#Could be fun to do a bigger piece on it maybe

[pyroweasel]

The Cardinal

(CW: Animal Death)

This has nothing to do with any OC's or anything. A convo at work just sort of inspired me.

A man stands in his kitchen - and with his new daughter cradled safely in his arms, he watches the bird feeder in their yard.

It's a busy day. Sparrows dart in and out, pausing only long enough to grab a few beakfuls of seeds before flitting away again. A grosbeak battles for dominance, easily chasing off a red-winged blackbird that is more talk than action. Robins pick at the ground below, content to fill themselves on the fallen meals of their companions and the occasional insect. Every now and then a hummingbird buzzes by - but it moves on, finding the specialized feeder a few windows over.

A new voice joins the chorus of the rest, and from a nearby tree a cardinal swoops down. It lands on top of the hook that holds the feeder, and without much more than its presence it chases away nearly all of the smaller birds. As soon as they've fled, the female flies in - obvious by the fuller reds and golds in her feathers.

But the man has eyes only for the male - for the bright crimson plumage and the proud tuft resting on his head.

"There Patty, you see?" He whispers to his daughter. She watches quietly, and he can't be sure she's really looking at the bird but he knows she must at least see all the movement. He doesn't dare speak louder, or even move enough to point.

"That's your grandfather," he continues, just as quietly, "you didn't get to meet him while he was alive - but he's come to watch over you anyway. So whenever you find a cardinal visiting you, just know that it's your grandpa - come to make sure you're okay."

Patty gurgles, making soft popping sounds with her mouth - and the man smiles, telling himself that she understands. There's a small commotion among the birds, then, and the cardinals both fly away - but the man still feels satisfied. Happy. Protected. And nuzzling his daughter a little closer, he turns from the window and gets to work on her next bottle.

The cardinal flies away. He dances through the air, slips up and down across streams that only birds really understand. His mate trails after him, for a time - but eventually goes her own way. They'll meet up again, of course, once they both return home.

Except that's the moment when a bug enters his field of vision. A tiny heart races, his wings react by instinct, and the small, brilliant bird chases after his next meal.

The hope of a meal dulls his sense of self-preservation - and a little bird, spirit or not, doesn't understand the world of man. He only understands the winds. The hunt. The thrill as the world races past him.

And the pain. Violent and sudden and, thankfully, brief.

The car travels on - it's occupants failing to notice the life that has been dashed against the grill.

Tomorrow, the man will stand at the window. There will be a new cardinal - and he will point with a smile and say -

"See? There he is again."

[maximwtf]

as a junho lover i am BEGGING you to please release the fic you had 😭😭😭😭

Hwang Jun-Ho x detective! Reader

Words: 3970

google docs pages: 6

Warnings: Platonic relationship mostly, but squint and it’s not. Squid Game season 1 spoilers, violence, guns, choking, character death but not major. 

Opening: You and Jun-ho are colleagues and your shift tonight would only consist of being on patrol. This leads to a lot of talking as per usual, before you spot something suspicious.

AN// G/N reader. A lot of you wanted me to post this ancient piece of media back up, so your wish is my command. This was actually fun for me to read as well. This was last posted in 2021 and soon after deleted, no memory of why I did that :”D. But I hope yall will still enjoy this s1 inspired fic ! And before anyone asks, I won't write a pt 2 for this, since I don't remember where I was taking this story initially;(

“I know you miss him.”

You were walking behind Jun-ho towards his car. Tonight's shift would be just you and him on patrol. There was nothing surprising with that, since he was your partner and you had gotten to know him pretty well over the years. But the problem was that you hadn’t slept well last night, and you had forgotten to bring your lunch while in a hurry this morning. So this meant that you'd either have to be without food the whole night or beg for Jun-ho to stop for a moment before the stores closed.

You watched how Jun-ho unlocked the doors of the car. The front lights lit up for a second, Indicating the doors had opened. He stepped into the driver's seat and sat down. You soon followed and sat down on the seat next to him. Nothing out of the ordinary, another normal shift. 

The car was almost fully white, with two stripes going on both of the sides. The smaller stripe was yellow and on top of that was a larger stripe in blue. Under the stripes was text that said ‘Police’. On the roof of the car, there were the usual police red and blue lights but also a bigger light for searching in the dark. The seats were fully black, like most of the car was on the inside.

Jun-ho started the car, and slowly drove away from the police office. The sun had gone down a little bit ago, and slowly but surely the street lights had turned on. It had rained earlier that day, so the streets were a little wet still. The car had no lights on inside, only the lights on the control board were illuminating a soft light against whatever it managed to touch. The street lamps passing by allowing some more light to come in every once in a while. This was exactly what you were used to, since the two of you had been on night patrol a lot recently.

You sat in silence as Jun-ho drove through the familiar streets. Watching the yellowish lights as they passed you, one by one. Your gaze wandered off to Jun-ho. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling, since he was only looking at the road with no defined expression on his face. He had told you on your last shift that he hadn’t seen his brother in a while, but you weren’t sure if he had been found already or not. Not sure if it was appropriate to ask about it again, seeing as it might have been a sensitive topic. But if Jun-ho was feeling out of it, you weren’t sure if he should be working a night shift.

“Hey, could we stop by a store? I forgot my ‘lunch’, and I don't want to pull an all-nighter without anything to eat.” You requested with a hint of embarrassment in your voice. But it was either this or having to suffer through the night with no food. Either way, this was maybe the best way to start a conversation, to see how  your partner was doing. Jun-ho turned his gaze at you for a little bit before he replied. “Sure, just make it quick.” He said with a nod. 

Soon the car pulled up near a store and you left to grab something to eat. Knowing that you didn't have a lot of time, you just took the nearest thing that happened to be some sort of a salad. You grabbed the nearest energy drink just to be sure the night would pass smoothly, and went to pay. As you were walking back to the car, you saw Jun-ho writing something on his phone. Not thinking much of it, and seating yourself back down next to him. “Sorry for this. I’ll try to wake up earlier next time.” You apologized, while placing the food on the back seat. “It’s okay. You didn’t waste much time.” He hummed as a reply, and started the car again. The small walkie talkie that he had connected to his belt was making noise. The other officers that were on the same shift seemed to be actively talking right now. This didn’t worry you yet, since they would have contacted you two if something was going on nearby.

After a while of going around the part of the town you were supposed to patro, you reached back to get the energy drink. Staying up late last night had started to turn against you, starting to feel awfully worn out by now. Your eyes were looking at the almost empty streets, as you lifted the can up to your lips. 

Your gaze detected movement on the road, and soon seeing a dog crossing the street. Jun-ho didn’t seem to be bothered by it, continuing on. Panicking for a moment when the realisation hit you that he must have not seen the damn thing. You quickly put the can on the cup holder. “Stop, there’s a dog!” You exclaimed to Jun-ho. His eyes widened and he pressed down the brakes. The car stopped just in time, and the dog crossed the road quickly, with its tail in between its legs. Your body almost hit the dashboard, but thankfully your seat belt held you in place. You were both staring at the road with widened eyes. All you could hear was heavy breathing that was coming from the both of you. 

You slowly leaned back and rested your body on the seat. “Pull the car on the side of the road.” You demanded quietly, voice firm. Jun-ho did as you requested, and parked the car on the side. “How did you not see the dog?” You asked in a much calmer voice, body seemingly still in some form of shock. You didn’t want to be mean to him, since it could have just been a mistake on his part. “I was in my thoughts. I’m sorry for putting you in danger.” Jun-ho sighed, with his gaze avoiding you. “Now, you look at me and tell me what is going on. You seem totally out of it?” You huffed and tilted your head in confusion. It took him a while, but he turned to look at you again. “And now the second part. Are you doing okay?” You asked the question in a different way so he couldn’t avoid the topic. “I’m doing just fine. I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I promise.” Jun-ho tried to convince you.

He turned away to start the car again, but you had other plans. “Have they found your brother yet?” You asked with a more monotone voice. Trying to dig a little deeper this time. Straight after saying this, Jun-ho stopped completely for a brief moment. “He’s…still missing.” The man admitted quietly while looking at the windshield. He leaned back on the seat like you had done and closed his eyes. You furrowed your brows in worry. Before you were able to reply, he continued. “I have reported him as missing already, but they can’t seem to find him. I have some evidence of..something but nothing that would actually help.” He pressed his palms against the steering wheel firmly, eyes opening again.

You looked at him with a freshly formed frown on your face. “What's the evidence you’ve found so far?” You asked, interested in the topic because you wanted to help him. “A card with a circle, triangle and a square on it. My brother had one in his room and I recently saw another man have a similar card. They’re related but I don’t know how.” Jun-ho replied, and turned his gaze back to you with sorrow behind his eyes. “Well, have you talked to the man yet? Maybe he knows what’s going on?” You tilted your head. “I tried to, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to tell me anything..” The man sighed again, but this time with more frustration. “I know you miss him, but you can’t give up. Did you see what was written on the card?” You patted his shoulder, an attempt to wipe the saddened look off of his face. “There was only a number on the back, nothing more.” He explained, not much to go off of. “We need a little more evidence to really start looking into this, but I can try to help you. I’m sure we can find him.”  You tried to smile a little and offered a hug to him. Jun-ho looked at you for a moment and accepted the offer.

After you had pulled back from the hug, the walkie talkie started to make noise again. Jun-ho answered it quickly. The person talking to Jun-ho told him to switch cars to a civil one, because they had spotted something going on near you two. Jun-ho ended the call, and started the car again. “Seems like we’ve got a case on our hands.” He hummed, and pulled the car back on the road. Like nothing had happened.

At this hour it was fully dark. Only the street lights, signs and the lights from the car broke veil the darkness. There were only a few people walking on the streets, most likely coming from a bar. 

Before you knew it, you had arrived all the way back to the police office. You could barely see the whole building in the dark, the city having not invested a whole lot on the building. Jun-ho took the keys from the car and stepped out. You took your items and followed him, hurrying to the side of the car he was standing by. He led you to a fully black car, around the corner from the office. “Let’s be quick.” He stated quietly and opened the door to the passenger seat. You smiled at him kindly, and stepped in. He soon sat down on the driver's side and pulled the car onto the road. “Where are we going?” You asked while putting on your seat belt. “Here.” Jun-ho said as he was typing the location on the navigator. You didn’t recognize the street’s name, but you decided to not ask where it was located. You’d see soon enough. “Did they tell you what was going on there?” You asked for more information, hoping that Jun-ho didn’t mind. “Someone who we have been looking for has been reported to be in that area. We were called to check if he’s still there.” Jun-ho quickly explained while driving faster. You two didn’t have time to lose, since the man could get away any moment. 

The navigator kept giving directions, and Jun-ho was following them. You seemed to be getting closer by the second. But suddenly Jun-ho slowed down the whole car. “What are you doing?” You questioned your partner. But what you didn’t know was that he had seen something far more important to him than the person you two had been called to look for. “That’s him. That’s the man that had the same card as my brother.” Jun-ho said quietly before he started to back up the car. He backed in the shadows and turned off the lights from the car. “I might get fired for this, but I'll make sure that you’ll be fine.” The man murmured, as his eyes were following Gi-hun get picked up by a big van. “Wait- Are you trying to tell me that you’ll disobey the request to find the man the office has been looking for just to follow him? What if we end up in danger? There’s no backup.” Your heart beat got faster the more you thought about this. This didn’t seem like the worst case scenario was going to be fired, but something way worse. “This might be my only chance to get to know where my brother is. I’m not letting this go.” He replied with confidence in his voice.

As much as you appreciated and trusted this man, you weren’t sure if you should tell him no. And even if you did, would he even listen at this point. Before you had time to say anything against his plan, the van started to drive away. Jun-ho started to slowly shadow it. He had turned off all the lights from the car, and he wasn’t using the headlights either. You had never been in a situation like this, but there was no getting out of this now.

“Do you have a phone?” Jun-ho asked with a more serious tone. “Y-yes, why?” You asked but still showed him your phone. It was almost fully charged, only a few percents missing. “Good. Just in case we get separated.” He nodded and kept following the van. “So are you saying we might? We’re not getting out of this car are we?” You asked in a panicked voice. “You don’t have to. But I want to know what’s going on. They’re clearly going somewhere and my brother has to be somewhere with them.” Jun-ho spoke, attention clearly keen on the van. 

Soon the van stopped. The navigator showed that you were close to a port. Suddenly you were able to see multiple of the same kind of van going the same way. They all turned and started to drive towards a cargo ship. There was a lot of space for all the vans and some people with red clothing showing where the vans should be parked. Seemingly a well orchestrated operation, whatever this was.

Jun-ho stopped the car and parked it so that it wouldn’t be too easy to see. “Now. You stay here, and I’ll call you in a little bit once I have found out what's going on here.” Jun-ho started to undo his seat belt and get out. “Wait- We don’t even know who these people are, and we don’t have any backup. What if they come and ask what I’m doing here?” You started to get restless. “Just..” Jun-ho had to think about this for a moment. “Tell them you’re waiting for your boyfriend.” He finally said and closed the door. Your eyes widened for a moment but before you could form any words, he was gone. 

There were more lights near the port, so it was easy to see all the grey vans enter the ship. There were huge yellow towers built to hover on top of the bridge that led to the ship that had multiple bright lights showing the way to the drivers of the vans. There didn’t seem to be anyone else but more of the people with the red suits. The situation unfolding before your eyes, seemingly sketchier by the minute.

It was hard to see, but you could make out where Jun-ho was standing. He took out his phone and started to type something. You started to look even more worried. Now wasn’t the best time to start looking at your phone. The worry caused your hand to start wandering closer to the door handle. Your eyes were still focused on him, and you saw when he switched the phone to a gun. Only hoping it was loaded full, but it wasn’t safe anyway to go on a mission like this with only one gun anyway.

As your hand started to open the door, Jun-ho ran from the place he was hiding in. From what you could see he had hidden behind one of the vans. “Damn it..” You cussed under your breath and got out of the car. After making sure that there was no one around, you ran towards another van, and copied what he did. You got on your back and quickly got under the van. Quickly finding something to hold on to and lift your body up from the ground.

Soon after doing this the vans started to all move in the cargo ship. There was some talking  you could hear, and after that the ship left the port. You had no idea where the two of you were going, but you had to follow your partner. You would never forgive yourself if he never came back from this mission that no one even had an idea you two were on. Knowing no one would believe you if you told them Jun-ho had disappeared just like his brother.

The vans you had gotten under were neatly parked next to each other, near the back of the ship. You saw him shift and then get up, still staying behind the van. You took a quiet deep breath and followed his lead. “Hey.” You whispered quietly, so that no one would hear you. With a quick movement he was pointing his gun at you, before he realised who it was. “What are you doing?! I told you to stay in the car?” He whispered back with tension in his voice. “And I’d go to the office alone, to explain to the boss where you had disappeared? As if they’d believe me.” You murmured back. He then quickly switched to your side. “Do you have your gun?” He whispered close to your ear. You shivered slightly at this, placing your hand over the firearm. “I do, it’s full,”  you whispered back. He only nodded at you and went to peek over the edge of the van. While he was doing that someone started to talk through a microphone. “Check the players,” echoed through the ship. With this the side doors of the vans opened by themselves. 

“Get in.” Jun-ho whispered quickly before he stepped in one of the vans. Without another thought you stepped in the van that Jun-ho had been under, ready to follow his lead. Knowing by now how sensitive this situation was. One wrong move, and you’d truly see what these men dressed in red were truly up to.

Your eyes scanned the people sitting in the van. You couldn’t see too well, no lights on in the vans. But no matter how well you looked, you couldn’t see anyone that even slightly looked like Jun-ho’s brother. Before you knew it, you heard the drivers of the cars step out. Your eyes widened. The only thing you could think of was to pretend to be one of the people in the van. 

You sat down on one of the seats at the back, and pretended to sleep. You were able to open one of your eyes slightly, trying to stay up to date on what was happening. You saw a masked person with a full red suit and a black mask with a white circle on it. They were scanning the other people in the van by checking something from behind their ears. You had no idea what Jun-ho was going to do, but as the suited person started to come closer to you. Knowing you didn’t have whatever the others had gotten placed behind their ears, you prepared to attack the suited man. 

 They tested one of your ears and then turned your head to test your other ear. Not being able to find the chip they were looking for. You opened your eyes and quickly attacked them. You hit the mask so that the person fell backwards, buying yourself some time. While they were trying to get up, you moved behind them. The person tried to stab you with a black knife, but you dodged it. You took a hold of their wrist and repeatedly hit it against the seats of the van, until they let go of the knife.  With that you hit their head with your knee and began to choke them. Trying to make as little noise as possible as to not alert any of their companions.

The van moved a little as the person struggled until they started to go limp. You let go of the pink suited person, and took a deep breath. Your heart beat was going crazy at this point, and your hands were shaking. Not once during your time as a detective had you had to fight like this for your life. The idea of you two being alone on this mission, and not even knowing if Jun-ho was alive scared you. 

You knew that you didn’t have a lot of time, so you began to strip the pink suit off the person. It was better to hide in plain sight, especially if they were all dressed the same. You took off the mask as well and dressed up. You had no clue what the job of this person was, other than checking the players and driving the van, but maybe you’d be able to just follow the others. After getting the suit on, you took your tag that showed who you were off, and placed it in the pocket of the person that was now wearing your clothes. 

After that you lifted up the body of the person, attempting to drag them outside the van. Not being used to doing something like this made it hard to lift up a whole body alone. While struggling you wobbled to the edge of the ship, and dropped the body in water. After this you turned around to see where you were supposed to go, you saw another pink suited person. They heard you and turned around. You froze up, not really having a plan to go off of. You felt a tap on your shoulder. “I saw what you did.” A man’s voice said. You could tell it was Jun-ho’s, since it was more muffled due to the mask. But you took the gamble. “You did the same,” You mumbled back. The other masked person made no move to harm you, confirming you’d been correct.

“Hey, you two!” You both turned to look at who was talking to you. There was a person in a pink suit, but this one had a triangle on the mask and a gun. Behind them there was another pink suited person. Only, they had a square on their mask and no gun in hand. You were too stressed out to say anything, and you assumed Jun-ho could sense this since he started to talk. “This is...They were feeling sea sick.” Jun-ho said to the triangle. They didn’t reply, but the square stepped forward, pointing their gun down. 

Their behaviour made you wonder if the symbols on their masks had something to do with their ranking system. Attempting to figure it out while Jun-ho was conversing with them. Square, then triangle, and that left the circle. And if it was the last one it meant that it was the lowest position. “Did you forget the rules?” A man’s voice said from behind the square mask. “You do not speak without your supervisor’s approval.” They continued. You were trying to make your breathing as calm as possible, so that the square wouldn’t notice anything. “Go wait in the cabin,” the square ordered. He gave you and Jun-ho a stare before walking away, taking the triangle with him. 

After they had left you put your hand on your chest to take a breather. You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into, and you couldn’t even blame Jun-ho. You had killed a random man a minute ago and after that you were pointed a gun at, and it was most likely only going to get worse from here.

“Are you doing alright?” Jun-ho’s voice asked, as he kneeled down a little, and pulled your upper body back up by your shoulder. “We have to get to these ‘cabins’, just follow me. Please?” Jun-ho kept talking to you. Giving you a moment to recollect yourself after the encounter. “I’ll recover, I just need to rest for a moment…” You exhaled while looking at your shaky hands. With that you nodded and Jun-ho started to walk up the stairs, where the other circles had gone as well.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi!! I love your work so much!!❤️❤️

Can I order pepperoni pizza, chunky treat bars, pumpkin sangria and white claw with Carlos Sainz from the fall/halloween bakery special??

Thank you and I hope it’s not too much to ask🥹

halloween menu - bakery menu

the halloween/fall menu is open until nov 2nd! fics will be updated daily! these prompts are special for the halloween season so get those orders in!! thank you so much for the submissions and i hope ya'll love what comes next! and thank you to @gguk-n for submitting this order! i hope you enjoy it!! <3

pepperoni pizza: "i wonder if that mascara will run when i'm finished with you." + chunky treat bars: "i'm getting you pregnant." + pumpkin sangria: pregnancy + white claw: slutty costumes served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, slutty costumes, pregnancy & kids, dirty talk, flatiron position, collars/chokers, large chested!reader, marriage, fun sex

maybe it was the slight language barrier, but it had never affected any other parts of your lives. so he couldn't blame it on that. when you told him what you were going for halloween, he had something totally in different in mind.

he was expected a funnier costume. you were a funny woman, you always made him laugh. that was part of your charm to him! so, when you said the word cow in relation to your halloween costume, he wasn't expecting what you walked out of the bedroom in.

whoever said it was a costume was a liar. it was a cow print bra and matching shorts (very short shorts, mind you), a headband with cow styled ears, clip on tail and a collar with a bell on it.

"my love." he said as he stepped closer, taking in every inch of you. he could feel the tightness in his jeans, "you said you were going as a cow? did i not hear you?"

you looked at the bra you wore then back to him. the bra was a push up and made your large chest look even bigger. that didn't help the situation in carlos' jeans worse. he loved you to pieces, and he was happy you were confident in your body.

"i am a cow."

he raised his eyebrows at you, "i haven't been to a farm in a while, but i don't remember cows looking like this." he took you by the waist and chuckled.

you held onto the front of his shirt, "do i look bad?"

carlos replied, "no, no. no way." he licked his lips. he then reached for your face and rubbed his thumb under your eye, "i wonder if that mascara will run when i'm finished with you."

"what about the party?"

carlos shrugged, "i think they'll survive without us." he eyed your breasts, "we can eat candy and make love tonight instead." he pressed a hot kiss against your lips. you moaned against it and wrapped your arms around your lover.

both hands reached to the shorts and groped your ass. his hands dug into the soft round flesh of your ass. the fabric felt nice under his hands, but he wanted what was in your shorts.

"fuck, carlos."

he pulled away and took you by the wrist to bring you to your shared bedroom. he sat on the bed and got his cock out of his jeans. he leaned back a little and stroked his cock as he admired you. he swallowed, "do a little turn before i tear it off of you."

you blushed, "i didn't know this would turn you on this much! i thought i was just being... cheeky."

he leaned forward a little, "well you're cheeky in another way." then licked his lips as you did a turn. your body on display for him and it riled him up. he didn't feel practically possessive over your dressed like this, but he did feel a rush of pleasure through him at how beautiful you looked.

when you did your spin, the bell rang and it only fueled the sexual fire in your husband's belly. then when you started to undress he piped up, "don't take off the collar, my love. it looks good on you."

you gave him a sly look, "oh, does someone like the cow look?" you giggled a little.

carlos took his hand off his cock to take off his white t-shirt. he said, matter-o-factly, "well, i'm getting you pregnant tonight. so, i guess i do love it." his words excited you.

you two had been trying to start a family for almost six months. with carlos' racing career was starting to slow down, it was time to start the next chapter. and that meant adding to your little family. and maybe that was a small reason why you chose such an outfit to wear tonight.

once you were nude, save for the choker with the bell on it, you got into bed with your husband. carlos quickly got his clothes off, and then joined your costume on the floor. you giggled as you laid on your stomach, carlos leaned in to kiss you on the neck. all the spots that made you squirm.

"beautiful, beautiful." he said lovingly as he got behind you. he rested on top of you. your legs were spread a little, letting your cunt be exposed to him. he continued to kiss your neck lovingly. he placed his hands on either side of you and raised his hips a little to get better access to your sex.

you moaned, "shit, carlos. honey." you replied. you made a soft noise as he pushed himself inside of you. you held onto the pillow under your head and kept your hips down onto the bed. the angle hit all the right places and it made heat bloom in your chest.

he shuddered, "that's it. that's it." he felt a knot in his chest for a moment from the excitement as he started to move against you. it wasn't particularly rough. carlos was very rarely rough with you, his movements were punishing.

he never wanted to hurt his wife.

you whined a little bit, "fuck, carlos. the feels good. your breasts rubbed against the soft covers as you arched your back a little from the pleasure of it all. your husband knew how to take care of you in every way he could.

you never went without, not in love, physical items or orgasms. carlos sainz adored you, loved more than words could describe. from a smile that pulled him in like a bee to a flower. to your powerful laugh that was infectious. you were his beloved, his angel, his wife.

you could be in rags and he'd still want to capture your lips in his and fuck you until you both felt amazing. he worshiped you like a higher power who improved his life every day. he loved you, it was as clear as that.

"mmm, my wife." he said as he continued to move against you. his thrusts were powerful, but slower. he wasn't bouncing you on his length, but rather feeling up every inch of you. his lips were close to the side of your neck where he knew you were ticklish.

you buried your face up against the pillows. you knew that you were getting your make-up on it. but it could all be cleaned later. it wasn't the first time you had gotten mascara all over the covers. carlos sometimes didn't know the meaning of patience to let you grab a make-up wipe.

the bell around your neck made noises from the movements of your husband's thrusts. it excited both of you, it added to the noises the two of you were making while you fucked.

"you feel amazing." he groaned.

you blushed. you then continued to make sweet noises as your husband fucked you. he thrusted in and out of you and it made everything run hot inside of you. he was painfully amazing like that. the kind of husband that made most jealous. someone so attentive and loving.

you were a confident woman who could carry her own, but carlos was always there to support you. he wanted to make you shine, he wanted to show the world how amazing you were. he would consider himself a fool if he tried to dampen your sparkle. ruin your shine.

"fuck, my love." you moaned as he brushed his lips against a particularly soft spot on your neck. your nipples grew hard and your cunt clenched around him. which made carlos groan from the feeling. you were beyond perfect.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

the bed shifted a little under your movements and the noises got louder. a happily married couple in the sheets together. the heat shared between you two. you felt a leap in your stomach and the heat in your core. the bell around your neck clanged with each of the movement and it turned carlos on even more.

you felt your climax come onto you. you held onto the pillow tighter and arched your back a little further from the feeling of it all. but carlos quickly kept your hips back onto the bed as he pushed further, as deep as he could go. you whined, "i'm cumming." as you finished around him.

he picked up the pace a little bit and really got to working your achy cunt. he made sure he had every inch inside of you. when he moved he still kept himself inside of you. his groans got louder and quickly after he finished inside of you. he cured under his breath and said that he loved you deeply.

you both laid there for a moment before carlos pressed a kiss to the center of your back before he pulled out and cuddled you up in his arms witha vast number of kisses against your heated skin.

"happy halloween, my love." he said, "keep the costume, but don't wear it to any parties."

-

this year, the costume you picked was a little different. when carlos said you were going as a cow, he liked what he saw a lot better. it was one of those character onsies made to look like a cow.

"i should've gone as a farmer." carlos chuckled while you gave him a look.

"i don't want to think of the implications. plus, i have my partner for this costume this year." then turned back to your five month on on the changing table, "isn't that right, you're my little cheesy boy this evening!" you beamed at your son. your comment made your husband snicker.

you were going as a cow and your son was going as a piece of cheese for his first halloween. which was just a yellow onesie you stuck spots onto to give the impression of cheese holes.

carlos had a matching cow costume too, but it was too hot to put it on at that moment. he had to admit, you looked as equally hot in that costume as you did from the year prior. especially as you held onto your son and peppered his little face with kisses.

the previous halloween wasn't one to forget, and he hoped this one would be as exciting to. even if you were much more covered up <3

[hyunjinsjeans]

He knows (Lee Know ver.)

Chan ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: You married your best friend. You knew each other like the back of your hands. Lately, he has noticed you're holding back on him, why is that? He couldn’t know! You haven't told him, have you?

Type: Fluff 🧸, suggestive themes (sexually explicit) 🙈, female reader 💃

Warnings: sexually explicit themes, mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 2347

AN: Listen...I- had to do this. I had to do this and it had to be somewhat smutty because it's Lee Menace-to-society Know. I hope you like it because I plan to do a version for each member. I'm not sure what came over me, but I'm having a lot of fun writing these so I might as well share.

Minho was mean sometimes. He could be cold if he wanted to, but he usually saved that for whenever he was annoyed or you pushed his buttons too freely. Even as he showed you that side of himself there was always more reservation with it when it came to you. It was something the boys noticed early on in your relationship, when you had joined Hyunjin in making fun of a little sound your then-boyfriend let out at the first sip of his morning coffee. While you got a dirty look and had his nose pretty much pressed against yours as he threatened to help you quiet down, Hyunjin received a firm shoulder grab and got a handful of tissues shoved into his mouth.

This is why you felt so bewildered at his actions when you arrived at the camping site and he was extra nice.

While he usually let you do things on your own, trusting you were a fully functional individual... he did not even try to take the lead and ask you to start unloading the car. Instead, he grabbed the things from the trunk and began setting everything down near the spot you had chosen for the tent.

You pulled the zipper of your jacket up on your chin and waited for at least one simple call for help from your husband. When you realized he would not attempt to hand you any of the bags you went to the pile of stuff to start setting up the tent.

You had wondered the night before if maybe it was not the best time of the year to come out here and have a weekend away from the city, seeing as snow began painting the streets white, but you two loved camping and the serenity that being in the woods brought to you. With jobs of your own it was difficult to find the time to pack up and leave for even a day. The truth was you two didn't have much time to dedicate to your favorite hobby. Once you started setting up, you were careful not to slip on the snow around you. Minho hurried to your side once the car was unloaded, smiling at each other you handed him some of the bigger pieces of metal that formed the large frame and working together the tent was up in no time.

"Hmm, it's going to be quiet out here tonight," you told him once you started gathering the things to set up the portable stove.

Minho nodded, reaching out to hold you and stop you from moving a finger. Your husband wrapped his arms around your waist and stood behind you, his eyes closed and he sighed in relief.

He could smell the subtle coconut scent from your shampoo on your hair when he placed his chin on your shoulder. A fresh scent reminiscent of flowers emanating from your neck from your favorite perfume. The combination smelled like home to your husband.

He loved to have you all to himself, even if it was only when work allowed it. You had your own job and he tried not to stand on your way and be supportive the way you were supportive of him. As soon as he knew he would have some free time he would let you know so you two could coordinate and stay home together. Minho had felt the weight be lifted off his shoulders the first time you tagged along to an event. That was when the penny dropped for him, he was most relaxed when you were there with him. The kids told him too once they returned from the trip and it became clear you were a fundamental part of his life. There was no going back.

He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loved to monopolize your time. As much as you would give him space to do his job and talk to his fans through lives and events, he always came home to sit next to you and put his head in your lap while the cats cuddled around the two. He liked cooking for you at night whenever he was home first, and if you made dinner it was a done deal that he would do the dishes while you helped him dry them and put them away while telling him all the latest office gossip. To Lee Know you were home.

So yes, he was guilty of being selfish when it came to sharing you, he knew that. He was the jealous type, the only forgiveness he had was for his members and your families.

He was aware he would have to share you someday, he let his nose rub against your neck as he thought about it.

"I'm not so sure about that..." he snuck his hands to your sides and as his chin rested on your shoulder he tickled you.

Your laughter filled the air in a moment and you struggled to regain composure in his grasp while all he did was smirk against your skin.

"Minho! Please!" You reached for his hands and grabbed them, his relenting movements allowing it.

If he had to share you with anyone, who better than your own children?

"Oh, you love it…" He watched how you intertwined your hands with his, making him hold you again, and now you pressed your back to his chest. "comfortable?"

You nodded with a childish hint of joy in your eyes.

"It's been so long since we came out here," you pointed out. "when was the last time we went camping?"

Minho put his chin on top of your head, "before the wedding."

You hummed.

It had been more than a year then, you sighed and pulled away to go find the bags with the things to make dinner. Minho all but ran to get the heavier things out of your hands, mumbling an "I got it" before he started setting up. You helped him with as much patience as you could gather, then once the two of you began prepping the ingredients for a quick ramyon you laughed talking to each other about the going on's at work.

He liked to hear everything from you, you could recite a weather report and he would be mesmerized. And you loved to hear him too, always waiting for him to be ready to speak, he was eloquent in great part because he was honest, although sometimes he could sound mean if he spoke too quickly.

Either of you was the kind to beat around the bushes, which is why he had been so curious the last couple of days.

As the group finished preparing for their upcoming comeback, Lee Know realized you were acting weird... He saw the little envelope on the coffee table just a few days ago. It was some test you had done at the doctor's office, and he did not mean to snoop. It was lying there, in plain sight, and he did not think much of it as he pulled the papers out and read through them. At first, he thought he was not able to understand its contents, then he saw the doctor's handwriting and the quite specific instructions at the bottom of the last page.

Why didn't he ask? It had something to do with the way you hid the envelope as soon as you had a chance. And the fact that you never mentioned your visit to the doctor, or that you had blood drawn. Your husband wasn't happy you were hiding things from him, but he respected your privacy. So he told himself he would give you time to bring it up on your own.

By the time you were done eating dinner, he considered enough time had passed and you had said nothing.

You cleaned up while singing a silly version of one of your favorite songs. Lee Know kept his voice down to enjoy your playful and chaotic performance, it brought a big smile to his face watching you dance around the small camp.

The two of you decided to call it a night and get into your warm tent. Your husband let you get under the covers first and then crawled beside you, pulling you against his side. You made sure the fluffy blanket covered him well while you put your head on his shoulder, your left leg perched over his waist.

“Y/N?” He whispered.

He did not want to sound harsh, on the contrary; he wanted to be smooth as he eased into the topic.

You brought your left hand over his stomach. "Hm?"

Minho was staring at you with a side smirk on his face, one that made it seem like he knew something you did not. And he kind of did this time.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" He squeezed your thigh and you nodded in response, swallowing.

"You can tell me anything too," you reassured him.

Cute, he thought. It wasn't him who had something to say.

He brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek while his thumb caressed your skin.

"I missed this," he said.

You pushed yourself a little to the side and let your lips touch his in a short chaste kiss. With your eyes closed you kissed his plush lips a second time, this time his hand fell down to your jaw and neck, pulling you down against his hungrier kiss.

Your heartbeat quickened as you reciprocated. Your hands and knees found the plush covers and you held yourself above him, letting his tongue past your lips as he deepened the kiss. His hands found the hem of your shirt and hid underneath it, fingers squeezing your hips. You shifted your weight onto one of your hands and pulled away briefly to grab your hair and push it onto your left shoulder. Lee Know’s lips followed your own and he was propped up on one of his elbows soon enough, lips against yours.

You went to put a hand on his chest, to push him onto his back again, but he grabbed your leg and in a swift motion he had you flipped onto your back, his body now slotted between your legs as he laid kisses down your neck, finding the sensitive spot near your right ear. He gave a light nibble and heard you gasp. Your body reacted too, hips rolling against his in search of some friction.

Your husband gave in to his less noble needs and rolled his hips against you as well, this time you let out a moan at the sensation. Your hands finding his back and pulling him closer to you.

“What do you want?” He whispered in your ear. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You put your hand on the back of his neck as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck.

“You,” it came out as a shaky breath, but Lee know was being generous and he let it go.

“Me?” He smiled against your skin, feeling the way you pushed your body against his. “Hmmm, do you think we can do that?”

He rolled his hips against yours, his obvious boner pressed against your clothed core. Another moan left your lips and you went to cup his cheek and kiss his lips again. Lee know kissed you back, something in him found you endearing at that moment. You were clinging to him, he was sure he could make you beg but he didn’t want to. Not tonight at least. He had different plans.

“We can,” you assured him, eyes finding his brown ones above you.

He smiled at your blown out pupils, lust evident in them.

“Well, what did the doctor say about that?” He brushed his nose against your nose in what was a rare moment of tenderness from your usually quite rough husband. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my wife,” he gave your lips a gentle peck. “Or my baby…”

Your eyes widened and a pink blush washed over your cheeks.

“How do you know?!” You put a hand on his chest to push him back a little.

You stared at each other and Lee Know let out a light giggle.

“Take a guess, Jagi”

You blinked, "you found my results?"

Minho shrugged, "they were on the coffee table."

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a good five seconds.

"A-are you mad?" You asked, lowering your voice to an almost inaudible whisper.

Minho lowered his voice and shook his head.

"Not at all, why would I be?" he kissed your nose.

In fact he was a little proud of himself, proud of you. Deep inside he was excited about the prospect of showing off your round belly and have everyone know you were having his baby.

"…because we didn't plan it," you admitted.

He understood then that the reason why you had kept it secret was in part fear of how he would take it. Oh, if only you knew…

“Babe, I don’t care.” He said simply, “it’s here, it’s happening. We’re doing this.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot to take my pill a few times while we were in New York an-“ you began explaining.

“Shhh,” he rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face, “it’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I know, I was there and I didn’t bring a condom so it’s not like we can blame each other. It’s fine. I saw the papers. All I’m worried about is that you are okay.”

“I am okay,” you gave him a small smile, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he sighed. “The doctor said the baby is fine too.”

“Hmm,” he nodded in content, leaning down to brush his lips against yours slowly.

You breathed in his scent, strong like pinewood and citrusy. Your lips followed his and you let his tongue enter your mouth, savoring each other in the silence of a quiet night away from the busy city.

————

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING MEAN !!! MAX V. X FEM!CHARACTER (18+)

summary: test the dutchman and he’ll test your limits — OR mean!max content goes brrrr…

content warning: smut (minors dni!), brief descriptions of dacryphilia, impact play, orgasm denial and squirting, literally just dirty, max just being a smug piece of shit but i like that ig 😋, smut under the cut!!!

note: i don’t know how to write smut (literally the first time writing one) and english is my second language so beware of shitty writing 🙏 please don’t judge me i’m trying

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

this had to be the… what? sixth time he denied her climax? yeah. something like that. but max couldn’t help it; she called him out on it in front of their friends— he wasn’t about to allow her to humiliate him like that.

“yeah he’s an asshole. he might be mean to others but i don’t know… he doesn’t seem like he would be mean in bed,” she laughed with their mates earlier today as she teased him with a flirtatious smile, “he won’t be vanilla. but he won’t be the type to deny for fun.” 

yeah right, max almost scoffed as his palm struck her throbbing cunt again— eliciting a pitiful cry of pleasure out of her mouth, and who’s being denied now? certainly not him. 

he could do this shit all day. he could continue to fuck her with his fingers that were three times bigger than hers until she was seeing white and even passed out after. he could just stay here and give her more than she’d been begging for. 

but her? she was just begging him pitifully to let her cum only to be denied with a hint of laughter and mockery. she loved it, but she needed more— and she was crying because he wouldn’t give it.

the red bull driver looked up at her. she was so pretty like this: incredibly fucked out, her eyes and lips puffy from begging and crying for more— for an orgasm, and her cheeks drying the tears that fell from her eyes. 

he couldn’t even deny that he enjoyed seeing her like this. but he’d have to be nice to her eventually— he had to ensure he wouldn’t push past her limits. 

his fingers curled up inside her again, sliding back and forth as he continued to hit the sensitive spot of her walls in a rigorous manner as he let out a breathless chuckle. she squealed in a high pitched tone, her body convulsing as she neared her high. 

“you look so pretty like this, schatje,” he crooned, holding her hips down as he continued to fuck her cunt with his fingers. “so desperate to cum that you’re crying for me. i thought i wouldn’t be mean, hm?” 

“m-“ she babbled, “max please~”

“please what, schatje?” her lips trembled as her body shook. “wanna cum?” 

“‘m cumming… i- i- hah~” she cried out, max’s lips spreading widely as he felt her walls clenching around his fingers. 

max silenced her with his lips reaching hers, hungrily devouring her as she whimpered. “go ahead. cum,” his fingers continued to thrust inside her rapidly as a sharp cry of relief escaped her mouth. liquid trickled out of her pussy as max grinned against her lips, his fingers drowning in her pleasure as her body slowly eased into the bed. 

breathlessly, she looked at him and grinned. max cleaned his fingers as his mouth opened with a pop and a smirk. 

“i hope you know that this isn’t it for tonight, schatje,” he muttered, grabbing a handful of her hair before tugging it harshly. “because i’m gonna make sure you’ll understand how mean i can get when i ruin you with my cock. maybe by then you’ll learn how to watch your words, hm?” 

[kesadoll]

♡ CWS MDNI 3.8k ♡ brattyblack!reader, boss!shiu, coworker!toji, oral {f + m}, unprotected, d♡ggy, poor y/n gets manhandled over shiu's desk, it gets NASTY. {petnames: doll, baby, brat, slut. ♡}

♡ sum. you came back from a mission to get sent off on another, but before you went your boss & coworker had something to say about your attitude...

kesa's note just wanted to let it be known I made about 4 other drafts after this one but ended up coming back to this..... but it fed something in me i didn't know was hungry LMAOO i hope u like it :p asks & reblogs always welcome!

you walked down a series of halls, each step you took feeling like it drained what little energy you had left. you were covered in what you could only assume was blood, sweat, and mud.

see, you were…a spy of sorts. you’d go gather intel, beat up, and maybe kill someone if you were tasked to, maybe even just for fun. you were a wildcard and a headache for your poor boss, shiu. 

you walked into his office, plopping yourself on the large couch that sat in the middle of the room and sprawling out. shiu was there, smoking his usual cigarette, shooting a glance at you as he tidied up some papers. “someone needs a shower,” he said, gesturing over to your dirtied clothes and the way your hair curled at your neck from sweat, his baritone like music to your ears. 

you wanted to protest, but you knew better. talking back to shiu usually meant some type of harsh and unreasonable punishment, and you were far too exhausted so you resorted to a grumble. his gaze softened, seeing the exhaustion on your face. he felt guilty for sending you to a job by yourself, but he knew you could do it which is why he sent you anyway. 

shiu took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke billowing from between his lips as he exhaled, “it was that bad?”

you nodded faintly, huffing, “didn’t think it would be soooo much work..” he chuckled at your pouting, finding it amusing. it was rare to see you in such a state, but you were much calmer than you usually were, and it saved shiu the headache. 

he ashed his cigarette over the fancy-looking ashtray on his desk as he spoke, “you’re capable, that’s why i let you take the job. besides..” he paused, blowing a cloud of smoke towards you, “if you couldn’t handle it, you would’ve been dead the minute you walked in there.”

you lifted your head, your usual wide eyes sending metaphorical lasers right through shiu’s head. this was your normal attitude, kinda crazy and a tad ditzy, but you were extremely lethal and beyond just smart. “mmmh!” you  grumbled, resting your head back again, “they almost made me lose a nail!”

shiu let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly at your usual attitude. sometimes, he wondered who's the bigger pain in the ass: you or him. he stubbed out his cigarette on the table, watching as the ashes fall to the floor. he leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face, "you know, someday that crazy attitude of yours is gonna be the death of you."

“or you’re gonna be the death of me!” you kicked your legs, practically throwing a fit in your seat. “you’re the one who hired me off the street and sent me off to do your dirty work!” after his laugh filled the room, you went limp, being a total drama queen. “what was the main point of me going there anyway?”

he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. “it’s like you never listen to a thing i tell you. i sent you to get intel on some freeloaders that crossed someone important. they’ve gone off the radar and i’m tired of hearing about it.”

“oh yeah!” you recounted, remembering what you came in here to tell shiu, “apparently the guy you wanted ran off to some island i’ve never heard about before. i wrote it down before i dealt with those mangy-lookin’ henchmen.” you pulled a small piece of paper out the pocket of your shorts. you couldn’t help but stretch momentarily, the exhaustion starting to get to you before you began to walk over to him. 

shiu’s eyes wandered up and down your body, as you sauntered over towards him. you looked like a wreck, but still beautiful nonetheless. 

“goddamn it.” he grumbled, snuffing out his cigarette before grabbing another one. he offered you one, knowing that sometimes after a mission like that you needed it more than he did. “i’ll send someone else to follow up then.”

you couldn’t help but pout, shaking your head at the cigarette as you sat on the desk in front of him. “why can’t i go?!” your voice was almost a whine. 

shiu placed a comforting hand on your knee, its scarred digits giving it a gentle squeeze. despite how annoying you could be, you were cute, which made it worse knowing how you got his attention. “let’s use our critical thinking skills. you think i’m going to let you go to some island by yourself?”

he did have a fair point. he wanted as much information about where he was going to send you and since this was a new area and there were time constraints? going by yourself was absolutely out of the question. though you wanted to go, you loved how shiu protected you always.

“you could come with me! i’ve never gotten to see you in action,” you squeaked in defiance, trying to hide the heat you felt in your cheeks at his touch, “i bet you we both could deal without them no problem!”

shiu chuckled at your determination, his hand moving up your thigh slightly. you acted like a spoiled brat, and he found it endearing especially since he knew it was his fault anyway. he lit his new cigarette and took a long drag, smoke billowing from between his lips as he spoke.

“you know i can’t do that, doll,” his dark eyes bore into yours, the nickname causing you to catch your breaths moving faster, “and what if you get hurt, huh? who’s gonna take care of you then?” 

“mmmnnn….the nice nurses down the hall, they’re really good!” you giggled nervously, taking off your thigh holster so you’d be able to break eye contact with him. it wasn’t very often the two of you got to spend time together like this, but when you did you tried to soak up as much of it as you could before you got too nervous to even be sitting next to him.

 out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he was smirking, his hand moving up your thigh again. despite how much he teased you knowing how you’d melt, he enjoyed the closeness himself and he always tried to let you know, even if it was subtle.

shiu glanced down at the holster you placed on the table, his hand moving to your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles, “i’ll make you a deal. you can go, but he has to go with you.” before you could even process the way his large hand fit perfectly on your hip your eyes shot up at him, almost shouting in protest, but you stopped yourself knowing if you did you wouldn’t be able to go at all.

the “him” in question was fushiguro toji, a coworker of yours you swore was your enemy. the two of you worked together once, and you hoped you never had to again. he was incredibly hot (and the two of you were a breath away from lips touching), yes, but he was an asshole and acted like he hated everything, which wasn’t far from the truth.

a door opened behind you and your eyes narrowed at shiu, realizing he had planned to send you off with toji the whole time. “the two of you will be working together,” shiu said, blowing smoke from his lips again, not at all moving his hand from your hip.

toji grunted, looking back and forth between shiu and the back of your head. “don’t wanna, but i’m here.”

“great, you didn’t have much of a choice anyway.” shiu said, trying to comfort you by squeezing your waist before he stood. toji truly hated working with others, but he had to admit that out of everyone he tolerated working with you the most. you being prettier than a lot of them was only another plus for him. but for you, knowing toji was like shiu’s best friend and right-hand man, it made you sick.

“whatever.” toji spat back, moving over to the couch you once sat on, leaning his cheek on his fist. 

you rolled your eyes, your arms and legs now crossed, “he acts like everything is so miserable all the damn time.” you didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in your voice, wanting toji to know that you were just as miserable as him. 

“yeah, because it is.” he said flatly, but that stupid smile was on his face. “unfortunately, i’ll be just as miserable working with you, you know we don’t have a choice.”

“you’ll both get over it, yeah?” shiu chuckled, the back and forth between the two of you being amusing to him. 

“or not” you huffed, starting to get irritated on top of your being tired.

“she’s so dramatic.” toji hummed against his hand, his eyes trailing up your back.

“fuck you,” you mumbled, making sure either of them couldn’t hear you..or so you thought.

shiu’s eyebrow raised. he looked down at you, an expression on his face you couldn’t quite put a name to. before you could blink, his hands were on either side of you, his brolic frame leaning over you, his muscles begging for release under his dress shirt. 

“repeat that for me.” toji’s voice came from directly behind you, making you flinch at the sound.

now you were in a predicament. you were sandwiched between the two big men, seeing toji’s large hand out of your peripherals. if you responded, you were sure not going to be able to go on the mission you were just begging to go on earlier. even if you wanted to say anything the air between the two men was way too thick with their cologne for you, opting to just shake your head no.

wrong answer

“she was being so good earlier, i don’t know what happened.” shiu took a moment to admire your face, studying your features. he raised a hand to your cheek, knowing how much you loved it when he did so, cupping it while you looked up at him, “you’re always causing me trouble and giving me headaches..i’ll give you another chance to use your words.”

you couldn’t help but lean your head into his hand. you brought your hands up to his forearm, holding his arm there. shiu felt a mixture of affection and amusement knowing you’d already sealed your fate as he rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

“the brat is obsessed with you,” toji leaned over you, looking at shiu. from what you could see when you looked up, toji was giving shiu a dangerous smirk, a form of silent communication between the two of them, except shiu wasn’t so quiet.

“y/n, wanna make it up to me?” you nodded eagerly, watching as shiu lit a new cigarette, stepping back to take a seat in his chair, “instead of me punishing you, toji’s going to do it. that’s your punishment.”

you stared blankly for just a moment, not knowing what shiu was talking about until toji’s large hands appeared on your thighs, trailing up your body before stopping at your breasts, and cupping them. “but wh-”

“you talk to him like that, you’re also disrespecting me, you know that doll.” shiu cut off whatever you were about to say, watching as his best friend massaged your tits, adjusting himself in his seat once he saw your legs start to spread on their own, his eyes never leaving them, “he’s just going to teach you to watch your mouth, i’ve let you off the hook too many times cause i like you. ”

you got excited hearing shiu’s words but got sidetracked once you felt toji push your shirt and bra up and over your breasts, the cold air causing you to let out a quiet whimper. “i dunno boss,” he teased, bringing his face down beside yours, “it looks like she’s liking this a little too much, huh?”

he did have a point but why would you ever admit that, “ i-i do- ngh!” your hips bucked at the sudden assault on your nipples, toji’s calloused fingers relentlessly tugging, pinching, and rolling over your nipples. head leaned back and you still tried to deny it, which only led to toji turning you around and laying you on your back.

shiu appeared behind you to make sure that you were watching toji as he pulled off your shorts and panties, his gaze darkening once it landed on your cunt that was already so soaked. he dragged two fingers through your folds and you squeezed your legs together, or tried to, only to be met by a slap to your breast by shiu, afterward him reaching down and holding your legs open and up by your chest. “you’re gonna keep your legs open, understand?”

“y-yes sir,” you mewled. toji was merely playing with your essence, enjoying the way you greedily rocked your hips while you lay in shiu’s arms. something about it did so much to him, and he knew it did just as much, if not more, for you as well.

“she’s so pretty, and her cunt is even prettier.” he purred to himself, but shiu agreed nonetheless, his hands toying with your breasts despite him not supposed to be having contact with you, he couldn’t help himself. he really couldn’t help himself seeing now, watching toji bury his face into your pussy. “tell me how good it tastes.”

“t- oji!” you hiccuped, toji humming against your clit in response. his nose was pushed up against your mound, his tongue lapping at your folds nauseatingly before he sucked them up into his mouth while he shook his head. even his stubble was tickling you in all the right places. your eyes rolled so far back you thought you could smell colors, your hand tangling in his dark hair.

“yeah? watch him eat your fuckin’ pussy, open your eyes.” your eyes came back once you felt a tap on your cheek, looking up to see shiu tilting your head back down at toji who was looking right back at you. you truly were trying your hardest, but the way the man between your legs was groaning against, sucking, and swirling at your already puffy cunt made it extremely hard to breathe, let alone keep your eyes open and focused.

 you caught yourself going cross-eyed, not able to help the drool that fell from your lips, when toji plunged a finger into your hole, mouth still locked onto your clit. the slutty noises that came from him; grunts, slurps, & groans, reveling in the scent and taste of your pussy..he’s fucking nasty. 

just when your lower stomach tightened, shiu said the worst thing he could’ve ever said at that moment, “stop.”

toji didn’t hesitate to release you from his mouth with a pop, giving you kisses up your stomach as to apologize, your whines and babbling pleas making him feel just the slightest bit bad for you.”i’m sorry baby,” he cooed, your hips still grinding up into the air, trying to find some type of friction. “poor thing, you taste so good.”

“if you want to cum, you’ll have to convince me you deserve it, doll.” shiu said sweetly, pushing your beautiful curls out your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks that would’ve been red had it not been for your pretty brown skin. 

“give the brat to me,” toji gave you that sickening smile while shiu picked you up like it was nothing and laid you down on your stomach so now you were facing toji..well the thick bulge that was straining through his sweats. “see what you did?”

toji shamelessly palmed himself through his pants, his head slightly cocked to the side as he watched your face contort once in pleasure once you felt shiu’s middle and index finger rub deep figure 8’s into your clit, toji’s nostrils flaring. “she’s s’fucking hot.” 

“i told you so.” shiu hummed, his other hand giving your ass a tight grip before he brought his hand down on it, the stinging sensation making you whine and clench around nothing. “y/n, pull his pants down.”

you nodded, nibbling in your bottom lip at the thought of where this thing might be going sooner rather than later. you grabbed a hold of toji’s waistband and wasted no time pulling it down. toji’s cock flopped on your face, causing the three of you to smile or laugh, especially with the squeak you made.

“open,” toji pushed your hair from the front of your face, his fingers gently tangling in with your messy curls. his hand stopped at the top of your head, pulling your head towards him once you opened your mouth. 

a gag slipped past your lips and around toji’s cock, his thick and spongey tip catching you off guard once he pushed down. “oh fuck-” a groan resonated from in his chest, his head falling back as he did so. toji began thrusting into your mouth, the motion causing you to push back onto shiu’s fingers which had found their way into your needy cunt.

the room was filled with toji’s grunts and moans, your slew of gags, moans, and cries following his. shiu was taking it allllll in. something about watching your lips stretch around his best friend's cock, the way that your pretty brown eyes watered and rolled back, and the way that your pussy was sucking his fingers in so deep, your sopping wet walls begging him for more..and oh was he going to give it to you.

“fuck this,” shiu muttered through gritted teeth. from what you could hear through your poor, fuzzy ears was shiu scrambling to get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, not even attempting to pull his pants down. no, that would take entirely too long and he needed to feel you stretched around him and he needed it now. 

“she’s jus’ looks too good, huh?” toji grinned through one of his groans, a breathier one following after your throat tightened because of a moan, your tongue massaging those aching veins of his. shiu brought a hand to the fat of your left hip, keeping you from doing too much squirming while he rubbed the length of his thick cock between your folds, your wetness alone enough to lube him up.

“y/n, play with his balls.” shiu requested of you. you didn’t know why he asked you instead of toji, but the curse that slipped between his lips and the way his body lurched forward, you knew it was to shut him up, a little teasing smile curling up on your lips. 

that smile was quickly wiped off your face by the sudden fullness inside you, your aching walls welcoming shiu with pathetic squelches. toji lets you come up for air, his tip just resting on your puffy bottom lip, his pre and your spit dribbling off it.  “shiuu!~” you looked back to see shiu focused, both of his hands gripping your ass, still slipping his cock inside you, each little bit that went in making your knees wobble beneath you. 

“shhh,” toji massaged the top of your head with the hand he still had in your hair, his other hand turning you to face him. praises erupted from shiu whose hips finally met the fat of your ass. he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, a hand gliding up your back, following that perfect arch you were giving him so soon. 

toji’s dick started twitching at the sight: your ass recoiling every time you and shiu’s skin met, watching how his stomach muscles already started tensing and the ring of your cream starting to form around his base. you looked absolutely fucked out, your tongue lolling out your mouth in search of toji. he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, his grip tightening around your jaw, sliding his length right back into your mouth where it belonged.

at this point, saying you were shaking was an understatement. the way your poor body was being slung back and forth by the two dicks, one of which angled his thrusts so deep you thought he’d punch through your stomach at any moment now, the other so far down your throat your nose smushed up against the bottom of his belly now and then, feeling the way his balls tightened in your hand. if that wasn’t enough, both of them talking to you the way that they were had you teetering over the edge, and you could tell that they were too.

“gonna fill you up so deep with my cum, fuck-” shiu spoke in almost a whisper, “fill you up so fuckin’ deep you’ll give me a baby, yeah? gonna let your boss put a fuckin’ baby in you with your coworker’s dick in your mouth?” that was all you needed to hear before your body tensed up, going cross-eyed as you came around shiu, your pussy clenching down on him, your throat and mouth doing the same on toji while a stream of muffled moans left your lips. 

the two greedy men didn’t let up, if anything they only went harder. feeling you squeeze made shiu’s hips rut into you faster, his own eyes fluttering shut while he practically had you slamming back onto him with his hands.  a series of “oohh fuuuck-”s were flying out of shiu’s lips with each thrust, each one getting longer and needier, his head starting to roll back.

“you better fuckin’ fill her up…fill ‘er little cunt up shiu…do it..” toji grunted in between his own moans which only made shiu plow into you deeper, which in turn had your mouth bouncing on toji’s dick so good he almost fell forward again, his hand moving from your hair to grip onto the desk.  

words could no longer be formed between the both of them, only their moans and the slapping of skin circling through the room. toji finished first, muttering curses and praises all while holding your head still, his ribbons of ooey goodness trickling down your throat in little spurts. shiu wasn’t that far behind him either. he finished with a loud “holy shi-”, his hips stuttering, continuing his thrusts until his stomach trembled, finally pulling out of you along with toji. 

the both of them stood there for a moment, breathless. they admired how beautiful you looked lying on shiu’s desk. still twitching and panting, not able to help the quiet whines that came off you while you calmed down. “s’much for a punishment, you okay doll?” shiu’s voice was gentle, his hand massaging your lower back.

“look at her,” he moved your hair out of your face, revealing a cockdrunk smile and drool still dripping from your chin, “of course she liked it.”

“you little slut.”

orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..

mechanic!nanami next

[jo-harrington]

Antiquing v. Thrifting (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: You have a little booth at the local antique market and the owner of the neighboring booth tends to get on your nerves.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Slight enemies to lovers, meet cute, misunderstandings, fluff, banter

Note: This is a late birthday gift to one of my fandom loves who has become an amazing friend IRL too. @bettyfrommars. Betty thank you for being one of my weirdo soulmates, loving old gameshows, wishing we could live in a mid century modern house with all of the original fun appliances. You are one of my favorite people and since I can't send you my bowling ball (one day) I've written this for you. Love you.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

--

There was not much to drive you to want to murder someone. In fact, you would say that you were probably one of the most easygoing people you knew. And you knew plenty of people.

But the person at the receiving end of your ire, and the target of your bloodlust, was one of the most inconsiderate assholes you knew.

Actually, you didn’t even know who it was.

You’d been one of the vendors at The Little Traveler's Antique Market for years. You had a booth along the back wall, acquired when you realized your love of vintage Pyrex was getting a little too overzealous for your shoebox-cum-condo. Besides, the thrill of the hunt was the real thing that you enjoyed: estate sales and rummage sales and thrift stores were filled with treasures just waiting for you to find.

So a few shelves of Gooseberry and Butterprint went up, and eventually it turned into a haven for all sorts of vintage pieces. It was a shrine to your whims, rather than any real desire to find monetary value. Of course, people seemed to flock to it, so the cash you made from it was nice..but that was neither here nor there.

It was something you were good at, and something you loved. You'd met some very interesting people--and some of your closest friends--because of it. Heard the best stories.

Unfortunately, you'd also met some of the most insufferable people because of it too. Or rather, in this case, one insufferable person you pointedly had not met.

It had started when a bunch of Royal Doulton character mugs showed up in your space. And they weren't terrible, but they just weren't yours. Your hand-picked selection of Hazel Atlas glasses had been carelessly shoved to the side on a vintage mahogany sideboard you'd painstakingly hauled in, and in their place were Paddy and Toby and George Fucking Washington, all staring goofily up at you.

Ok, so maybe the Anne Boleyn one wasn't bad.

It was the principle of it. There were unspoken rules in an Antique Market. You just didn't encroach on someone else's space.

You painted the kindest smile you could manage--which, in all honesty, probably looked more like you were baring your teeth--and headed up to the front to confront the manager of the market.

"Margie," you began with a saccharine tone. You set the Anne Boelyn mug down on the counter. "May I kindly ask who Seller 86 is?"

"Oh, that's our new guy," she laughed, oblivious. "Ed. Great guy. He's got some fun stuff."

"Yeah, real fun."

"We did a little shuffle over the weekend," she continued, diving into one of her rambling midwest-isms. "Jim wanted to downsize, which opened a bigger space for Michelle to move into. One thing led to another, and I put Ed in Chelle's old space, next to yours. Hope you don't mind."

What could you say except a cordial of course not? Even as you were left to grumble and mope back to your booth to move all of the Royal Doulton back to Ed's new space. You set them out on a folding table he had in the corner, very nice and neat, which was your standard.

You might have also left a little, tiny, friendly, scathing note.

No big deal.

And you wouldn't lie, you snooped a little.

Come on, everyone else would, too. It was just...shopping. Not snooping.

You couldn't judge the wild array of things he had for sale; much like you, it seemed that everything in Ed's booth was suited to his tastes, because there was just a vibe of "who in their right mind would put some of this shit together." Little taxidermy animals playing poker, postcards from the most random places, vintage beer and coffee cans that, though empty, looked as new as the day they were bought. Garfield and Snoopy memorabilia. And mugs...so many mugs, as far as the eye could see.

It was charming, you could admit that, as long as it all stayed on his side of the vaguely-defined boundary between your booths.

Unfortunately, it did not.

It was never anything major but it was enough to annoy you. Books left out on a table, vinyl records in a crate in a corner, gaudy biker costume jewelry thrown in one of your mixing bowls. Each time you went to restock your booth, you'd have to find whatever treasures he left behind and return them, along with another note.

It was like finding the secret little corner where your cat pissed because they were mad at you. Admittedly, this might've been worse because you were proud. So very proud of your booth. It was a snapshot of you, after all. But that was sullied by little pieces of Ed, a guy you didn't even know, who seemed to enjoy pissing strangers off.

Every week, he metaphorically photobombed your snapshot at the last second and your perfect polaroid had bunny ears.

Or a crude gesture.

Or sometimes even his whole, bare ass.

And you were simply not vindictive enough to do anything about it.

It just wasn't worth the trouble to actually return the favor to him, or better yet, get him kicked from the market altogether. What if his little booth was his livelihood? What if this was how he made ends meet? Your pride wasn't worth ruining something for someone else.

Yes. You were a pushover.

You, surprisingly, got a reprieve for a few weeks.

Each time you'd gone to restock your booth with fun new treasures, there were no hidden trinkets waiting for you. Actually, Ed's booth didn't even look like it had been restocked or touched at all. There were holes in his displays where his wares had been purchased but not replenished. Was he on vacation? Maybe he was under the weather.

You took it upon yourself to spend a few minutes shuffling his mugs like a good neighbor would.

It was a disappointment relief.

Why wouldn't it be a relief? It wasn't like you'd started looking forward to what and where you'd find Ed's little surprises. It wasn't the thrill you'd get when the adrenaline spiked with your anger.

No, not at all.

"What's got you so pouty?" Margie asked as you trudged through the doors about three weeks after Ed's initial disappearance. "Did Dunkin get your coffee wrong again? That's how I know my morning is gonna be shitty."

"Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed," you gave a weak excuse and headed towards your booth.

You were juggling an armful of tote bags and your coat, so you didn't notice the stranger standing in your space as you approached, until they turned around and spotted you.

"Oh, hey, lemme help you with that," came the rasp of a friendly voice as you rounded the corner. You looked up, surprised, as a set of hands hoisted the heaviest of your tote bags from your grasp.

He was like a relic, frozen in time. In a good way, though, like a well-kept polaroid from the 80s. Faded band tee, bootcut blue jeans, leather jacket that looked butter-soft from eons of wear. His hair was on the longer side and tied back; salt-and-pepper streaks proudly confirmed his personal antique status, along with the crows feet surrounding his deep, warm brown eyes.

He was a gentleman...and he was cute.

You felt like an idiot as your eyes slid down to his left hand on instinct. But there was no ring, so that self-loathing feeling disappeared. Well, no wedding ring, actually. He had a gunmetal band on his pointer finger, and a silver signet ring on his pinky.

Time returned to its appropriate speed as he hauled the tote onto your folding table just a few feet away.

"Jesus, what've you got in here? Bricks?" he laughed. "Are you trying to put Home Depot out of business?"

"Uh..." You floundered for words. "P-pewter tea pots. One of my regulars is getting married. Asked me to keep an eye out for them for her centerpieces."

"Never seen that at a wedding before."

"How many weddings have you been to?" You questioned.

"Well, my buddy Gareth alone has gotten married 3 times." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against your sideboard. "So I think I've got a pretty good chance that I've seen it all.

"Is there anything I can help you find today?" you asked, laying your best customer service voice on thickly. You busied yourself with unpacking your bags so you wouldn't have to look at the charming, crooked smile that settled on his mouth. "Was there anything that caught your eye before my hopeless self stumbled over here?"

"Ah," he pushed off the sideboard and tilted his head up so he could scratch along the length of his neck. "I, uh, was looking at your cookie jars, actually."

"Oh yeah?" You looked up at that and glanced over to the hutch in the corner that held an array of Pillsbury doughboys in various, charming poses. "Can I tell you a secret? I used to hate watching commercials with Poppin' Fresh. That claymation was frightening. I think he's pretty cute now, though."

You abandoned your unpacking and approached the hutch to try and figure which cookie jar he'd been intrigued by. You picked up a jar that had its lid askew and were about to ask if he wanted you to bring it up to the counter for him, when you lifted the lid and looked inside.

And found a rubber-banded stack of Metallica cassettes carefully nestled inside.

You felt your face get hot as you stared at the track listing and colorful cover art of Ride the Lightning. Coincidentally the same album that was on this newcomer's t-shirt.

"So," you huffed and slammed the lid on the cookie jar, careless of any damage it might cause. "You're Ed, huh?"

He chuckled behind you, "Eddie, actually. I prefer to go by Eddie. But yeah, that's me." You pivoted on your heel and glared at him; he faltered under your burning gaze. "Nice to, uh, meet you. Neighbor."

And with that, you let him have it.

You might've blacked out at some point during the absolute barrage of a verbal dressing down you gave him. How dare he not respect the etiquette of the market and stay within the confines of his allotted space, how dare he waste your time week after week as simply minded your own business and sold your trinkets, and how dare he ignore every single note that you left behind.

The fucker had the audacity to look amused with every word that fell from your lips.

In the end, you stood there, huffing and puffing as you caught your breath and felt several months of anger finally extinguish.

"You done there, killer?" Eddie asked with a smirk. "You feel better?"

"Yeah," you shouted one last time, then lowered your voice. "Yes I do."

"Alright, good." He nodded. "Gotta get it out sometimes, otherwise you might get an ulcer. Or develop alcoholism."

"Might be close to both, to be honest," you muttered.

"Shit, then I'm extra, extra sorry that I put you through all of that, sweetheart." He laid a hand over his heart. "This is my first rodeo selling in a place like this, I didn't realize that everyone was so...territorial."

"Yeah, well. Most of the time I'm not." Lies. You were a liar. "I think the thing that pissed me off more is that I kept leaving notes for you and you kept ignoring them and messing with my shit."

Eddie looked bashful all of a sudden. "Oh shit. See I thought you were just flirting with me."

Talk about a record-scratch moment; what...what had he just said?

"Flirting?" you asked.

"I mean, yeah, not to sound cocky either because I was definitely flirting right back at you. What do they call it in the movies? A...meet cute moment? I thought it was fun. You leave me a sarcastic, threatening note, and I leave you a little treasure hunt to solve. Like a...fucked up version of You've Got Mail."

"That's nothing like You've Got Mail," you pointed out.

There was a beat.

"I think this is a really good time to mention that I fell asleep halfway through You've Got Mail," he explained with a laugh. "Regardless, I read things wrong. That's on me. But I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

He held his hand out to you and his brows shifted upwards and behind his dated bangs.

You worried at your bottom lip for a moment and tried to claw at the vestiges of your anger for a second, but this guy...he looked like such a kicked puppy...and you suppose that it was a cute way to flirt with someone you'd never met.

God, you really needed to work on that pushover thing.

"It's alright," you told him as you slid your hand into his and accepted his apology. "As long as you don't do it again."

"Cross my heart," he nodded enthusiastically.

You introduced yourself, formally, and offered your help in the future if he needed it. He introduced himself and told you that he would appreciate any pointers that you had to give.

"I'm pretty new to this whole...thrift thing," he shrugged. "I've had a bunch of this stuff in storage for a while. I used to move around a lot, you accumulate a lot of junk. And then my uncle...some of this stuff is his. Was his. He passed away last year. Finally decided I couldn't keep hoarding it all anymore. Turns out, I had a lot more shit than I thought I did."

"Story of my life," you laughed and offered your condolences. "It's hard, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of."

"Tell me about it."

"But, I do have one main lesson for you," you offered.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked. "Already? Just when I thought I couldn't fuck it up any more."

"It's an Antique Market," you told him. "Not a Thrift Store."

"There's a difference?" Eddie asked sarcastically, although a blush bloomed on his cheeks. "Guess the learning curve is much steeper than I thought."

"It's alright. You'll get it sooner or later." You smiled at him, trying to be as friendly and supportive as you could.

He stared at you for maybe a few seconds too long, then shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked forwards on his heels.

"Maybe you could explain it to me, in-depth?" he questioned. "Antiquing, thrifting, whatever."

"Of course," you agreed, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

"Over lunch?" He asked with a nervous smile. "There's a great diner up the road. And I figure I owe you one for all the anguish I put you through anyway."

You stared at him in shock for a second, wondering how to respond. First there was the comment about the flirting...and now this. What if he was a creep? But he didn't seem like as much of a jackass as you thought he was...and he was cute.

Oh, what the hell.

"You know what? Why not? I'm a girl who loves a free patty melt," you winked at him bravely. "It's a date!"

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I know you wanted more requests for people besides the marauders so you can do this for anyone you like but maybe reader who is just soooo in love with them that anytime they do something nice for her she starts crying? Like happy tears because she's just so in love and she doesn't know how to express that. If you don't want to that's fine!

Hi, thank you! I decided to go with Sirius anyway because I felt like he'd be the most fun. (This is gonna be me btw, the first time I experience romantic love there's no way I'm gonna be able to handle it)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to show off my tattoos on the first day?”

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, looking longingly at the way Sirius’ inked-up forearms pair with his black dress shirt. “I feel like after the interview it won’t matter, but today you probably want to present your straightest-laced self.” 

“Gross,” he grunts, but starts rolling down his sleeves. 

It’s a rare sight, Sirius up before noon, but his job interview is scheduled for ten and he doesn’t feel in a position to negotiate. The frail morning light bounces off the full length mirror he’s standing in front of and illuminates the room as he purses his lips and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You’re lying on the bed watching him get ready, trying your very best not to look enthralled and wanton (it is a constant effort). 

“My most gorgeous, radiant angel, could I ask you for a favor?” 

You grin, warmth flooding your chest. “You don’t have to butter me up. What is it?” 

“Grab the bigger version of this shirt? I think I may want a baggier tuck.” 

You hum and get up, padding into the closet. Sirius’ clothes are all strewn over the floor and dresser, but miraculously the shirt you’re looking for is on a hanger. As you reach for it, you nearly trip over a small box on the floor. It looks like the shell of something Sirius was sent in the mail, plain cardboard with the shipping label torn off. You bring it back out with you. 

“Thanks, lovely,” Sirius says as he takes the hanger from you. 

“No problem,” you reply. “Want me to recycle this for you?” 

He turns to look, blinks, then looks harder. “No. Where’d you find that?” 

“On the floor.” 

“Must have fallen off its shelf.” He discards the smaller shirt on the bed and starts doing up the buttons of this new one, smirking when your eyes track the deft movements of his fingers. “Don’t throw it out, it’s got important stuff in it.” 

You weigh the box in your hand. “It feels empty.” 

“Important, lightweight stuff.” 

You eye the barely-open flap of the box, intrigued. “Can I look inside?” 

You think you catch a flicker of hesitation across Sirius’ features, but it’s quickly schooled into insouciance. A vine of nervousness winds around your gut. “Sure,” he says, “go ahead.” 

You look at him a bit longer before slowly peeling back the cardboard flap. Inside is a mishmash of things. Paper, mostly, but you recognize one item immediately. It’s a flimsy, neon orange paper wristband, a venue’s name stamped haphazardly onto one side. At the first concert you’d gone to together, Sirius had griped endlessly about how the orange contrasted with his outfit horribly and brought out all the ugliest hues of his skin (there aren’t any, but you were too timid to tell him that at the time). He’d seemed desperate to be rid of it. But here it is, carefully clipped off instead of torn and preserved like something special. Something warm and weighty blooms in your chest. 

You take out one of the pieces of paper, unfolding it. It’s your handwriting, thoughtless scribbling you’d left for him to find on the fridge one day after you’d left for work. Have a great day, love you. 

Another is a bar napkin, containing a whole back-and-forth exchange between you and Sirius from the first time you’d met his friends. You’d kept passing it to him under the table, asking Do they like me? Are they just being nice? Is Remus always so frowny? and he’d passed it back saying Yes. Yes, they love you. James is this nice to everyone, but I can tell he likes you. Remus is being a sourpuss because he hasn’t eaten yet. You’re perfect. 

By the time you come upon a polaroid you’d forgotten he’d taken of you in his kitchen, you’re pressing your lips together to keep them from wobbling and your entire being feels warmed by incandescent, aching fondness. Your heart feels so big you can’t breathe around it. You’re not sure you have room for this much love, but you’ll happily carry it around like a weight in your chest for the rest of your life. 

You’re all too aware that Sirius is watching you now, so you try to keep it together for his sake, but when you blink a tear slides down the side of your nose. 

“Hey,” he chides lightly, amusement inlaid with a bit of panic. “Don’t.” 

You sniffle, then laugh wetly. “Can I hug you?” 

Normally he might make a joke (Not if you’re going to get snot all over my interview shirt) but something in your expression must sway him. Sirius’ eyes go soft. “Yeah, baby. Of course, c’mere.” 

He doesn’t make you get up, crossing the distance to the bed and wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a little sob at the contact. 

“I’m gonna clean off your shirt once we’re done,” you promise, gripping his shoulders. 

“Okay.” He sounds amused. 

“I just—I didn’t know you kept this stuff.” 

“It’s cheesy.” 

“It’s not,” you insist, hugging him tighter. It makes you happy beyond words, to know you’re bringing this out in him. To see, with your own eyes, how much he loves you back. You can check in with yourself at any time and know you’re happy in your relationship with Sirius, but you never could have imagined how spectacular it would feel to know that you make him this happy in return. “It’s special, Sirius. You’re special.” 

“You sound like James’ mum.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You smack his arm, pulling back with a huff. You’re smiling, though, and he sees, taking your wet, blotchy face between his palms and grinning at you. Honestly, if he weren’t Sirius Black, he’d be such a dork. 

“I love you,” he says, a significance in his tone that contradicts the playfulness in his expression. “Do I let you forget it?” 

“No,” you tell him. “You don’t, it’s just…I just really love you too, you know?” 

His smile spreads, flashing canines the second before he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s firm and spirited, and Sirius holds you there until you’re laughing into his mouth. 

“I know,” he says, pecking you once more on the lips before letting you go with a swipe of his thumbs across your cheeks. “Alright, gorgeous, clean me up, would you? I’ve got other people to go impress.”

[translatemunson]

save the date

top gun pilots x female!reader blurb cw: mentions of a dress. i believe this can be read as any of the daggers, minus nat (i'm writing something special just for our girl); lmk if i forgot anything.

You’ve gotten the ‘save the date’ months ago. The invitation only came through the mail a few weeks back, but it was 100% set in stone: you were attending your best friend’s wedding with your aviator boyfriend as your plus one. What you forgot to take into consideration was deployment.

It was like playing in a casino: you could get lucky and he wouldn’t be called for a mission until the wedding, or he would be god knows where doing whatever mission the Navy had for him, and you’d be missing him during the wedding.

And since you were never the luckiest person in the room, he got deployed. For six weeks. One month before the wedding date. Good luck telling all your friends you didn’t get dumped, it was just that your boyfriend was government property and they needed him overseas doing some good for the country. It was honorable, but still: you wanted to walk around the venue with a pretty aviator by your side.

It didn’t help that his internet access was limited, nor that you were having second thoughts about attending. Well, if not having someone with you was a problem, he told you he could get one of his friends to take care of you — just so other guys wouldn’t take a chance on his hot girlfriend. But it wasn’t just the lack of your boyfriend that was undermining your presence at the wedding.

One week the dress wasn’t good enough. The next one, just before his deployment, you weren’t sure about the tickets and hotel you booked — he said to keep them, even if he wasn’t going anymore, because you could use the extra space on the plane and the bigger bed. Your first email to him, while deployed, was about how nerve wrecked you were feeling now that your bestie asked you to do a speech. A few days later, you went through it with him, and he reassured you were doing amazing. 

“Gosh, this would be so much easier if you were here,” you admitted on your phone call.

“I know, baby. I promise to take you to a fancy event as soon as I’m back so I can have the chance to see you in that pretty dress.” He was trying his best to cheer you up.

But a phone call across the ocean wasn’t enough. You needed him there, with you, saying you look pretty even though your make up is nowhere near as done. Or telling you look like those old Hollywood stars when your hair was still on the hair curlers. Or saying you need to hurry up before it’s too late to get a nice parking spot at the venue. Or checking if you need a drink or something else during the reception.

You looked down at your phone, hitting “send” on another email, with pictures you took from the party. The whole place is covered with flowers and fairy lights hanging from the trees and ceiling, and you miss him so much it hurts more than your high heels.

You gave your speech minutes ago, and had one of your friends filming it for you. It was a nice piece about your best friend, how she was always the one saying you were gonna be married first but hey, look at you, alone at her wedding. Of course you made fun of the lack of a plus one, but it was fine. You brought back a few embarrassing memories, also spilled some tea on the fact that she had a list with the names for all of their babies. And if one of those names was not inspired by yours, you would be seeing her in court.

“Hey, do you wanna grab another drink with me?” Your friend nudged your arm. “I hate seeing you down.”

“Can you call the Navy and file an official complaint for me? I’ll give you his full name and call sign, so then later I can show up to the courtroom and use those as proof.” You threw your cell phone inside your bag. “Sorry, I’ve been under the weather since the news broke.”

“I know, babe, and I don’t blame you.” She gave you a soft smile. “I think a drink might help you. And maybe I can convince that waiter I’ve told you about to sneak a few sweets for us.”

“Just one more drink, then I’m going back to the hotel.”

“You’re no fun, you know? Maybe something good is happening tonight.”

“Unless you have a teletransportation machine here somewhere to bring me my boyfriend, you can’t trap me for another hour with the promise of good booze alone.”

At the bar, you got yourself your favorite drink. It would be better if he was there, his hand on your waist, making comments about the party or asking you the little details about the people there. It would be his first time in your hometown, getting to know the place you were born and raised. You loved San Diego, but a piece of you would always love your hometown.

“I just wished they had decent Wi-Fi at the ship,” you murmured. “I’ve sent like a hundred pics since I’ve arrived, but still no reply. I can’t believe my own boyfriend is going MIA on me.”

“Hey, maybe it’s just bad connection. And based on what you’ve told me, I bet he’s pissed he’s somewhere in the ocean instead of by the side of his gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Please plan a wedding in the next few weeks so I can attend one with him.”

“Why don’t you plan your own wedding?” She turned the idea around.

“And throw a surprise wedding? I’m crazy, but even I have limits.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t take him too many deployments to pop the big question.”

“I might have to ask him to divorce the Navy before we can get married. Sorry, but I won’t be the mistress in this,” you laughed.

Halfway through your drink, your friend ended up going to talk to one of your colleagues from high school, and you went back to your table, staying up and trying to swing your body in the rhythm of the song — just to get your mind off of things.

You checked your phone, one notification from your email’s app. You clicked on it as fast as you could, blowing out in frustration when you saw it was just a marketing email.

You saw someone approaching from your peripheral vision, and you heard “Tough night?”

“Don’t even get me started.” You pushed your face into your hand.

“Try me, honey.”

You turned your face. And, magically, your boyfriend was there. You blinked a few times, not believing he was really sitting next to you, in a suit. You held tight into his arm, and he said “Did she let you have way too many drinks?”

“No. I mean, are you real?”

“Yes, baby, I’m real.”

“How?”

“Finished the mission early, called in for a few favors, got on the first plane here, and asked your friends to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my, you’re really here.” You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. The last time you were this close, it was the morning before his deployment. You always took the days up to the deployment as a chance to spend all the time together. Ok, you had to work, and the house chores wouldn’t magically disappear, but as soon as you were both at home, you’d stick to his side as glue.

“Sorry I missed your speech,” he hugged you back. “I’ll watch the footage later.”

“That’s ok. I’m so happy that you’re here,” you kissed his cheek.

“C’mon, let me take a look at my stunning girlfriend,” he took a step back and, with your hand in his, made you spin on your toes. The flowy dress and high heels were far from your daily clothes. “You look better than in the pictures, honey.”

Your cheeks blushed, and you could bet even the make up wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Thanks.” You took a look at him, finally noticing how good he looked in a normal suit. The color suited him like a glove, and you were considering finding a good excuse to see him wearing it again. You kinda begged him to attend in those pretty white suits the Navy had, but he was always saying those were only for special occasions.

“Should we take a picture?” He rested his hands on your waist.

“Sure!”

Now that you officially had your arm candy with you, it was time to walk around the party introducing your boyfriend to your friends. They were all very friendly and excited to meet him, but also kept the Navy related questions to a minimum. He was all smiles and handsy, keeping you close to him as much as possible.

You got your picture, on the balcony, with the gardens as a background to your affection. Your friend convinced one of the photographers to take a few official pictures — she used the “He’s Navy and flew all the way here to be with her!” card. On the first pic, you were close, side by side, smiling but keeping your hands to yourself.

And then the photographer asked you to look each other in the eyes, and it was like your lips had a magnet of some sorts. He pulled you closer, and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “Hold her like that!” the photographer said.

Once you had the pictures taken also on our phone, he took you to the dance floor. A slow song, something your parents would play in the car when you were younger, was telling the steps you were taking. Swaying slowly in the middle of the small crowd, soaking in that moment. You snuggled in closer to his chest, leaving him to lead you. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything before.” He pressed his lips on the side of your head.

“That’s ok. You know I like surprises when they come from you.”

“I know. And I like being with you.” Another kiss on the side of your face. “And I love you.”

You  tilted your head back, connecting your eyes, “I love you too."

[consistencynevermether]

Hellooo I absolutely love your writing and Vere series!! I was wondering if maybe you could write Vere reacting to the MC getting pretty injured?? From a Soulless or otherwise? Thank you so much!! <333

I'm so glad you like the series!! this fic got a little long, its just so much fun to write vere dialouge. Thank you for the ask!

content: vere x gn! reader, SFW, cannon typical swearing and mentions of serious injuries, 2.5k words

52. That's how many tiles you had counted on the ceiling of Kuras’s clinic so far. You had woken up about an hour ago, your shoulder bandaged, laying in one of the beds in Kuras’s clinic, with Vere standing on the other side of the room, pacing back and forth. When you woke, he barely spared you a glance and continued to pace, the clicking of his heels was the only sound in the room. 

You were in trouble. Big trouble. 

You tried to piece together your memories of what happened earlier that night. Your head was pounding, but the memories returned to you easily enough. 

You had been working at the clinic earlier and Kuras had asked you to deliver something to Ais. You had plenty of time to deliver the package, but you got caught up talking to Ais and petting Princess. By the time you were out of Ais’s territory, it was already sundown. You weren't too worried about it though. You had killed a few soulless since getting to Eridia, and you had the dagger Mihn had gifted you strapped to your thigh. But this one was different. It was bigger, stronger, faster than any of the other soulless you had thought before. You put up a good fight. You were smart and dodged when you needed to, struck its weak points with the dagger, and gave the fight all your focus. But this soulless was simply out of your skill range, and all it needed was one chance to latch on, and you were down. The soulless had found an opening and taken a massive chunk out of you, its rotting fangs sinking into your shoulder. 

Everything after that was just darkness. Until you had woken up in one of the clinic rooms about an hour ago. You don't know how you got there, but Vere was there when you woke up, and clearly not happy with you. 

You wanted to fix this before it became a problem. Vere had a nasty habit of being upset with you and instead of telling you why he was upset, he would simply avoid you, and you would have to track him down. The last thing you wanted was to try and track him through Hightown with an injured shoulder, so it was best if you talked this out now, while he was pacing back and forth in your room.

“Hey,” you cautioned. “So uh, I don't suppose you know how I got here?” you asked. 

Vere looked down at you, his mouth twisting into a combination of a cruel smirk and a grimace. 

“Oh you mean how did you end up at the hospital? The hospital run by the most insufferable person in all of Eridia? With half of your shoulder missing? Is that what you mean? Is THAT what you're asking me right now? Or MAYBE your asking about the part where I found your stupid ass half dead and bleeding out in the filthy fucking street, and had to drag you all the way here.” 

A tight, fake smile was plastered on Vere’s face as he spoke, while rage stormed in his eyes. You don't know what you said wrong, but it was most certainly wrong. You had never seen Vere so pissed at you before. 

You cleared your throat, not yet ready to throw in the towel and give in to Vere's anger. You could still talk to each other like the civil adults you were.

 “Well, thank you for-” you started

“THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? THANK YOU?” Vere bellowed, looking more unhinged by the second. 

Welp, so much for civility. 

“Well, what do you want me to say, Vere?” you snipped, annoyance bleeding into your tone. You already had a headache from the blood loss; you didn't need someone yelling at you, either. 

“Oh no, you do not get to have an attitude with me.” Vere snapped back. “Can you even comprehend how lucky you are? The only reason I found you was because the Sinobium had been getting complaints in Lowtown about the soulless. If not for that, I would be in Hightown right now doing jack shit while YOU would be a corpse cooling in the grime.” 

“I'll be more-” 

The words caught in your throat. What you wanted to say was “I'll be more careful”.

But you had been careful. You were alert, you traveled on all the best-lit roads, and you were armed. You had taken every precaution. And you had still nearly died. You couldn't hold back the bitter feeling at how outclassed you had been, especially since if Vere saved you, that meant he had probably killed the soulless that had taken you down with barely any struggle. There was nothing you could have done to have made that fight go any better. 

“What do you want from me, Vere? To just hide in my room two hours before the sun even begins to set to ensure nothing ever happens?” 

“Yes?!?!?” Vere responded as if it was the most obvious answer to exist. 

“Vere, I have work to do. That's obviously not feasible. And even if it was, I won't live my life in fear of the darkness.” you countered. 

Vere threw his head back and gave a bark of laughter.

“You know what, you're so right.” Sarcasm dripped in Vere's voice. “What is the worst that could happen after all? It's not like there's a risk of you DYING IN THE STREETS.” 

When Vere got mad, it made you more aware of the monster he was. When he yelled in rage, you could see all his fangs. When he waved his hands around in exasperation, you could hear the claws whiff against the air, as if they were sharp enough to cut through even oxygen. His ears were pressed flat against his head, and there was a snarl to his voice. This changed nothing to you, of course. You always knew what he was. He was just so good at disarming people with his charm, it was easy to forget he was built to be a killer. Even you, one of the people closest to him, were not immune to his disarming act. 

You opened your mouth to counter, but the words died in your throat once again. He made a good point. It wasn't a feasible point, but you understood his rage. You were really just arguing with him to avoid the shame you felt at how absolutely outclassed you felt. You couldn't just hide away from the world, you were working on top of trying to find a way to cure yourself and free Vere. You couldn't afford to just hide away and live in fear. But with that being said, if you had been in his position tonight, you would be just as upset. 

Damnit. 

After a long pause, you finally spoke again. 

“I'm sorry. I can’t put my life on hold because of this. But I will be more cautious when the sun sets. And I will keep training so next time I can get away. That's the best compromise I can offer you. And I am sorry Vere. I didn't mean to upset you. Or almost die.” 

You tried to give the last part of that sentence a lighthearted tone, in an attempt to lift the mood.

You expected more yelling. But instead when you looked at Vere, he was just quiet. After a few more agonizing moments of silence, you half expected him to walk out right then and there. Or throw a chair at your head. 

But to your shock, he simply hung his head and sat down on your bed.

You quickly scooted over to make room for him. 

He let out a long sigh and unceremoniously leaned down to flop his head on your chest. After a few moments, you felt like it was safe enough you could start gently stroking his head. 

You lightly petted the base of his ears and ran your fingers through his hair. For a moment, everything was calm.

And then your fingers hit something wet and sticky in Vere's hair. You looked down at your hand, and your fingers were red. 

Blood.

Shit shit shit shit. Did he actually get injured when he saved you from that soulless? You hastily pushed Vere’s face off your chest and grabbed his chin, roughly tilting it to your line of sight to look for injuries. 

Vere looked shocked for a second, but easily removed your hand from his chin like it was nothing. 

“What exactly was that for?” he questioned, irritation noticeable in his voice.

But you couldn't answer. You could only focus on the fact that he was covered in blood. It was obvious. How the hell did you not even notice until now? The blood didn't really show on his black clothes, but red was splattered on his face and had matted half his hair, making it look wet. Vere did already naturally have a very red pallet, and it wasn't uncommon to see him covered in blood at all. But still, how were you so focused on arguing with him you hadn't even noticed that he was covered in blood?

You could feel a pit of guilt and fear well up inside you. 

“You're injured, I'm getting Kuras” you firmly stated. 

Kuras and Vere may not like each other, but you knew Kuras wouldn't turn away anyone. And if Vere was too proud to ask for help, you'd gladly do it yourself. 

As you stood, you felt a pair of clawed hands wrap around your waist and pull you back down onto the bed. 

You tried to twist around and squirm free, but it was useless. Vere wasn't hurting you, but his grip was firm enough that you wouldn't be able to force your way out. 

“Vere don't be childish, y-”

You heard a sigh from behind you as Vere rested his chin on your shoulder.

“This is your blood, not mine” he mumbled.

Ah. you once again tried to squirm out of Vere's grasp, and this time he released you with another sigh. 

You sat down on the bed properly and faced him. Your blood was everywhere. It splattered across his face and completely coated the right side of his chest. Drip lines of blood ran all the way to his knee on his left side and both his arms were coated in red.

You subconsciously moved to touch your shoulder, it was a little sore and stiff, but other than that fine.

Of course, you then remembered how Kuras had reattached your arm that first day in Eridia. You were on death's door then. So how badly injured had you been tonight? 

You tried to remember the details of your absolute pummeling, but it was mostly a haze. 

Not good, you could imagine. Judging by how much blood was on Vere, and how upset he was, you probably actually were on death's door when he brought you here.

But he had brought you here. Despite his hatred for Kuras, he had forgotten his pride to help you. Damnit, now you really felt bad for arguing with him earlier. 

You shifted in the bed again, this time you rested your head on his shoulder, and he easily adjusted, laying his hands behind your shoulders and lightly drawing circles on your back with his fingers. It tickled a little. 

“Vere” you mumbled into his chest. “I really am sorry.” 

There was a pause before he responded. It felt like a lifetime.

“You're just so vulnerable.” He finally whispered after a few seconds of silence. 

Once again embarrassment welled up inside you for being taken down so easily, but you knew Vere wasn’t trying to tease you about it. 

Besides you, Ais was his closest friend. And no soulless could touch Ais. And everyone else he knew, whether they be allies or enemies, was also strong. Or at least capable. Most of them could have probably defeated the soulless that took you down. It’s not that you were weak, it’s that you were new. You didn’t know this city like they did, and you didn’t have the experience they all had killing creatures like the soulless. You were painfully aware of how much you needed to improve. But now, you were also aware of how uncomfortable this probably was for Vere.

He wasn’t used to having people around him who could just die over "nothing", so you couldn't blame him for reacting poorly. He'd never had to worry over another person's life like he had to do with you. You must have seemed so delicate to him, like a glass sculpture. You could almost understand why he wanted to keep something so fragile under lock and key.

But you weren't made of glass. You were a person. You could evolve. You would get smarter, stronger, more skilled. And you would do just that. Because you didn't want to die in the streets. And you didn't want to upset Vere again. 

You leaned in closer to Vere, catching the scent of lavender on him. It was calming. Grounding. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. 

“Vere,” you mumbled. “Tomorrow, come to my room, I’ll brush your hair as a thank you.” 

“I can’t. The Sinobium has me booked for the day” he replied. 

“That's fine.” you yawned. “I can wait till you get off. For now, I can wash some of the blood off you.”

As you said this, you began to lazily move towards the basin and sponge at the side of the bed.

You could feel Vere hold you a little tighter as you tried to move away. 

He didn't say anything, he didn't need to.

“Oh. the Sinobium wants you to go back to work right now, don't they?” you questioned. 

“Mhm,” Vere responded. “I've pushed their grace limit as it is, staying for this long. But I'll stay for just a little longer. Go to sleep.”

“You won't be here when I wake up?”

“No.” 

“But you will come to see me when you're finished, right?” 

“You'll probably be out working.”

“So wait for me. You don't need a key to get into my room. You made that evident with how much you come in uninvited. You didn't even need to steal my key that day we met.” You insisted.

Vere chuckled lightly at the memory and continued gently tracing circles on your back. 

“Vere?” 

“Mhm?” 

“You will come to see me right? You're not still mad?”

“I'm still mad at you,” he confirmed. “But I’ll be there.” 

Satisfied with that answer, you allowed yourself to finally drift off to sleep. When you woke, it was just you alone in that room. 

You weren't worried though, you knew a certain fox would darken your doorstep very soon.

[kakerutori]

No but holy shit the implications of “I think there is someone he likes, because he has been acting… weird.”

Just imagine El’s confusion over her brother. California is obviously not that great for the Byers. In that very intro scene, we see El making her diorama (which, as sweet and lovely as it is, it ends up getting nothing but ridicule in school), Joyce getting frustrated with a client, Jonathan hurriedly hiding the fact that he’s smoking weed; things are not picture perfect. But Will? Will’s in his own world, in a dreamland of his own, holding to his friends and his life back home by painting it with a focused and tender look in his eyes.

While everyone at home openly struggles with something, our first glimpse of Will this season is something precious and untainted, a struggle that doesn’t develop until much later when he chooses to face his feelings.

We never see Will acting, quote, “weird.” Will has never really been a character that we see out loud. It all lies underneath. It always has. And when I think about that underlying struggle and yet deep fondness, it just. God, it breaks me.

Imagine Will months prior, starting up this project. He picks out a giant canvas, a page that covers his entire easel. Maybe this is his first time using paint as his medium. Maybe not. But whatever the weather, it’s bigger than anything we’ve ever seen him craft. Ever.

Imagine El’s excitement. She learns that Will is a great artist, and she knows it the minute he shows her a single piece. After that, she’s interested in his art, and yet… it’s at the worst time, because he doesn’t let her into his room, anymore. But she knows that he’s working on his easel day in and day out. The minute he’s home from school, he’s playing music, painting again. Maybe he throws out one or two torn-up drafts. Maybe he skips dinner over it. Maybe he ends up so tired that he’s fallen asleep with paint on his face and doesn’t even know it until she points it out.

She’s impressed and she wants to see what he’s doing, especially because he seems so passionate about it all the time, but he never lets her. He bites his lip and shakes his head. He guards it with his very life. And El is left wondering what has him acting so secretive. So nervous. What is the emotion, where is the energy coming from?

It’s out of place. It’s weird when moving to California isn’t as fun as whatever is on that canvas’ face.

So it must be love. Of course it is. Of course it’s for someone, some girl. What else could it be? What else would make Will seem that out of place, seem that… crazy?

And for all of it to be happening upward of six entire months? That painting didn’t take a day or two, I mean, look at it. It must’ve taken him weeks to get in every detail.

And all of it. Every little smile. Every dreaming thought. Every ounce of passion. Everything. Was because of Mike.

God.

God.

[bunny-jpeg]

omg bunny I love love love your writing. my daddy issues especially love your toto and fernando pieces, so I have maybe a biggish order. may I get fudge + eclairs + scones + cinnamon rolls + peanut butter bars + on the house served by fernando alonso?? much love and support <33

bakery menu!

want to suggest your own order? then suggest your own! i'd love to hear what you order! so thank you to those who have suggested their own orders, these have been a lot of fun to write. so thank you! and don't worry anon about the bigger order, i'm glad i can write good content for ya!!!

fudge ("your father is pissing me off.") + eclairs ("the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut.") + scones ("but what if they see us!") + cinnamon rolls ("no one needs to know.") + peanut butter bars(“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”) + on the house (bubble tea: daddy kink) served by fernando alonso

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/40s), stroll!reader, dirty talking/degrading language, daddy issues (!!!)

you remember the first time you were with fernando alonso. you had returned from school in montreal and were two years older than your brother (who was fernando's teammate). he remembered seeing you in the sea of green, you were in bubble gum pink. with lips that looked softer than velvet and dark eyes that pulled fernando in.

"you know i like a man with big shoulders." you giggled as you placed you pretty pink nails on him. you almost stood at eye level with him. and while most girls your age loved much taller men, you liked fernando's closeness to your height.

didn't make him any less of a passionate lover.

the words, "no one needs to know." was the light that set your intimate relationship with frenando ablaze. you didn't see a problem in fucking a man almost double your age and was a teammate of your brother. you were very much an adult.

"ah, daddy!" you yelped when fernando, snapped the back of your panties against your backside. you pouted at him, "you said you weren't going to be mean! this is mean!"

"well, your father is pissing me off." he replied as he placed both hands on your back side and pushed you over further until your hands were almost touching the ground. he liked bending you to his liking. to shape you into a woman worthy of his cock.

you stuck your tongue out to yourself and then yelped when he rubbed his clothed cock against your behind.

"round like a peach and soft like one." he squeezed your hips,

you whined, “scratch me, bite me, just mark me daddy. show them I’m yours.” as much as fernando would love to do that, he'd love to mark your pretty thighs and neck and send you back to your family.

what would poor lance-y think that his older sister for defiled by his teammate, a much older man.

his hands dug into your further and you whined, you could feel the leap in your chest. a shudder went through you as your nipples got hard.

you were near naked save for your cotton candy blue panties with ice cream cones printed on them. ever so sweet, ever so perfect for him. he felt a heat do its rounds through his body.

"daddy." you whimpered.

he rubbed up against your backside even more. his hands planted firm on your softness. you felt like a beautiful dream to him, a ripe fruit ready for the taking. it didn't help that he had sank his teeth into you many times. he replied, "you should so pretty with my title on your tongue." he bent over you and kissed at your neck while he sank two of his fingers into your mouth. you moaned around them and it was painfully hot.

"daddy." you said in a mess around his fingers while he grinded against you. you couldn't get out from under his grasp, but it excited you. it made your chest leap. he held such power of you, a delicious embodiment of your daddy issues!

older man, a little mean, a little rugged, in one of the top sports of the world with money to spare. you didn't need the money (major trust fund baby), but everything else made you excited to get on fernando's cock.

"can't think of anything else?" he asked before he pulled you back upright and against his chest. he groped your breasts and watched you squirm. he was always so rough with you. it wasn't long before you ended up on the bed.

face down, ass up. your panties stripped from you easily before fernando started to undress himself. you were painfully cute, so submissive under him. he could easily take you apart and put you back together.

you pouted against the covers, even wiggling a little to entice him to move a little faster, "i'm not getting any younger!" you whined and then felt a shift on the bed behind you which made your stomach twist up.

"oh no you're not. but that's hard to say by how you act. you are your daddy's little princess. but, when it's just us. you're my dumb little thing. my stupid little whore who doesn't know left from right." he watched you squirm under him.

you whined, "i'm a good girl!"

he chuckled and rubbed against your further, his strong arms wrapped around you middle, "no, no fuck, the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut." he easily got his cock into you and watched you moan loudly.

"please, fernando." you whined as you gripped onto the covers under you. it felt like the man's cock was in your chest as he started to move against you.

"such a stupid little thing." he said, "you're useless to your father with your little degree. but when me, you shine. you love how i take you. how i am mean to you. you're entire life you've been the princess, but now you're mine." he kept his arms around your middle to keep the best pace with his movements.

your noises were loud, thankful that you were at fernando's home. even if he was murdering you, no one would come to your aid. so you could yell your little heart out and beg your daddy to take such good care of you."

you panted against the covers as the pleasure coursed through your body. there was no way to slice this, you were basically owned by fernando. every cell of your body called for him. your hips shifted at the need for the older man grew in your gut.

"see, this is how i know you're made for me. you let me ruin you for every other man on the planet." he moved faster, his pace was almost brutal and it made you run hot all over.

it was painfully hot to be under him, it made your head flood with heat. you whined, "please, daddy! don't be so mean to me!" you arched your back a little bit and felt the throb of pleasure in your skull.

it was a dull throb that reached down to your core and made you run painfully hot.

"no, my princess.' he said as he kissed up your spine and felt your clench around him. a pretty thing like you was always handled like glass, fernando was trying to toughen you up a little. make you less pouty. you brat.

he continued to rut against you with a feverish pace and you only got louder against the covers. you could feel the heat in your body as he fucked you. there was little mercy with his movements. and even when you protested, you loved it.

you whined against the covers as he fucked you. you held on tightly while he worked your pussy. you could feel your organs moved up from the force of his thrust. you arched your back a little more, feeling tension all over you.

"please, daddy." you whined, "i can't take anymore!"

"mm, that's what i like to hear. maybe next time i'll film you and send it to your darling brother." and you gripped tightly from fernando's words. he knew how to get under your skin. you came around his cock and it made everything feel on high alert in the best way possible.

your noises were loud against the covers and fernando encouraged them by slamming into you. his cock hit in all the right places. and he continued to hit against them as he chased his own climax. it was only right for him to let you finish first, but he'll always get his own climax. he held you tighter in his strong arms.

"perfect." he groaned as he pushed his cock all the way inside of you and finish inside of you. he made a big mess of your pussy, cum stuck to your insides and it left you feeling elated. he slowed his pace and ended up resting on top of you.

you laid under him and smiled a little from the weight against you. you got comfortable as fernando eventually got off of you and beside you with an arm draped over your middle.

you were daddy's favourite. even if you weren't your daddy's favourite. <3

[sevynavenue]

ᰔᩚಎ — 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋

— ໒person on da block꒱‎ ‎‎‎‎ichigo kurosaki ೀ you weren't a big fan of rock, but maybe being dragged to a rock concert and after party isn't too bad !

— ໒including package꒱‎ ೀ rockstar! ichigo, ichigo is kind of a mean dom, spanking, degrading (slut, whore, etc...), pet names (baby, pretty, etc...), ichigo is kind of obsessed idk, unprotected sex (wrap for you tap kids), fat dick ichigo, daddy kink, fingering, creampie, implied use of alcohol, hair pulling, spit kink !

You weren’t a big fan of rock music, but your best friend loved it; her favorite band was coming to town, and she was a certified groupie. You didn’t want to leave her there alone, because what kind of best friend would she be to avoid going to the most important moments of her life?

Tee was so excited, she could not even focus on doing her makeup. All she could do was stare at the poster hanging high on her dorm wall as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone, looking at other people's stories. “What’s so good about these guys?” You asked, and Tee almost broke her neck looking back at you.

“THEE ICHIGO KUROSAKI is coming to our town; I have to be there!” She practically screamed at you, shoving her poster in your face. You looked at the poster with the four guys on it and asked, “Is this Ichigo?” 

“Nah, that’s Renji; this is Ichigo” Tee guided your hand to where Ichigo was on the poster. “He is attractive, but what’s the hype?” “You’ll see.” Your best friend smiled as she finished her makeup and turned to look in the full-body mirror. 

“Alright, let’s go. Do you have your ID because they are strict at concerts?” You checked your bag to look for your ID in your purse and nodded to confirm. You and Tee finally took an Uber down to the already-crowded arena. You saw so many girls; some were half-naked, and some looked like they hadn’t slept in days. 

Maybe this was a bigger deal than you thought, but then again, you weren’t too pressed about this concert, but you did have a good time, so why not? You saw Tee fight tooth and nail to get front-row tickets; she saved for months and got you and her a ticket, and not only that, she won backstage tickets, so you had to go.

The concert was deafening, and you felt your body would hurt terribly when you woke up in the morning. Tee even showed her tits; all you could do was laugh and shake your head. But who said they couldn’t have fun either? Even though you didn’t know any of the songs, you still danced and had fun.

Your best friend was dragging you everywhere after the concert was over; she wanted to get backstage so she could bat her eyelashes and you both would be able to go to another artist's after-party. Tee was perfect at getting you both into the after-parties. You weren’t as wild as Tee, but you did love a good hook-up here and there. 

You waited for Tee outside the backstage door; all you could see was the long line of girls bum-rushing to meet the boys. You were so glad that you didn’t want to meet anybody; you were just back there for the food and free drinks they were serving. You saw Tee come running back to you, smirking with a piece of paper in hand. 

“So I’m guessing you were successful?” You smirked.

“Yeah, and I got a little gift too.” Tee pulled her tube top down to see a signature on her right breast, signed by Renji. “Oh, bitch.” You both laughed. “Look, you gotta do what you gotta do.” Tee pulled her top up and shoved the piece of paper in her top.

“I want to go back to our dorm and change; I feel too sweaty,” Tee said while you both got in the Uber. Something about going back to your messy dorm wasn’t something you would be looking forward to. By the time you and Tee changed, it was already past midnight, and you were waiting for another Uber. 

You could hear the music blasting from inside the Airbnb, you saw a lot of people on the lawn, and you could see Tee recording from inside the Uber. You were low-key tired, but you were going to keep pushing. When you got inside, the music was even louder, and your ears were ringing nonstop. 

“MY TYPE OF PARTY!” Tee screamed next to you. Little did you know, when you looked to your side, Tee was gone, and you shook your head. She probably went to go find her bae for the night. But you were sure that she could take care of herself; maybe you’d be able to find her later if she wanted to be found. 

You sat down on the staircase, watching and observing everyone else at the party. You finally found Tee, but she was sitting and flirting with Renji, so you knew you would probably be going back to the dorm by yourself.

“Why sitting over here by yourself” 

You looked up to see a tall, shirtless figure in front of you. When he bent down to get a closer look at you, you noticed that bright ginger hair from anywhere. Ichigo Kurosaki.

“Oh, um, I’m here for moral support; my best friend is here,” you replied. Ichigo smirked, “Yeah, you’re the girl who didn’t look so interested in our concert.”

You opened your mouth, but quickly closed it; you didn’t have a snarky remark to make. Ichigo laughed, “But I guess you're here now. So, I guess you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night since Renji left me too.” Ichigo sat down on the step next to you. 

“So, tell me about yourself; what’s your name, plain girl?”

“Plain? I’m past being plain; maybe your band is plain.” You replied quickly, and Ichigo laughed. “But seriously, what’s your name?” Ichigo asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes. “Y/N,” you replied.

“Y/N? Hm, got a nice ring to it.” You laughed. “Yeah, it has a nice ring to it, right?” Ichigo smiled. “Well, Y/N, it's nice to meet you. I'm Ichigo; can I get you another drink?” You smiled and nodded, “Sure.” Ichigo winked and walked away to get your drink. You watched him as he went, a smile still on your face.

You and Ichigo were practically hip and hip all night; you don’t know if it was the alcohol talking or if Ichigo got more and more attractive as the night progressed. You and Ichigo were pinned up in the corner, lips locked together. Ichigo tongue was so smooth, and his hands were rough, but it felt so right grabbing the fat of your ass. 

You could taste the alcohol and cigarettes in his mouth. It looked like you both were practically having sex in the corner of the party. “Let me take you upstairs and show you plain,” Ichigo smirked as he grabbed your hands to take you up the steps. You both stumbled up the stairs, laughing as you both tried to stay upright. You both finally made it to a room, got inside, and locked the door.

Ichigo pushed you on the bed as you spread your legs, and he got in between, smashing his lips back on yours. His lips were soft and warm as he explored your mouth. His hands roamed your body, exploring your curves and making you feel wanted. You felt your heart beating faster as you felt yourself getting lost in the moment.

Ichigo pushed your skirt up even more to get a glimpse at your red-laced underwear as he smirked back up at you. “You must want to get fucked tonight,” Ichigo smirked, licking your neck. You bit your lip and looked away, embarrassed. Ichigo leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Well, it looks like you're going to have to be a good girl for me, yeah?”

Ichigo pushed your panties to the side to feel your wet slit. “Fuck, you’re such a slut, getting wet from a little kissing, hm?”. Ichigo's fingers moved up and down, teasing your clit. You gasped and moaned; your body shuddered at Ichigo’s breath on your neck. “Please, wan your fingers,” you begged, bucking your hips into Ichigo’s hand.

Ichigo’s grin widened as he inserted a finger into your wet pussy. He slowly slid his finger in and out of your hole, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Your moans grew louder as you felt your hips moving in tandem. 

“Hnngh Ichi! I-I need more.” You whimpered, “Oh? What a greedy little whore you are, when you could barely take one finger.” Ichigo's voice was rough as he spoke, adding another finger stretching you further. You whined out in pleasure, your hand shooting to Ichigo’s wrist in an instant, his fingers never stopping as he pleasured you.

“Move your hand, girl; you got greedy, so swallow your pride and take it.” He growled as he moved his fingers faster. You gasped in pleasure, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. “Mm, yeah, that's a good girl,” Ichigo cooed as he curled his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips. 

“I-Ichiii, ah! gonna cum-” You moaned, and your eyes rolled back as Ichigo continued to tease and pleasure you. You felt your body tense as your orgasm was creeping up on you; it felt like the breath in your lungs was getting stuck. All Ichigo had to do was pinch your clit just a little as you let out a loud cry as your body shook, and you came hard, pleasure radiating through every inch of your body. “That’s it, such a good little slut.” Ichigo took his fingers out to get a taste of your essence. 

“Turn around and get on your stomach.” You obeyed, feeling your heart pounding as Ichigo moved behind you. You can hear the belt cackle and clack as Ichigo pushes his jeans and boxers down, dragging you to the end of the bed. “I’ll be a gentleman and take it slow since y’re so pretty and delicate.” Ichigo grabbed your hips and thrust inside you, pushing in slowly and calculatingly, watching you to see how you would react. 

“Ngh! S-so full, Ichi!” You panted as Ichigo pushed inch by inch, making your cunt flutter and squeeze. Ichigo laughed, his hips bucking against yours as he fucked you hard and steady. “Fuck y’re so tight, f’me baby,” Ichigo sank his fingers into your waist as he started to pick up the pace.

“S’good Ichigo!” You moaned into the sheets, muffling your moans, something Ichigo didn’t like because you felt your head getting yanked up by your hair, your scalp burning a bit as you gasped. 

“Don’t hide your moans from me,” Ichigo hissed, spanking your ass as you cried out from the slight burn on your scalp and ass. “Daddy, fuckkk hah!” You screamed in pleasure as Ichigo pounded into you, your hips buckling up to meet his thrusts. You felt like you were going to explode as Ichigo's movements became faster and more intense. 

“Sh-shit, y’re such a slut fuckin’ back into me like that,” Ichigo groaned, his hand yanking your body up so that your back was touching his chest, his tip hitting your sweet spot easier. “Open yer’ mouth and stick that slutty tongue out for me,” Ichigo whispered in your ear.

You obeyed, your tongue protruding out of your mouth as Ichigo spat in your mouth, “Now swallow it.” You swallowed his saliva with a gasp, and he chuckled. “Fuck, yer such a whore for me,” he said, before pushing you back down on the bed and slapping your ass as his pace quickened. 

“Gonna cummmm” Your voice cracked as you gripped the sheets tighter in your hand, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hips stuttering to meet Ichigo’s rough thrust. “Fuck me too, baby, me too,” Ichigo moaned, his thrust getting sloppy. Ichigo bent over to see your glistening eyes as he bit his lip, he could bust just looking at your pretty face scrunched up just for him. 

“Yesyesyesyes!” You cried out. Ichigo leaned in and gave you a passionate kiss, his hips stuttering and slamming into you and his balls slapping into you uncontrollably. You moaned with pleasure, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you. Ichigo felt you tighten around him, and you came with a loud cry of pleasure. “Fuck, so, so pretty baby,” Ichigo groaned.

“Shit, g’na give the slut just what she wants,” Ichigo panted as he kept thrusting, his orgasm quickly approaching. You whine from overstimulation; you feel Ichigo's body tense as he groans loudly as he comes, his body trembling with pleasure as he releases inside of you. His hips were still moving against you for a few moments to make sure his cum got inside, before pulling out and watching the cum ooze out. 

Ichigo collapsed next to you, exhausted. You lay there for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. “You owe me $50 for a plan B.” You side-eyed Ichigo as he looked back at you and chuckled. “I gotchu ma.” Ichigo slapped your ass once again before sitting up to grab his wallet.

©2024 sevynavenue — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @/sevynavenue

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part Eight

Excerpts from Benjamin Cook's Star Beast Set Visit - discussing the Camden night shoots:

Is nobody here having a bad time?? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM? "I had a little lull earlier," admits David, "at 2AM when we were waiting to turn over- I definitely yawned, maybe twice - but then the blood starts pumping again." Wrap isn't till 3AM. David lives across town. Isn't he worried he'll wake up his family when he gets in? "Listen, the kids are at Davison's," he says (this is Fifth Doctor actor Peter Davison, who happens to be David's father-in-law), "so I'm full of beans. Oh, and sugar. Do you want some?" He's bought a churro from a market stall that's stayed open because it's very much in shot. "You can have more than that." He breaks me off a bigger piece. "The sugar rush will do you good." He offers the director [ Rachel Talalay ] some too: "Go on, Rachel, you deserve it." "Are you doing OK?" she asks him. "Yeah! Sugar! I'll move on to the Yorkie bars next. I give not a fudge at this time in the morning." He claps his hands, dusting off the sugar from his churro. "But are you OK?" "I am at this moment," she says, waving to some fans. "Tomorrow at 4:30AM I might not be. Ask me again then." "You do get a lot of love from the fans, don't you?" says David. "In a tiny way, which is just lovely. I mean, I'm not you," she says, with a laugh. "I love hearing them scream for you. But I'm not used to any of this. And… I think it's stopped raining." "OK, here we go," says Scott. "Let's go for one. Stand by then, folks…" They go for another take. And another. When I catch up with Rachel later – much later, it’s October 2023, and she’s chatting over Zoom from her home in Vancouver – we’re five weeks away from The Star Beast airing on TV. “I didn’t know quite how well the episode was working,” she says, “till my family watched an almost-finished cut. I came downstairs, and my two girls were crying. It was like, oh, OK, this does work! And on a much, much deeper level too. To have them go, ‘We knew it would be full of joy’ – which I think it is – ‘but we didn’t expect it to be so emotional,’ that was very satisfying. It was an emotional time all round.” It was. In more ways than one. Which is something that Rachel wants to talk about – here in DWM – for the first time publicly. “I think I can now,” she says, “because I’m close to two years in remission. I will be this month. Two years in remission. And Doctor Who really helped heal me. Directing Doctor Who while I was only a couple of months post-chemo.” A deep breath. “I had lymphoma,” she explains. “I’d been in chemo for seven or eight months. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive. Then I was offered The Star Beast. I thought, I’ve got to do this. I didn’t tell anybody I was sick. I hadn’t told anybody except very close family. And I didn’t tell anyone on Doctor Who till I was there long enough to say, ‘Look, I’m well enough, so I don’t want you worried about me.’ Because, frankly, I don’t know that they’d have wanted to hire someone who might not have made it through the shoot. I totally get that. That’s fair enough. [...] “I could not have been surrounded by a more supportive crew,” says Rachel. “The best crew in the world. When I realised, it’s all night shoots, I thought, oh god, and I’m two months post-chemo. But that crew – David especially – made those night shoots so fun. It’s weird now, because I look back at the pictures – like that lovely one of me and David you published last issue – and that was my chemo hair. I was just getting my hair back. But I got healthier and healthier, stronger and stronger, as the shoot went on. When I got back to Canada, the doctor said, ‘You’re a poster child for how well someone can do after chemo. This is what people are capable of.’ “But it’s just what you do,” she reflects, “isn’t it? – when you love Doctor Who in your heart so much. There was no better place for me than Doctor Who.”

Additional parts of this set are in the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[girlboytroylougferd]

Honey, do you need a hot meal?

Troy is hungry. Lint is the meal.

trigger warnings for cannibalism and gore

hey guys..... i wrote this little thing in one day..... btw.... llintroller save meee... title is from Your body, My Temple by Will Wood

Troy and Lint are standing in In the middle of the living room. Lint has just told her that he wanted him to eat them. Not even that he could, but that he wanted her to.

And Troy can't deny, the idea is appealing. She thought maybe this was just some sick joke, Lint can be a little strange at times, but no. Lint is entirely serious. And Troy wants to eat.

Lint must be a genius, Troy thinks to herself. She doesn’t know what he wants to say in this moment, but she knows more than anything what he wants to do. What he needs to do.

“Dude, are you sure? Cause like, you could die, man…” Troy’s desire doesn’t mean he won’t hesitate. This is his best friend, after all.

“Your dad turns people into clocks, doesn’t he?”

She lunges towards them, straight for his cheek. He bites down and tears a bit of flesh away, and it’s even better than she could have imagined. She can’t even describe it. It’s just the kind of taste that you savor for as long as you can, especially when it’s someone as important to you as Lint is to Troy.

Troy sees Lint’s face before going in for another bite, this time the flesh of their neck. He looks shocked, maybe he expected her to say something before going in for a taste, but that doesn’t stop a small grin from appearing on their face.

And Troy just continues to tear away from Lint, bit by bit, piece by piece. He feels like an animal, but can she really help it? This is Lint. This is her best friend and he tastes so good.

This might just be the best thing he’s ever tasted. Lint isn’t just good, he’s perfect. The blood in Troy’s mouth is warm and the metallic taste makes him want more. He can’t stop, and surely Lint won’t survive much more of this. Troy knows that.

And yet, his tongue begs for more of that wonderful flavor. He can’t stop.

She loves Lint. In this moment, right now, she loves Lint more than ever before. Maybe it’s because Lint is all there is right now, or maybe he just likes the way they taste as she rips chunks of flesh away from their body. Either way, he loves Lint so very much. And they say actions speak louder than words, don’t they?

She barely even gives herself time to chew, he just keeps on taking more and more, relishing in it. The texture, the flavor, it’s all perfect to Troy. There isn’t a world where Lint isn’t perfect. Not in Troy’s eyes.

Tears fall down Lint’s face, he feels his life fading away from them, but this is Troy and this is all they’d ever dreamed of. They can’t think of a better way to go out. He wonders if Troy even notices that they’re dying, or if she’s too busy tearing him apart.

Eventually, Troy finishes his meal, but Lint is long gone by then. She doesn’t know when it happened. It’s hard for her to think about anything else, part of him wants more, but he knows it’s time to put them away. Maybe next time she’ll try a bit of cooking.

Should Troy feel bad? He just ate her best friend, after all. But no, Troy doesn’t feel anything but love for them. The consequences of her actions haven’t hit him yet, so why should it matter?

Lint, what’s left of them, barely fits in the freezer. Troy needs to go out and buy a bigger one. And some ice. She figures she should clean up first, though. He washes the blood from her hair and skin, gets a different outfit, wonders if the stains will ever leave that shirt, and he’d be on his way if he didn’t hear a quiet voice behind her. It has that bug-like quality to it, like someone Troy knows; knew. Lint.

“Did I taste good?”

--

ERM!!! END NOTES I GUESS??????

i have never ever written anything like this and MAN it was fun.

lint is a freaking ghost now by the way because i have so many Thoughts about ghost lint and clockwork lint......... may write more in the future too. just like about ghost lint/clockwork lint sometimes and troy shenanigans

i hope you had fun reading this. hope it was a hit for the lintroller nation

[always-andromeda]

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ໒꒱‧₊˚

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 5064

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ It's Emmy night. And your infamous ex-boyfriend is stirring up all kinds of trouble for you.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hi ho, everyone!! This piece is for Gin's ( @wannab-urs ) Dom That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2025!! I'm cutting it incredibly close but I actually ended up having a lot of fun with this one. It started as a smaller oneshot but quickly grew bigger and bigger until hey, whaddya know, Roman Roy is making a little cameo. Blame @strang3lov3 for that lol. Her writing for Roman has made that brain rot really settle in and I needed an asshole boyfriend for this one soooo uhhhh yeah. He is in there!! Anyhoo, here is the full masterlist for the event!! Hope y'all enjoy!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), minimally edited lol, a tiny bit of angst, no reader description given aside from reader wearing makeup and being able-bodied, one minor suicide joke, toxic relationships, shaky descriptions of the goings on of award shows (sorry, I do not keep up with them well enough to know everything <3), mentions of addiction, infidelity (reader is in a PR relationship, shoutout to Roman Roy lmao), oral, heavy mommy kink lol, pegging, some fluffy aftercare, reader is a fucking mess, dieter is a fucking mess, it's all chaos, nothing else I can think of but feel free to let me know if anything else should be added!!

“Sure you’re going to be ready in time?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Roman pops his head into the hotel bathroom. “I dunno, isn’t that a woman thing?”

“It is if you’re a misogynist.” You say before blotting your lipstick.

“Or a realist. Veeeery fine line, babe.”

You roll your eyes. Part of you wishes Roman had never been nominated.

Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama.

When you were younger, awards shows always seemed so exciting and glamorous. Sometimes they still are. But as you built up your career and were invited to more of them you had come to realize that they were little more than glorified circle jerks. Sadly, being Roman Roy’s costar and girlfriend obligated you to attend.

You wish your publicist had booked a separate room for you so Roman wouldn’t wind you up. At this point though, you were counting the days until you no longer had to be joined at the hip. Once awards season was over you could move on from this chapter of life. Maybe you’d hide away for a while. The thought keeps you from going completely insane.

The car ride to the theater is quiet. Roman scrolls through his mentions on Twitter the whole way. A few times you assure him that it’ll be alright, that he worked so hard that he’s sure to win. None of that reassurance matters.

He’s been glued to his phone since the nominations dropped. For almost two whole months it’s been a shitshow. One minute he’s stressing about what he should say for his acceptance speech and the next he doesn’t give a shit. A few times he floated the idea of skipping the event altogether. That usually only happened when the D word came into the conversation.

Dieter fucking Bravo as Roman liked to call him.

Roman hates a lot of things. But god, he really hates Dieter. Roman’s young. He’s talented. And Dieter is…well…Dieter.

“How the fuck did that washed up prick get a nom? Asshole finally managed to find someone in the academy desperate enough to fuck him.” Roman said when he first learned that he’d be competing with Dieter. You’d ignored the pointed insult in that outburst. It wasn’t the comparison of talent or rap sheets that heated Roman up so much as the fact that you and Dieter weren’t strangers. Before he turned it all to shit, you and Dieter had dated for one tumultuous year.

Roman cares for you about as much as you care for him, that much you’re sure of. It’s the optics that bother him. It’s the fact that for almost two months, almost every Twitter user talking about him makes the assumption that Roman Roy is just a stepping stone. That you’d soaked up every bit of clout dating Dieter Bravo could give you. And that now you’d jumped to the next big thing in line.

While some folks called you a slut and a number of other awful names, some raised you to the status of feminist icon.

“‘Sucking and fucking her way through the Emmy nominees.’” Roman read to you one night in disgust. “”What a girlboss.’ Are you seeing this shit? They’re saying you’re probably going after Jeff Bridges next. You better not fuck Jeff Bridges. If you fuck Jeff Bridges, I’ll fucking hang myself.”

You try not to care too much. If being with Dieter had taught you anything it was that the media thrived off of acknowledgement. If you responded to the accusations, every outlet would release an article about it. And then another one about the backlash. And then another one about the backlash to the backlash. Then they’d roll shitty banner ads over the whole thing and call it journalism.

Not even you, yourself, gave that much of a shit about your own sex life. You’d much rather mind your own business than feed into their interest, thank you very much. 

It’s why you couldn’t wait to get the carpet walk over and done with. It’s the closest thing to a goddamn parade and Roman’s desire to cut your prep time short has you feeling less than your best.

You’re in your own head, watching Roman get his picture taken by the paparazzi flash mob, and dreading your turn to join in when you’re rudely interrupted.

“He looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

You almost agree until you turn to look at who had just spoken to you.

Dieter fucking Bravo. And he looks fucking gorgeous.

You can hardly remember the last time he looked so put together. His wavy hair is gelled back, accentuating the stray silvers that he finally seems to be letting grow out. He wears a white shirt that’s buttoned up to the neck. The solid white collar is framed by a black sweater. And for once he’s not wearing pants that are too tight or too baggy; these ones are just right. The look is simple but graceful, perfect for a star settling into middle age. If things were different, you’d kiss his stylist with tongue and maybe give them a handjob for blessing you with such a glorious sight. Pressing your nails into the palms of your hands, there are a number of things you think to say.

What are you doing here? How dare you? What the fuck is wrong with you?

But none of them sound right. None are befitting of such a glamorous night either.

So you settle for replying coldly, “Are you not?”

Dieter snorts and you melt upon seeing the crinkles by his eyes in full force. “Are you kidding? I’m shocked they even invited me. Who’s dying to wheel out the washed up old guys for shit like this?”

“Thank god we’re in Hollywood; the mecca for washed up old men,” you scoff.

If Dieter acknowledges the joke, you don’t hear or see it. Your eyes are glued to Roman, afraid that if you look back at Dieter again they might just pop out of your head.

Roman 

Out of the blue he asks, “He isn’t even nice to you, is he?”

It’s a question that makes you scoff and roll your eyes. How dare he? He goes away for a few months and after two years of image fixing he thinks he has any right to ask that? The old urge to swing around and give him a piece of your mind strikes you again. As the cameras flash, you become very aware that even at your place at the periphery of the carpet, a snapshot of you arguing with your ex would make a great TMZ article.

You mumble, “What he is is none of your business.”

“I was nice to you,” Dieter says, then repeats to himself, “I was nice.”

You retort with a laugh, “When you weren’t high off your ass.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t either.”

Like you need to be reminded of how hellish it was trying to be with him and subsequently get over him. You remember taking old gifts he’d given you to the secondhand store. You remember deleting almost every trace of him from your phone. You remember the nights you struggled to stop yourself from making contact again. It had been a long, uphill battle to wash away the single most chaotic year of your life and you weren’t sliding down it again.

“We’re not having this conversation again. I hated myself when I was with you. And I’m not going back to that place. I’ve worked too hard for you to come crashing in and ruining that.” You say it more to yourself than him. 

With that, you’re ushered over to Roman where you pose with him. And you almost manage to give a genuine smile to the masses.

When you’re finally seated in the theater, the night rolls on with the typical fanfare. You give your prescribed reactions; cheer when your show is called for an award and smile when you notice a camera near you. A few times Roman leans over to mumble some snotty joke about whoever’s on stage and that deep, cynical part of you manages to laugh at them.

At the very least, it makes him less nervous. That’s how you justify it to yourself.

He’s in the middle of another wisecrack when the woman at the microphone pulls Roman’s attention away. “I’m proud to announce the nominees for Lead Actor In A Drama Series.”

You don’t bother watching the giant screen as clips of the nominees play. You already know damn good and well who’s up on the platter for this one. Instead, much to your dismay, your gaze is trained on Dieter. 

He’s a row ahead of you and about a dozen seats to the right so you only get a sliver of his profile. From the bits and pieces you get of his bobbing head, his jaw looks tense. In the silence that precedes the announcement you notice just how age has settled upon Dieter. With his hair a little longer and head held high he looks just like the man you once saw within him. It suits him well.

“And the Emmy goes to…”

Some small piece of you peers out from the shadows of cynicism and your lips curl into a soft smile. As uncomfortable as he seemed to be amongst this crowd, Dieter finally looked well; he looked hopeful.

“Roman Roy!”

Turning back towards Roman you expect a kiss, a squeeze of your hand, some sort of acknowledgement that you’re right there beside him. Anything. But he’s standing and walking towards the stage before you can even say a word.

Normally you treasure your alone time. This time though, the empty air truly feels depressing.

Part of you wishes Roman had come back to the hotel with you. But another part of you is grateful you won’t have to listen to his gloating. Or his “celebration”, as he called it. 

You can’t stop replaying the moment over and over again. The way your breath seemed stuck in your throat as you watched him deliver his bullshit acceptance speech. He shed a genuine tear when thanking his mother; you’d known him long enough to recognize his shreds of sincerity.

For the most part, however, he’s performing. After all, that’s what got him the award to begin with.

Knowing that there’s a camera capturing your reaction you plaster on a toothy grin. While Roman plays the part of the humble award winner, you play the proud girlfriend though you feel more like a prop than his costar.

None of it matters either way. At the end of the night, you knew that Roman’s speech would be clipped and reposted thousands of times online. Maybe then he’d get the validation he seems to have been craving his entire life.

That’s why he decided to stay at the afterparty, you figured. Maybe it’s also why you were already seeing clips of him at said afterparty proclaiming with a smug grin, “Suck it, Bravo.” Validation from his peers. The why of it all didn’t matter either. You’d had enough of pathologizing the men around you for one night. 

Well. Almost enough.

The thought of Roman’s absence departs and Dieter’s presence worms its way back into your mind.

You’d never had a proper sendoff for your relationship with him. Instead you got stood up on a night he was supposed to meet you for dinner. That night you vowed you would no longer drag him out from a drug induced haze. You went nuclear; blocked him, stopped going to his house, revoked his access to your apartment building.

Through the grapevine you heard that he’d finally crashed out a few months afterwards and got shipped off to rehab. Then from there it was close to silence. The post-Dieter life was calm, if a bit predictable.

You pick up your phone from the nightstand and go through your blocked contacts until you find his name. And after nearly two years of being Dieter free you invite him right back into your life.

You half expect the message to go ignored. He might not even have the same number anymore anyways. Right as you’re about to block him again out of pure embarrassment, you see those three telltale dots pop up on the left side of the screen. They ripple for a few seconds before a reply appears.

If he were in front of you, you would’ve rolled your eyes. You quickly type out a response.

You can practically hear the shock Dieter must’ve experienced in how the message stays read for a solid two minutes before he answers again.

Of course, you wanted to scream. I missed you so bad that I binged the entire series and then looked up fanfiction of your character afterwards.

Just like before, the message stays read for a few minutes. But this time the typing dots on his end disappear and come back a few times. You end up laying your phone facedown on the bed so you wouldn’t throw it across the room. Eventually your ringtone chimes and you pick it up again.

Your stomach drops about a thousand miles down an awful pit of guilt until your memory slows it down. As much as his big brown eyes might suggest it, Dieter isn’t some helpless puppy dog. How many times had he fucked you over before? How many times did he force you to take care of his messes? And how many times did you grin and bear it because you loved him? Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was the need for some sort of closure. Or maybe it was the fact that you weren’t going to go through another night ignored and alone. But you impulsively type and send another message.

And much to your surprise, Dieter replies immediately.

From the second you pull Dieter into your hotel room you feel alive again. His lips are against yours and your stomach soars at the way he lets you deprive him of oxygen. You missed him more than you had even fathomed. You missed his eagerness. You missed the way his hands went straight to your ass. You missed his tongue. God, you could suck on his tongue right then and there and die happy.

The muffled groan he lets out when you tug on his hair reminds you the hotel room door is still partially opened. It hits you for a split second that someone easily could’ve followed him here. By morning the media could be all over whatever happens in this room tonight.

Dieter pulls away for air. As he cups your cheek and gives you that classic mischievous smirk he says, “Hi there.”

And suddenly…you don’t give a shit. Not about Roman or the media or your publicist. You’ll deal with the consequences later. Probably. But for now, it’s all Dieter fucking Bravo. And for once, that was a good thing.

Breathlessly, you command, “Get on the bed. Now.”

Dieter hadn’t felt this antsy since his last stint in rehab. With the way he was practically crawling under his skin he was surprised he made it to your hotel in one piece.

It would’ve been quite a headline if he had. Oscar Winner, Dieter Bravo, Dead at 45 After Losing Emmy. If only those leeches could see him now. The headline would probably read Oscar Winner, Dieter Bravo, Naked and Ass Up On Ex-Girlfriend’s Bed.

It hits him that he has no idea where your boyfriend is. For all he knows this is some sick joke you and him devised just so you could kick him while he’s down. Did you still despise him that much? Taking a mental inventory of everything he did when you were together…it was a possibility.

You didn’t even ask if he was busy. For all you know, he could’ve been out drowning his disappointment with as many prescription pills he could get his hands on. That’s what the old Dieter would’ve done. Old Dieter would have answered your texts between lines in the bathroom before speeding to your hotel room. New Dieter was watching reruns of X-Files in his bathrobe when you rang. Yet he still came running anyway.

He realizes that he probably always would.

Dieter’s swirling mind is soothed by your lips leaving kisses along his shoulder blades. Your fingers dance down his spine, creating waves of shivers in their wake. He stifles a contented hum. Can’t show his cards yet; can’t let you know that he’s just as pliable as he used to be for you.

He suspects you know it anyways when you purr, “You remember your place so well.”

Quiet. He stays so quiet he can hear a pin drop. Hell, he can practically hear your lips twitch as you observe him.

As he got older, Dieter found less and less joy in being watched all the time. Those greedy eyes only see him as prey. And tonight was another one of those reminders that no matter how much he tried he’d never again be the promising young actor the world had once adored.

But you liked him. You saw him for exactly what he was and you liked him. Even more, you rewarded him.

“Do you want to be good for me?” You ask tentatively.

He’s heard you say similar things more than a hundred times. Now they sound less like an invitation and more like a test. You’re testing the waters. As if him being naked on your bed wasn’t enough confirmation that he wanted you. Then again, you’ve always been that forgiving; always given him second, third, and fourth chances.

He lifts his head just enough so you can hear him clearly when he confirms, “Yes, please.”

With that, the weight of your body over his is gone. When you order him to flip over a minute later you stand before him with a familiar instrument. Judging by the size and color, he knows it isn’t the same strap you used to use on him, but it’s a welcome sight nonetheless. It’s a soft pink color with ridges that shine in the warm lamplight. He guesses that it’s likely between six and seven inches. But it’s the subtle curve of the cock that has his mouth practically watering just looking at it. Already he can’t help but imagine it inside him, reaching that spot only you were able to.

“You’re lucky I happened to pick this up the other day. Otherwise you would’ve been stuck with my fingers.” You say with a pout.

Dieter thinks for a second that you’ve got an odd idea of what qualifies as a souvenir but brushes the thought away. He blinks hard and swallows thickly. “I would’ve been fine with that,” he mumbles.

You climb back onto the bed and settle between his legs. Then you inch forward so close that he could kiss you again. Your breath is warm on his face when you whisper, “Bullshit.”

You plant a kiss on his cheek before continuing slowly, “Don’t think I forgot how much you love getting stuffed to the brim. You used to love sucking on my cock before I fucked that perfect ass of yours. Do you want that again, baby?”

He nods quickly.

“Then sit up a bit for me.”

Dieter does as he’s told and you straddle his chest. His hands find purchase around the soft flesh of your thighs. You shake your hips and the dick wobbles ever so slightly. The bulbous tip teases his lips.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“So fucking pretty…” he breathes.

Stifling the urge to take it all at once, he settles with some experimental licks. His tongue runs down the ridges along the underside. It’s firm but not rock solid; it feels almost like the real thing. A shudder runs through him imagining the thing inside him. He feels his own cock twitch.

“C’mon, you can do better than that. Get me all wet, baby,” you encourage.

Dieter’s lips part tentatively, allowing you to shift your hips forward and nudge your cock in. You moan as if you can feel the relief of his warm mouth around you. Something in his stomach fizzles at the thought of you getting off on watching him be like this.

“That’s it, take it…take it…” 

He looks up, wide-eyed, and sees you gazing back with similarly entranced eyes. Your chest heaves gently as you breathe, drinking in the picture of him beneath you with your cock almost halfway in his mouth.

Dieter ventures further, pushing your hips towards him, allowing him to take another inch. You take that as a sign to slowly start thrusting.

“Good boy,” your voice is velvet as you fuck his mouth. You set a reverent, rolling rhythm, trying not to overwhelm him with the length. Despite the normally submissive position, he feels held, loved, though he tries not to get his hopes up.

He remembers this all too well; the sway of your hips and the small sighs you let out. Judging by those sounds, he guesses that you’re probably a mess yourself. His vivid imagination pictures the slick folds between your legs just begging to be squeezing him. God, how he used to make you whine and sob. But you could make him do the exact same.

“Think it’s as wet as it’ll get, huh?”

His agreement is muffled by the instrument itself and you giggle before removing it from him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

He folds and spreads his legs instinctively, though from a combination of age and lack of practice, the movement is a little strained. To ease his muscles he plants his feet on the mattress and grasps the sheets in his balled fists. In other words, he’s prepared to hold on for dear life if need be.

The seductive tone in your voice turns a bit more serious. “I’m gonna start slow. And if it hurts or you want to stop at all, you better let me know, okay?”

Dieter nods.

“Hey, I’m not playing around. I don’t want to hurt you. I need to hear you acknowledge that if this is too much you’ll tell me. Alright?”

This time he clears his throat, looks you dead in the eye, and responds, “I will. I promise. I trust you.”

You let out a shuddering breath. And it makes him realize that even with the confident demeanor, you’re likely nervous too. It strikes him that you probably haven’t done this in a while either. It makes sense that Roman wasn’t brave enough to take a cock like yours. Lucky for him, Dieter was all too willing to take the bullet in this instance. Suck it, Roy.

You prod at his hole with your tip, dipping it in and out about an inch to test the waters. As relaxed as Dieter is, he knows he’s out of practice. Fucking himself after you left had always felt a bit awkward. He desired the connection more than the feeling; your low voice coaxing him along the path to pleasure and cradling him in your arms when the journey was done. Doing it to himself always left him feeling a little emptier than before so he tended to avoid it.

Though it’s slimmer than the ones he was used to you using, it still takes a minute for him to become acquainted with the fullness of your cock again while you start to slide further in. There’s never really been anyone else he’s trusted without fear that they’d run to their social media with all the details.

You’re the only one who knows just how he likes it. With a few slow, deep thrusts you know exactly how to draw a few sharp gasps from him. You know it’ll make him whine when you dig your fingers into his hips and praise, “You take my cock so well, baby.” 

Once the stretch of you feels a bit more tolerable he gurgles something akin to encouragement.

“You’re just aching for my cock aren’t ya’, sweetheart?” you tease, your confidence slowly returning.

“Pleas– please fuck me,” he moans.

“What’s my name?”

That’s the easiest question of them all. “Mommy,” Dieter blurts, “Please, mommy.”

The name seems to activate you, 

“C’mon,” you pant, “I want the neighbors to hear how good you’re getting fucked. Let them hear you, baby.”

He has no trouble with that. If there is indeed someone in the room next door, he knows that they’re getting the performance of their fucking lives. Strings of his incoherent babble paired with the bang of the headboard against the wall. 

“You wanna touch yourself now? Can mommy see you touch that pretty cock of yours, huh?”

Without another word, Dieter’s hand flies to his neglected dick. Even the slightest bit of pressure from his fist around the base nearly makes him sob. He’s so desperate to relieve the throbbing need in his belly that he begins pumping at an almost brutal pace. Mere seconds before he feels like the cord is about to break, you lay your own hand over his and stop him abruptly.

He lets out a sharp breath through his nose in defiance and is about to protest when you chide,  “Ah, don’t get greedy, baby. Go nice and slow so mommy can really watch you.” You let go of him and continue, “It’s been so long since mommy has seen you come hard. And we’re going to make that happen, we have to be patient. Can you do that? Be patient for mommy?”

He nods feverishly.

“Say it.”

“Yes, mommy.”

Dieter tries his best to pace himself. He tries to time each drag of his fist with the drag of your cock inside of him. His body sways with the movement and if he didn’t feel so on edge, he thinks he could probably fall asleep like this; being fucked into oblivion by you.

He can’t even remember the last time he’d felt so warm and wet and safe. Probably since the last time you were on top of him.

His lidded eyes meet your expression. A few drops of sweat have formed on your forehead. You bite your bottom lip and you stare down at where your cock disappears inside of him. True to your word, you watch him slowly milk his own cock. And he swears that between small grunts he can hear you moan softly.

A bit of pride bubbles in Dieter’s chest knowing that you still crave this the same way he does. You’re just as fucked as he is; just as far gone. And he finds himself starting to slip farther and farther down the pit too.

“F-fu-u-ck– I’m so fucking…sofuckingclose–” he pants. That familiar rush of pleasure in his abdomen threatens to spill over. He knows he’s only got a few seconds until he lets go entirely. He doesn’t wait to be told to ask first. He begs, “Please, please, please, let me cum…holy fuck–”

You’re breathing so hard and so focused on hitting him just right that it takes a moment for you to gather yourself enough to respond. But you do. And Dieter is on the brink of sobbing when you whine, “Go ahead, baby. Make a fucking mess of yourself.”

Those words are the green light for him to fuck his fist a little faster, urging forward that long awaited release. Dieter’s back arches. And with your cock still sliding in and out of him, the slightly altered path makes him see the fucking heavens. God bless the Emmys. God bless the Television Academy. God bless Roman Roy. God bless whoever invented that beautiful, curved, pink cock. And God bless you, his favorite angel, for fucking him onto paradise’s doorstep with it.

Ropes of his thick spend shoot across his stomach. As your thrusts and his movements slow, each spurt begins to slowly spill over his fist. He milks every last drop of cum that he can from his softening cock; you wanted a mess, after all.

Dieter groans when you eventually pull out of him. Closing his heavy eyes, he allows himself to feel just how completely spent he is. Every one of his limbs are jelly. Exhausted but contented jelly.

Soon afterwards you pad away to the bathroom, likely going to retrieve a towel and straighten yourself up a little. When you return and begin to clean up the last hour’s work, he can’t help but notice your expression.

Your jaw is slackened and soft. You part your lips as if in pride at the result of this impulsive act. Though you’d been firm before, you were still so gentle with him. Your melodious hum fills the room with a comforting atmosphere. He missed this. He missed you.

When you both finally settled in bed, it felt as though little time had passed between this tryst and the last. There’s a comfortable silence as you brush a few strands of his hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear. Your hand lingers for a moment on the side of his head. You hum and press your lips to his for a soft kiss.

Amongst the tangle of limbs, one of his legs is nestled between yours. For a second he wonders if you two hadn’t cleaned up as well as you thought until it hits him that the wetness on his thigh is from you.

He breaks away with urgency and you give him a confused expression. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to-? I think I can get hard again. Just give me a minute to-”

You sigh and hold him, keeping him still. “Dee, it’s okay. You don’t need to do anything.”

“Are you sure? I can go down on you if you want.”

“Hey, what did I say about being greedy, huh?” You laugh. “I’m too tired anyways.”

Dieter’s heart sinks until you continue, “We can do that tomorrow. Before breakfast? How’s that sound?”

He pulls you closer to his chest and chuckles, “I can do that.”

“You sure can pencil that into the schedule?” You tease.

“Oh, I’m not missing that appointment. Trust me.” With a hard swallow he admits, “Been waiting for that opening for a long time.”

Your voice reverberates against his ribcage when you reply, “Me too, Dee. Me too.”

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