam down on knee before Aaron can catch you. 
There’s a silence. Two hands on your shoulders. “Honey…” 
“Just say it,” you groan.
“Well, I told you so.” 
The doorbell rings. “Ah, fuck,” you say, curling into yourself as everything throbs. 
“It’s okay, come here.”
“Go get the door.” 
“No, they can wait, just let me help you up.” 
“If you love me, you’ll leave me to die here.” 
The doorbell rings again. “Aaron!” Dave calls from the other side. “Shall we let ourselves in?” 
“It’s locked,” Aaron says to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You wave him away. Honestly, you’re not okay, having fallen hard enough to knock the wind from yourself and hurt your knees and chin. But you’re happier to recover by yourself before his friends get here and spot you all crumpled. 
The problem arises when you can’t get your knee to listen to you. It tingles painfully. It did take all your weight as you fell, which likely stopped you from breaking your arms, but wasn’t kind to your joint, it seems. You push yourself onto your butt and sit there, unsatisfied, and, embarrassingly, waiting to be rescued. 
Aaron’s kind, thankfully. He takes Dave to the living room, and sends the second arrival your way. 
“You okay?” Spencer asks, frowning at your strange position on the floor. 
You pout at him. “Spencer, I’ve fallen and my knee won’t work.” 
“You fell?” 
Any nonchalance falls away. Spencer scrambles onto his knees beside you to look you over, curls falling from behind his ear into his eyes as he encourages you back. “You fell?” he asks again, confused. 
“Off the stool.” 
“Off the– What were you doing?” 
“Just grabbing the glasses for tonight!”
“Morgan could’ve done that.” 
“Can you please help me up?” you ask, very much wanting to move on. 
Spencer is a slight man. Not without muscle, but also no weightlifter. To his credit, he doesn’t make helping you seem above his abilities as he wraps an arm behind you and tucks the other under your legs. He lifts you enough to get his hand at the small of your back, and you use your now one good leg to stand. 
Spencer manhandles you a little, which is new. Hosts you to the couch, and lets you down gently. He does need a big breath when he’s done, but besides that, he’s like a Prince Charming having rescued you from your own demise. “Okay?” he asks, both hands at your waist. 
“It hurt bad.” 
“Can I see it?” 
By picking you up, he has earned the right to get you undressed, and you tell him so, his cheeks turning pinky-red as he rolls up your jeans. 
“Swollen,” he says. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You grimace. “I’m so embarrassed I don’t really know what to say. Do you think we can postpone the party?”
Spencer smiles at you, the sort of smile you can only give somebody when you’ve seen almost every part of them, and found yourself still in love by the end of it. He smiles at you like you’re made of pure gold. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m gonna nurse you back to health.” 
“Really?” 
“Of course I am. I’m gonna fix it, but first I was thinking I could kiss your chin better? You have a dark spot coming.” 
You touch it, tender, surprised, “I do?” 
Spencer leans up to peck your chin, just shy of the coming bruise. “You do. I’ll get you some ice.” 
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bpsmuts · 5 months ago
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Day in the Office - Jennie and Rose
Jennie x Rose x Male Reader
Words: 1.697
Summary: You were in the recording studio with your two best friends Jennie and Rose. Bored, Jennie suggests you three play a game of "Never have I ever".
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Jennie, Rose, Y/N
"Didn't you say, you wanted to be productive today Jen?" You ask your friend, who had just suggested to play Never have I ever.
Jennie sits over on the couch, with her feet up on the table "Well yeah, but were all have writer's block right now" she responds "And come on, we don't get to spend THAT much time together, plus we've already gotten good progress today" she pouts
"I wouldn't mind playing for a bit, as long as we continue with out actual work later" Rose chimes in from the desk. "You're not scared, are you Y/N?" the kiwi girl mocks you a little.
"What? No! I'm not scared, I just thought you two wanted to be productive, but fuck it, lets play then!" You challenge them as you get up from the chair next to rose and sit down next to Jennie "Who's starting?" You ask into the room
"I'll start" Jennie decides "Rosie, get over here" she orders Rose, who rolls over to the table. All of you put your hand up and Jennie begins the game.
"Never have I everrrr" Jennie thinks for a moment "Uhhh.. gotten a speeding ticket" You and Rose both put a finger down "You have never gotten a speeding ticket Jen?" Rose asks surprised "Of course she hasn't, she is being driven everywhere" You add, taking a shot at Jennie.
"I have driven before..." Jennie tries to defend herself "Okay, my turn" Rose continues "Never have I ever kissed a stranger" to which Jennie and yourself put down a finger "Okay, you two are teaming up on me" You exclaim
"How are we teaming up on you?" Jennie asks while laughing and looking over to Rose "You just are" You retort "Probably cause I wanted to work instead of goof around" I fake your anger "We are not goofing around, were taking a break. Just play your turn" Jennie responds
"Okay. Never have I ever sucked a dick" You grin as both girls put down a finger in shock "Okay, that's unfair" Rosie yells "What?! I'm just evening out the playing field here" you respond to her.
"Okay, next one counts double?" Jennie suggests to the group "Bring it Miss Kim" Rose replies "Never have I ever had sex" Jennie surprised the group as everyone puts down a finger "Now everyone is down to the last one" she smirks
"What happens to the loser?" Rose asks Jennie "Hmmm" she thinks for a bit "How about, the loser has to take their shirt off?" Jennie suggests into the room "Okay Jennie, I don't know if this is very professional" You try and veto the decision but get interrupted by Rose "Done!"
"Okay wait wait wait" You halt the game "This is totally unfair, since its Rose's turn now" You try your hardest to get the rule changed, with no luck "But Jennie could also lose Y/N" Rose remarks "I mean we can change it, if you want to chicken out Y/N" Jennie offers
"No No. Lets do it this way" You accept giving Rose the look to continue the game "Okay. Let me think here" Rose takes a thinker pose, as if she is solving a complex math problem "Okay, Never have I ever had sex with a woman" the kiwi girl grins widely, knowing you lost
You accept defeat and put down your last finger before realizing you were the only person to take one down "Now wait a minute, are you telling me both of you haven't done it with a girl?" You ask visibly confused "Not even with each other like once?" You add
"Ewww" both girls go in unison "Get your head out of the gutter Y/N" Jennie responds "Yeah we have barely even seen each other naked" Rose adds to Jennie's comment "He is probably just upset that he lost" Jennie chuckles to Rose
Still not believe them, you take your punishment as a man and take off your shirt, revealing a muscular physique with a six pack coming through quite visibly. As the room falls silent you see the two girls oogling at your upper body, with Jennie being able to catch herself quite fast.
"Its rude to stare Rosie" You mock Rose, who is still staring at your six pack "Let her be. Six Packs are her thing" Jennie tells you from the side "JENNIE" Rose retorts in embarrassment
"Do you want to touch it?" You offer Rose, who's embarrassment you find cute "Can I actually?" she replies, thinking you are messing with her "If its your thing" You chuckle. Rose gives you a look before getting off her chair and kneeling in front of you, carefully moving her fingers across your six pack
After a bit she looks up at you and quietly asks "C-Can I lick it?" with a big smile on her face "Umm.. I mean yeah, but you have to take your shirt off then too" You negotiate with the sweet kiwi girl
"I'll do you one better then" Rose giggles as she takes off her shirt, revealing her small breasts "Too small for a bra" She giggles as she shows off her chest "Oh wow Rosie, they look amazing" You respond before slowly moving a hand towards her chest, cupping a breast carefully
"Thanks" she responds before slowly licking over your six pack, moving further down towards your crotch. Right as she goes to unbuckle your belt Jennie interrupts the moment "Umm guys... Im still here"
Both you and Rose look over to Jennie, who is just sitting there. Your hand still cupping one of Rosie's breasts and her hand in the middle of unbuckling your belt, Jennie asks "Put a finger down, if you're about to have a threesome?"
Both you and Rose put up your hands before taking one finger down, chuckling. Jennie then moves closer to you and the two of you kiss, as Rose unbuckles your belt. You move your hips upward so Rose can pull down your pants. "Ooohh didn't know you were packing like this Y/N" Rose exclaims in awe as she sees your dick for the first time
"Save some for me Rosie" Jennie tells her as she also removes her shirt, showing off a white lacy bra. As Rose starts to slowly take in your length, your hand wanders from her breasts to Jennie's, cupping both of them as you two kiss.
You cant help but moan, as Rose continues to suck your dick. "Your mouth feels so good Rosie" you encourage the cute girl. Meanwhile Jennie takes off the rest of her clothes, not just revealing her boobs, but also that she wasn't wearing panties.
"What is it with you two and only wearing half a set of underwear" You chuckle. "Rosie doesn't need a bra and well.. I'm just a slut" Jennie answers, pressing her lips onto yours once again.
After a while Jennie breaks the kiss "Okay, my turn" she says to Rose, climbing down from the sofa as Rosie makes way between your legs. "Can I sit on your face Y/N?" Rose asks cutely before being interrupted by Jennie "I have a way better idea" she exclaims
"Y/N! Lay down on the sofa. Then Rosie can ride your face, while I ride you" Jennie suggests "And we can make out" Rose adds, while all three of you get in position.
As Rose climbs onto your face, burying it in her vagina, you can feel Jennie slowly slide down on your dick. You can feel the depth of Jennie's pussy as you grab Rose's ass to make sure the cute kiwi girl doesn't actually suffocate you.
Shortly after, the room is filled with smacking from the lips of Jennie and Rose, as they made out and the smacking of Jennie's pussy lips on your crotch as well as muffled moans from all three of you.
"Yes Y/N, just like that" Rose moans as she breaks her kiss with Jennie before going on to suck her nipples. "You feel so good inside me Y/N" Jennie compliments your dick.
"I'm close, can we switch Jen?" Rose asks in between heavy moans "Just one second baby" Jennie replies as she can feel herself reaching her climax. "JENNIEEE" Rose moans cutely, trying her best to hold her orgasm
Not shortly after that, you can feel Jennie's walls tighten as the Korean moans loudly, before getting off your dick, making space for Chaeyoung. Getting up from your face, you can finally take deep breaths again.
You see Jennie sitting on the floor next to you "That was amazing Y/N" she compliments as you Rose lowers herself onto your dick. You can feel the tight walls of Rose, as she starts to bounce up and down.
Jennie moves over to suck on Rose's nipples, earning even louder moans from her "Oh my god I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum Y/N!" Rose moans loudly as she also reaches climax.
After she came, Rose also got off and kneeled on the floor next to Jennie. With both girls looking at you, you knew exactly what they wanted. You stood up and positioned yourself in front of them, starting to stroke your dick.
Jennie and Rose look up at you "Cum on us Y/N, Cum on our pretty faces" Jennie encourages you "Please give us all of your cum Y/N" Rose joins in.
You moan as you start to shoot rope after rope on their faces, trying to give both of them an equal amount of your hot cum. After you're done, you look down to two satisfied girls covered in your cum.
"Now for the best part" Rose says, before turning to Jennie and planting some kisses on her mouth. You sit down and watch the girls make out for a bit. "This was so much fun" You exclaim after gathering your breath.
"Definitely" Jennie replies, as she swipes your cum from her cheek into her mouth and swallows it. "Im gonna get us something to clean ourselves up with" Rose says, getting up and walking out of the room.
Author's Note: If you've made it this far, thank you <3
If you want to leave feedback, please either comment or DM me!
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listentoace · 25 days ago
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Oh honey, just look at yourself. You gained another pound, didn't you? I thought you said you were going to slow things down. You just wanted to have a little fun, enjoy that bit of pudge, and be done with it. But that was 15 pounds ago, am I right? You said you were going to stop, over and over again, but the weight just keeps piling on. You don't even give off the impression that you're even trying to slow things down. I can see you snacking all day long, enjoy some junk food here and there, and I don't know when I've last seen you drink water instead of soda. You go for seconds more and more often, sometimes even thirds, if you really like the food, and don't think I don't notice you unbuttoning those pants before dessert comes around.
Your hips are softening up, your muffin top is growing into a real belly, and even your arms are starting to strain against your sleeves. You can't tell me you don't notice how all your clothes feel tighter. In fact, when you're wearing something that used to be a bit tighter already, where your fat just flows out right now, you look hideous. Look... You know just as well what you said. Gain a bit, have some fun, lose the weight again. So far, you've only managed to do two of those things. But darling, it's fine. If you want to be a little fatty, just keep eating.
I like how your body is changing. Your boobs are getting bigger, and your ass is getting really wide and juicy. And the way your belly rubs up against me when we are in bed is both cute and really hot. You may also have noticed how I kept stocking up on your favorite snacks, knowing you'd find and eat them all. And, if I'm being completely honest, you look hotter than ever. You're turning into such a fat mess, such a beautiful, fattened piggy, that it would be a shame to stop now. I know you love this. The food, the indulgence, the fat growing on your body. Just embrace it and admit to yourself that you won't be stopping anytime soon. It's not like you'd want that anyways, right? You chose this. You know you want more ~
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