#WORLD RECORD TIME BABY (STILL WAY TOO LONG)

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟷........... THE STRONGEST ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: its midday and your clingy-ass boyfriend—gojo satoru—should be hard at work right getting rid of these doppels not knocking at your door—gotta be a fake... right?! classifications: bimbo!reader (canonverse of otaku!gojo's bunny!reader), yandere-esque Gojo, nipple play, recorded sex, lots of sex toys, dirty talk, panty theft, extreme overstim + slight omorashi. incidents: 4.4k .......shout outs to @yung-notorious for beta-ing some of this!

*knock-knock-knock-knock-knock*

Rapid, insistent knocks interrupt your laughter as you chat with friends, carefully brushing a fresh coat of polish onto your toes. You weren’t expecting anyone, but the familiar, overly enthusiastic rhythm—knocking out the tune of Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up"—leaves no doubt who it is.

Satoru.

You sigh.

Although you haven’t seen Gojo much lately and are usually happy to see him, his timing this time irritates you for a couple reasons—first, of course he’d interrupt right in the middle of your much-needed girl time! You were desperate to hang with your friends again, especially after being stuck in lockdown for the last 2 weeks.

There was some juicy tea getting spilled on the call too! 

More importantly, you weren't in a hurry to get up from the sofa—especially with your freshly painted white toes you’d propped up on the coffee table to dry. The last thing you wanted was to ruin them by getting dust on them while answering the door when Gojo wasn’t even supposed to be here right now.

“BBL, y’all.”

Reluctantly ending the call, you switched over to your Ring camera app. 

Sure enough, the security feed loads to reveal Gojo, grinning up at the camera with his glasses perched on the brim of his nose and a large pink shopping bag in hand.

Huh? There’s no way he’s off-work already! 

Taking note of the time it reads 1:30 p.m. confirming that Jujutsu society’s strongest sorcerer is skipping out on work, again—pshh typical. 

“C’mon babe, let me in!”

Urgh, what was he even doing here?! 

Shouldn’t he be the one leading the charge to kill all the doppelgängers? The faster he exorcized them, the sooner you’d finally be able to go outside again.

This doppelgänger outbreak felt like covid quarantine all over and it sucked! 

Satoru needed to get his ass back to work so you wouldn’t waste the best years of your life cooped up inside!

“Go away, doppelgänger!”

You use the intercom feature to speak to Gojo, still not budging from the sofa.

Gojo pouts.

“But it's me, baby! Open the door Bunny bae, please I missed you princess—it’s been too long!”

Satoru’s annoyingly pretty baby blues look even bigger as he pleads into the camera, his lip quivering, making you roll your eyes.

It’s barely been 48 hrs since you’ve last seen him and he still blows up your texts all day! 

But the world’s strongest sorcerer was also the world’s clingiest—so you suppose his doppelgänger would be too. Although, you were pretty sure this was the real deal, that still didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him shit for skipping out on work.

“Huh, that’s funny because there's no way you could be my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, the strongest—and the one who is supposed to be making sure I’m not stuck in the house for another 2 years. It’s been freaking 2 weeks already Toru, I’m going batshit in here!”

Pushing his glasses back in place Gojo hides his scoff, standing up straight. 

Shit.

He hopes you aren’t onto him. 

Sure, he could have contained this whole thing in a few days tops.

Despite the doppelgänger ability to mimic appearances and cursed energy patterns, Gojo’s Six Eyes could see right through it easily. His power allowed him to perceive the core of a soul with perfect clarity, instantly distinguishing the souls of a human and a curse.

But instead of resolving the problem quickly, Gojo made up all kinds of excuses to you (and especially to the higher-ups) about why it was taking longer than expected. 

The truth was, simple though—for once, just this once, he decided he had earned the right to be selfish.

Not having met you until after the covid quarantine, Gojo had never experienced that kind of isolation with you—and was immensely jealous that your last boyfriend had. Now that he had a taste of it, there was nothing he wanted more than to keep his lil bun-bun safely caged up, waiting for his return everyday (and he did try to make it back everyday).

Okay, so he is in fact being really selfish.

Luckily for everyone else though, most of these doppelgänger  curses are relatively harmless other than causing absolute chaos with their mere existence alone—unfortunately they could also be seen by people even lacking cursed energy.

Gojo took care of the stronger ones, the ones with more nefarious intentions, while letting the little ones continue to run loose—all so he could have you to himself. 

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo is intentionally sentencing you to what seems like a never ending cycle of boredom so that when he finally gets home you cling to him like a grain of sweet sticky rice. So eager for any external stimuli or interaction you’d be up for all manner of his perversions you’d normally shoot him down for.

That didn’t mean you weren’t still a brat though, making him work for it—something that Gojo also noted was his fault though for spoiling you rotten, not being able to deny you anything. So you pretend to be annoyed when he showed up, but Gojo knew the truth—those thick thighs of yours would soon have your slick running down. Your cute, slutty lil pussy dripping would start dripping the moment you’d hear his voice.

Yeah, yeah, he’d get rid of those things eventually—but Gojo was going to enjoy this quarantine with you for a bit longer. 

“Even the strongest need a break baby! I need my sweet lil’ energizer Bunny to recharge my batteries, eh?”

You crinkle up your nose seeing him wiggle his eyebrows on camera. 

He's such a dorky cornball.

“And this break…it’s approved by Yaga, hm?” Gojo whines at your questioning, not wanting you to deny him any longer nor throw technicalities in his face he didn’t wanna have to answer.

“Come on, Bunny! I even brought you real nice gifts to show you how much I missed you!”

The hot pink shopping bag sways in front of the camera, Gojo dangling it as if it were supposed to be a tempting treat. 

But he’d have to do better than some generic pink shopping bag to impress you!

You’ve gone back to your toenails, starting to apply the top coat while you let him squirm out there for a while longer. You knew he could break the barrier in the blink of an eye but you also knew that he was a big enough baby to want you to let him in on your own. 

Well tough luck brah.

“That sure doesn’t look like a Chanel shopping bag, Toru!”

“Um, that’s cause it’s not—Bunny you told me you don’t even like me picking you out clothes anymore!”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes—of course you said that as whenever Gojo picked something out for you, it ended up being the most scandalous or over-the-top piece in the store. How he would even managed that at a classy brand like Chanel, you had no idea. (Though, little do you know, in reality, he always acted they were ready-to-wear while they were custom-made—just for you.)

“I got us some toys, baby bun! Don’t you wanna play with me?”

You don’t need to ask him ‘what kind of toys’ from the goofy ass expression that is on his face. 

“That’s not making me want to let you in at all, Doru!”  

“Hah? Wha—Doru!?”

“Yeah, short for Dopple-Toru.”

You try to keep a straight face but can’t help giggling as you sneak a peek at your phone, still putting on as if you're completely ignoring him. His expression on the camera is priceless though and you wish you could snap a screenshot of his mouth wide open, glasses nearly sliding off, looking utterly incredulous.

“Hey! Come on, Bunny bae, that's not funny! I know you know it’s me—and I also know your pretty pussy misses me!” 

Oh knew, it was your perv ass boyfriend and yeah you did miss him—but you missed your freedom more! And for that reason you are gonna make him think twice before trying to skip out on work again. Not to mention, for having the nerve to show up once you finally found something interesting to stave away your boredom other than him!

“Hmm, I don’t know—prove it then, Doru…”

While Gojo loves goading you into playing games and usually lets you win them too, after nearly 48 ‘grueling hours’ away from you, all he wants now is to simply relax in your company. Ya know, nothing too crazy, just the typical cuddles with him calmly resting his face on your titties while his cock nestles deep up against your cervix—just something casual.

Gojo calling your bluff, ups the ante.

“Heh, kay…”

You’re actually not paying attention this time, admiring your work on your toes and contemplating on the color you should paint your fingernails as Gojo goes silent for a moment. 

Yet once you hear a loud zip, the rustling of fabric, and a belt clank to the ground your eyes practically bulge out of your head as you grab your phone, bringing it comically close to your face while blinking multiple times just to be sure. 

Satoru quite literally has dick and balls out, dangling in the breeze, in front of the entire goddamn neighborhood!

And despite your initial horror and best efforts to remain upset, you pause, your inner slut causing a slight brain malfunction—as even from the small ring camera you can see his deliciously thick cock bobbing fully erect while his mushroomy tip shamelessly drips viscous globs of pre onto your welcome mat.

Thankfully your short-circuiting of common sense only lasts a few seconds before it starts functioning again.

“TORU HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING SUGAR-FUELED MIND!? YOU KNOW THE HOA IS ONE MORE INCIDENT AWAY FROM KICKING ME OUT, RIGHT!?”

Sighing, you groan in dismay as you’ve been on thin ice with your HOA for a while now because of Gojo. 

Not only have you received the most noise complaints in the neighborhood by far, but he also made ‘alterations’ to your home by installing unsanctioned rows of cypress trees. Claiming it was a safety precaution to block the view inside your home from your ‘sketchy neighbors.’ He also ever so obnoxiously takes up 2 parking spots on the street so no one could even “park too close to scratch his Benz” and even sometimes double parked in front of your neighbors house when all the street parking was taken.

You would most definitely be kicked out if anyone in the neighborhood saw all of Gojo’s fairly large bits and pieces freely on display.

And yeah, Gojo did know that. 

He also knew if you got kicked out and had to move you’d have no excuse then not to move-in with him.

Where else would you be able to stay on such short notice? He soon turn that temporary situation into a more permanent one too.

Finally leaping to your feet, you practically trip over yourself—all thoughts of preserving your polish forgotten—as you sprint to the front door.

You can’t get there fast enough, yet as soon as you do, you don't hesitate to lower the barrier and fling the door open.

“Hey sweetn—”

Cutting him off, you grab Gojo by his collar and yank him inside before slamming the door shut behind you.

But you don’t get a chance to scold him. The moment you turn to face him, your lips suddenly meet his, and his large frame envelops yours into a warm embrace.

Your first instinct is to push him away, but even when meeting your furious eyes he just grins knowingly—twirling his pointer finger in the air above him. You frown, confused, until it hits you—Gojo has set up another barrier over your own.

No one could have seen him, but he’d let you believe that so you’d let him in faster.

Urgh, Toru is far too crafty for his own damned good.

It's your turn to pout now, having clearly lost this round badly. 

But Gojo doesn’t let the expression linger—his mouth is hot and hungry on yours again in an instant. Your soft lips are easily parted by his thumb as he slows to tease his way past your lips to glide his silken tongue into your mouth causing him to sigh—you taste sweeter than any candy to him.

The kiss soon turns more passionate as the strokes of his tongue flick longingly over yours, devouring you as he skillfully melts away your anger—in addition to all the bones in your legs. Reduced to a puddle of goo you completely forget you were just about to cuss him out as your legs now press together from the throbbing between your thighs. Your need becoming more agonizing as you grow dizzy from the lack of air.

When Gojo finally lets you breathe again, he chuckles at your dazed expression. Your lids are lowered and you press your body deeper into his own, clutching onto his collar as you nestle your face into his neck, savoring his scent washing over you. 

“So despite all that sass, I take it you actually missed me then?”

You nod eagerly against his skin, in spite of yourself. Even though he isn’t supposed to be here right now, you can’t hold back any longer how happy you are to see him.

“And my pretty Bunny girl is going to let me play with her now?—All of her?”

You gasp as Gojo does not wait for an answer before slipping a hand into your shorts. Hissing at your heat, Gojo swipes his thumb over the outer folds of your cunt and his fingers quickly are becoming soaked before they even got the chance to get up inside you.

Placing a chaste kiss on your temple Gojo's agile fingers had merely confirmed what he already knew: You’re utterly drenched—his needy, cute lil’ pussy was quite literally begging for him and who was he to deny her?

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

“F—Fuck! P-pussy too good. Keep the phone up though, nice and straight Bunny! T-That’s it, you’re the best! SHIIIIT— n’you got the cutest sluttiest lil cunny! C-Can you get a close up of how well my cock is digging out your pretty lil’ bunny hole?”

“Mmmgh!”

Gojo’s filthy words and his even filthier fat cock are bringing you closer to your ecstasy filled ruin as they push you past your limits, engorged veins scraping your walls with every thrust. You're covered in sweat and your entire body buzzes—quite literally as there are vibrating clamps suctioned onto each of your nipples. 

Mmmm, it all was driving you wild!

Not imagining yourself in this position when you woke up this morning at all.

Especially as initially, when Gojo said he bought toys, you thought he had meant fuzzy handcuffs, silken ropes or maybe even some more of that warm edible candle wax that tastes like strawberries—but all this!? 

You could barely see out of your bleary, tear-filled eyes completely caking your cheeks in streaks of your mascara that while supposedly waterproof, definitely is not Gojo Satoru proof. 

In addition to the mind-numbing bliss radiating off your swollen perky buds, your body was covered in some sort of edible oily slick. The warmth was initially similar to that of candle wax—yet morphed into anything but. This time the heat was coming from the flames your own body generated as the effects of the candied warming oil made every part of you saturated in the fluid buzz with need. 

Of course, after soaking your body with it down the tips of your toes and paying extra attention to your nipples, Gojo had been thoughtful enough to pour the most of the remaining bottle over your throbbing lil’ clit. 

Except now there isn’t just a shallow throb between your legs as the fiery sensation of every individual nerve in your cunt was cries out for him to ruin you harder. 

Your legs are wrapped around him impossibly tight as your heels dig into the small of his back and yet somehow, he still manages to snake a hand between your slippery bodies to pet his favorite girly spot on you—your clit. Toying with the swollen nub in a painfully slow manner compared to the intensified thrashing of his hips against your own. 

The motions only serve to push the heart-shaped platinum and pink sapphire adorned butt plug deeper into your ass with every loud vulgar smack of your wet bodies joining—the strange feeling of it jostling against the very walls his cock was drilling has you drooling as Gojo further tests the limits of passion he can push over.   

“C’mon Bunny, you're going to miss the best part, ya better capture it really well how much squirt I can pump out of this cute cunny—or we’ll simply just have to do another take. Not that I’d mind spending all day in your pussy…”

You're not in your right mind to scold him for trying to skip out on more work and you certainly don't have the full capacities to hold his phone up any better—what with your hands were tied together over your head to the bed. Gojo utilizing the fuzzy cuffs afterall.

You can’t even really see if you are getting the right angle as you desperately hold onto the device, keeping it straight and upright lest it slip and drop right on your head. 

“Always such a good girl for me huh, princess?”

Tuh—like he was giving you a choice!

You're unable to clap back though as your tongue, so lax from all the pleasure, sinks back to the roof of your mouth. The slobber gathered pools past your lips, over your chin, down your neck to your tits and Gojo is eager to slurp the train up your body and back to your lips, kissing you. 

It goes without saying, but Gojo in ‘director’ mode is absolutely diabolical. 

The reason being needs the perfect footage of him playing in your guts to make sure he had good enough material to fap to if you wanted him to spend more time away from you while he hunted down the doppel-curses.

“Be good for me a bit longer, ‘kay baby?”

Yet his gentle coos don’t match his demeanor. 

Glasses long discarded, Gojo’s own blue eyes looked crazed. He’s unconcerned with the sweat matting his hair to the sides of his face or the wave of slick your pussy splashes onto his taut abs. Abs are shuddering from just how tight of a hold your pussy has on him—working him overtime as his heavy pants soon twist into deranged lil whines.

“M-Me and my lil’ buddy missed our two girls so, so, s-sooo much—AH-HAH-F-FAHHHCK! G-Gotta show ya just how much!” 

Shamelessly, Gojo had dubbed his cock—his little buddy—the joke that would have emasculated some men but Gojo made it intentionally with the irony that he was anything but little.

“T-They were made for each other baby—lil’ buddy and the wet pretty girl between these thighs, yeah?”

The ham that he is, Gojo always sounds extra insane whenever a camera is recording, howling with amusement when he watches the playbacks. Yet in this very moment, he was as serious as a heart attack—and you definitely weren't laughing as your weeping pussy gets pounded into deeper into ecstasy filled oblivion. 

“Shhh—Stawwp, S’toruuuuu!”

Tsk, you still could form a coherent thought?  

That simply wouldn’t do for Gojo who is working so hard and bought all these new toys to see you come completely undone—and he needed you too soon as he wouldn’t last much longer in your squishy gooey core himself—not how your cunt was holding him in the wettest sluttiest lil hug. 

There's still one item left that he hadn't used yet though, that in trying to keep up his sleeve he'd nearly forgotten about entirely—his own brain quickly leaving itself on simmer by your greedy lil’ pussy sucking him in so sloppy.

Slightly changing your position for more leverage, he throws one of your legs on his shoulder slotting himself between your cushy thighs while he straddles the other leg. Fucking you sideways with increasing intensity from the bruising grip on your hips pulling your pelvis towards on him as he meets your thrusts smacking directly into your cervix.

“Heh, I know what will finish you off! Ya ready to cum baby? Squirt all on this dick you love so much, eh Bunny?—Yeah ya fuckin' will.”

When you don’t answer right away Gojo delivers a harsh slap directly on your clit, the moisture causing the increased sting to intensify sending your senses into a state of floating. Yet, bringing you back to reality, another harsh smack lands on your cunt and you jerk against your restraints, nearly dropping the phone on your face for real this time.

You don’t understand what he's saying to you but you not regardless, eyes rolling back into your head—every single pore on your skin submerged in pleasure. Completely unaware, you don’t hear the additional buzz of the final toy until you feel its silicone lips latching onto your clit while the rigid faux tongue juts back and forth across your bud.

Eyes practically leaving your skull for the second time today, everything flashes white, blinding you even with your eyes wide open. A scream so guttural it comes out silent, the ball of tension in you finally bursting as releases flushes through your entire body.

Cumming harder than you ever had before, you just let go completely, gushing around Gojo’s thick cock still pistoning in your now drenched pussy. The splash zone from your cunt is quite a bit more than usual as a giant warm wet spot begins to soil and expand underneath you both.

Ears ringing, Gojo sounds a million miles away as you hear him chattering on about something—the phone?

You wiggle your fingers, realizing you must have dropped it, but you’re still clueless about what has him so excited—until Gojo’s voice finally slices through your haze, yelling out in absolute wonderment—

“HOLY SHIT BABY, DID YOU JUST PISS ON ME??? MMM FUCK ME FOR REAL!?—SHIT! YOU WETTER THAN A WATER PARK BUNNY—SO FUCKIN NASTY! PLEASEEEEEE PLEASEEEE TELL ME YOU GOT THAT ON CAMERA!”

Suddenly, it dawned on you that when you had let go, you had quite literally let it all go. 

You could die—and if you could muster the strength to move you surely would have raced out to the backyard to quickly dig yourself a whole to do just that in. Yet that clearly would not an acceptable conclusion for your degenerate perv of a boyfriend who is acting like a sinner saved—praising pussy like a newly reborn evangelist baptized in the essence of your erotic filth. 

His elation is simple as he figures how much you really had to trust him to be able to let go and lose yourself to him to that extent—now he wants to lose himself to you as well.

Easily drowning all inside your sloshing pussy like he never swam—Gojo doesn't stop, your pissing only encourages him to fuck himself further into a pussy drunk state to rival your own cock-induced stupor.

Yet, somehow he still maintains enough control to effectively lavish praises for how naughty and shameless your lil pussy is. 

The frenzy drives him directly to his nut, eyes dilate further and slobber frothes past his lips while spearing his cock into you with renewed vigor. Whimpering and stuttering his words and hips alike.  Gojo presses your leg draped across him back against you to be sandwiched between the two of you as leans forward to further ravage your swollen kiss bitten lips again. 

Twisting you up like a pretzel and near the point of passing out from overstimulation you his insane joyous laughter sounds miles away as he topples over his peak pumping ropes of his vicious cum—that he’d been saving up for all you over the last two days—into your battered creamy core. 

Gojo’s thrusts begin to slow but he’s in your guts just as far pushing cockhead right against your cervix stealing your lips into another fiery kiss.

Once Gojo finally lets you breathe air again, you’re completely out of it, the dopey blushing smile on your face. The embarrassment from pissing all over him is completely forgotten as hearts all for him linger in your eyes.

Sex with Toru was never dull to say the very least.

“There you go, there’s my good girl, huh Bunny? Not bored anymore baby?”

Gojo smirks down at you knowingly while peppering your face with sweet loving kisses as you’re steadily drifting off, allowing every exhausted nerve to claim you.

It's still a good minute before Gojo slides out of you, seeinghis discarded phone next to you—it's still recording. A mischevous smile plays on his lips.

Wanting to capture the aftermath of his handiwork, Gojo sweeps the phone across your body, thumbing off moisture from your dewy soft skin soiled with warming oil and sweat. Making sure to linger longer on your lightly heaving chest and the sporadic quiver of your thighs.

Zooming in even closer, Gojo’s two long fingers to part your swollen lips open, admiring more of his work—his masterpiece that was the copious amounts of cum and piss dribbling out of your abused lil’ hole down to the crack of your ass. 

Now Gojo really has a dilemma—he wants to keep filming you as his cum, ever so slowly, trickles out of you. He thinks this scene would make the perfect time-lapse of the creamy sap seeping from your cunt like sugar maple. But he’s also fighting the urge to also suck all the creaminess out of you himself—the cum rimming around your puckered lower hole tempting him to Gojo start there and slurp and suck his way up your clit. 

Truly, he never gets enough of how his taste mingles with yours—and he’s quite curious to know how the additional waterworks will add to your delectable flavor. 

You were so fucking filthy and so willing to try new things all thanks to this doppel quarantine causing you to make this big a mess in the first place.

God he needed this.

More. 

He had to have more from you. 

Gojo couldn’t possibly bring this all to an end anytime soon.  Cooing against your inner thigh Gojo makes a promise to your cunt.

“Heh, don't worry pretty girl, I'ma give you six more months of quarantine at least! Can't wait to—” 

“—TORU, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW!?!?”

Whoops.

Yeah he definitely thought you were already fast asleep—teehee.

......RESULT: PASSED 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍—𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

comment and reblog! next up toji, already finished posting—10/20

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You finally gain the courage to tell your sweet boyfriend you're a virgin... Now, all you gotta worry about is how he'll react.

『Word count』 :  5.73k

-> Genre: Smut. Slice of Life. Fluff. Angst.

Pairing: Boyfriend!San x Chubby!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Body image issues. Negative thoughts. Anxious. Dirty talk. San got a filthy fucking mouth. Unprotected sex (Don't do that). Soft sex. Slight rough sex? Crying. Overstim. Fingering. Breast play. Hickeys. Making out. Lube and condoms are used. Idk this was tooth rotten sweet, so enjoy.

Thank you, anonnie for this request, hehe ♡

Networks: @newworldnet @blossomnet

This is not beta read so if their is any mistakes ignore it hehe.

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Ko-Fi ♡

Sometimes, when you gaze at the way your boyfriend smiles, laughs, or talks someone else's ear off, you really question how you managed to be with him. He was the centre of attention, the crowd player. Everything, confident and perfect. He was the man everyone wanted to be or be with. And then there was you. Sure, you have grown to love some of your insecurities, and getting older helps with that. But you still stand too long in front of the mirror, examining every part you wish to change, and you always make sure to dress to your size. You were chubby… had been all your life, so to have someone like San, be with someone like you, confused you on most days.

What was worse… You were inexperienced. Now, you know being a virgin in your twenties isn't new and is quite common in this day and age but the idea of having to tell your boyfriend, you're perfect in every way boyfriend, that you were still a virgin terrified you.  You kissed and made out before, but the minute he goes to touch you, you’ve recoiled away. Why is he even attracted to me? You’d think over and over again. Does he actually want me? You cried time and time again. It’s been almost a year into your relationship, and San has made nothing clear about how the sex aspect of your life should be.

Most men you’ve tried to date want to get into your pants either instantly or just not at all.

But San wanted to wait. Heck, this man was prepared to wait for marriage if needed. He loved you the moment he found you lurking in the record shop his friend owns. Your love for music brought you two together, and on that same day, he found out your name. He had told his friend that he wanted to marry you. Of course, his friend thought he was stupid and in the puppy love stage, and the delusion would wear off. But here he sits, snuggled up next to you on the couch, stealing glances at your beautiful face almost over a year later, and he still believes to himself he was done. This was it. He found his person and was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

So why couldn’t you see what he sees?

He’s noticed the way you belittle yourself. Caught the way you stare at your beautiful curves in the mirror. Felt you shy away from his delicate touch… All he wants is to touch you and make you feel like the only person in the world. Be dotted and worshipped. Was that too hard to ask?

“San…” Your soft voice snapped him out of his spiralling thoughts, instantly looking over at you, even turning his shoulders slightly so he was facing you with his whole body.

“Yes, baby? You okay?” He knew the tone in your voice too well. He knew it was hiding your nerves.

“I…” You gulped on a thick ball of saliva. “I n-need to tell you something.” You were shaking at this point, having no clue what was coming over you to tell him finally. Maybe it was guilt that yelled at you not to cage him anymore and let him know the truth so you weren't a burden to him anymore. Or maybe it was the way you wanted to be honest with him. Let him see all the sides of you, even the ones you hated. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because deep down, you were over being a virgin, over not knowing what these magical feelings are that are spoken about in romance movies and novels… maybe you just yearned just as much as he did.

“Hey, Doll. You can tell me anything, okay? I’m here and I’ll be here no matter what.” He moved your legs so they were lying over his lap so he could shuffle closer to you before grabbing your shaking hands, holding onto them tightly. “What’s the matter, lovely?”

“I’m…I…” You looked away from his gaze, taking in a staggered breath as you finally whispered out, “I’m a virgin…”

The silence scared you, letting you hear your heart ringing in your ears. You felt like you were being caught on fire and had no control of the flames that were about to engulf you entirely. Then you hear San let out a sigh of relief. “Is that it, baby?”

His smile was bright, chuckling lightly, squeezing your hands tighter. You looked at him with confusion, feeling a sense of shame. Was he laughing at you? “What do you mean that it?!” You were completely dumbfounded by the situation now. This was not how it played out in your head.

“I thought you were going to say you killed someone, or worse, you were going to dump me.” He raked his hand through his hair. Sighing out another relieving breath, but this time it caught in his throat when you pushed his chest.

“Why the fuck would think I’d kill someone San!! and how is dumping you worse than murder?” You pulled away from him, pouting fake anger in his direction. You take your legs off his lap, curling yourself at the end of the couch. He tried to pry your legs away from your chest while you both laughed.

“If you were to dump me I’d scream on the top of a building to tell the world how I managed to hurt the most beautiful, kind-hearted, not to mention fucking unbelievably sexy woman in the world. I would feel terrible if I hurt you to the point you would want to dump me…” He suddenly stopped being dramatic with his rambles as he suddenly noticed your stillness and the tears swelling in your eyes.

“Y-you think I’m sexy…” You sounded so stupid being the only thing you took out of the whole confession. From your knowledge, you do not think you’ve ever heard someone say you were attractive, let alone sexy. San raised his brows with his lips stretched thin. He hooked his hand under the back of our left knee, tugging you forward so you were now snuggled up against him. His fingers grip your chin, bringing your face inches to his before taking his thumb so he could wipe away your tears.  

“The sexiest.” He whispered before pecking your cheek. “The way you smile makes my heart swell.” He kissed your other cheek. “The way you blabber on about whatever show we’re watching and your nose scrunches in the cutest way.”

“I don’t blabber…” You pout, letting him kiss your nose, making his scrunch. He tugged on your waist this time, opening your legs slowly until one was lying across his lap.

“Yes, you do… you also whine…” he kissed your cheek again. “And pout.” He kissed your jaw softly. “And moan…” his hot tongue dipped out of his mouth for a second to lick a little stripe of your neck, making you whimper out a sound you’ve never heard leave your lips before. “You can make the sweetest noises. and don’t get me started on these.”

He gripped your hips, tightly squeezing your waist. Something you are insanely insecure about. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about holding onto these love handles while I make the sweetest, filthy love to you?” His voice was smooth like butter, leaving a melting whisper in your ear. He finally grabbed a hold of you completely, pulling you onto his lap much to your refusal.

“S-san…I’m heav―Do not fucking finish that sentence or so help me god I will strip you down right now and show you how much I love every part of you.” he pulled away so he could hold your face with both hands, locking you in place so you were forced to look in in the eyes. “I do not care if you are a virgin. And I do not care if you have some more curves than others. I am so in love with you sweetheart. Every part of you is perfect in my eyes. And if you are scared of sex. Or unsure how to navigate it. I’m here. I’d be happy to show you, find the way your body likes it. Anything and I’m here. You can't get rid of me that easily.”

“I…” Now you were really crying, making San bring you in for a tight hug so you could sob into his chest.

“Maybe not tonight or next week. But whenever you are ready. We can try. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.” He kissed your forehead softly, letting you slowly calm yourself down. But as you shifted side to side on his lap, you grew impatient. You loved the fact San was willing to wait, but on the other hand, you were frustrated with yourself, and with the situation you had put yourself in…

And so the waiting began. At first, you were nervous that your relationship would shift, and things would become awkward between the two of you. But San acted like nothing happened. He didn’t treat you any differently, unlike other men had in the past, and he didn’t bring it up until you did first. A couple of days after the conversation, you tried your luck when he was cooking. You were enjoying each other's company when you gave him at first a nice innocent kiss. But as your heart rate picked up and his lips became sloppier on yours, you thought this was it. But then the doorbell rang.

Turns out Wooyoung needed San for an emergency… of course, he did.

You tried another time, but then you felt a sudden cramp that let you know that Aunt Flo was coming to visit, so that was a quick turn off. It was only four weeks later after the conversation that you finally got tired of waiting and was going to do everything to have your chance. So on a quiet Sunday evening, where it had been raining all day and the winter weather was quickly setting in. You snuggled up with San in bed. He was on his phone watching whatever he could find while you were not so focused on a book you were reading. You had read the one page in front of you for about an hour before giving up.

You shifted slowly, moving closer to him, simply saying you just wanted to see what he was watching. So you too sat for another twenty-odd minutes while he showed you the brain rot known as his TikTok. Your fingers rubbed slow circles in his chest while you nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck. You were content for a moment, just sitting in his presence... That was until you felt Sans's hand drag slowly on your hip and back, just lovingly caressing you. It made your face heat up. Such a simple touch that you would normally shy away from or recoil. But not this time, these few weeks. You had tried your best to be more physically affectionate with him.

And man, did you find out how much of a cuddler Choi San is.

His new favourite thing was to hold you tightly while you both slept. Bye-bye shiba, you were his new plushie to latch onto all night long. When you cook, he would come up behind you and pull your ass against his crotch by your hips, giving you a soft kiss on the side of your face while whispering ‘I missed you.’

You didn’t think San could get any more desirable but, low and behold here he is.

“Baby?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you tilt your view to see his dark eyes staring down at you. “Where did you go? Wandering in space again?” His chuckle caused even more blush to riddle your feature, tainting your ear now in a deep red.

“It.. uh. It’s nothing just thinking…” You couldn’t possibly tell him you were thinking about him in a not-so-safe-for-work way. Just the pure scent of him was driving you insane. Your fingers laced in his shirt as you looked back at his phone but you were looking at what was on the screen but instead, dazed off, deep in your mind, replaying the way San kissed you the other night. The filthy but caring words he whispered as he touched you softly. Your mind, body, and soul were craving to feel that again...

And San seemed to notice. He knew you were scared about intimacy, and he wanted you to tell him directly when you were ready. But unlike your shyness, your lover boy knew how to read you. He knew you were scared about intimacy, and he wanted you to tell him directly when you were ready. But unlike your shyness, your lover boy knew how to read you. He knew the tension of your body. The way you were holding onto him was a little tighter than normal. The way he spoke, you were too busy in your mind to notice. He could also see the way your thighs were clenched so tightly together, trying so desperately to give you some relief. You were horny and you didn't know how to tell him.

But he could help you...

"Princess? Baby..." He cooed, gently drawing circles down your back. You look up to him with wide doe eyes, lust dripping from them. Your fingers tangled in his loose shirt while your heart rate jumped, suddenly feeling hot and bothered.

"Y-yes, Sannnie..." You gulped, shifting slightly. He let out a light chuckle, dropping his phone onto the bed somewhere. He wrapped his arm around you so he could pull you onto his lap, letting you shift your body until your thighs sat nicely on either side of him.

“Is there something you want to tell me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, sensual… His hands were firmly placed on your hips but did nothing to move you. No, he wanted you to take the lead.

“I…I, uh…” You shifted again, moving slowly from side to side to try and get comfortable. Your eyes were wandering around the room trying to look anywhere but San. His grip on your waist got tighter as he felt your hot core rub against him at just the right pace. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he doesn’t know if he would be able to control himself.

"Sweetheart, if you keep grinding yourself on me, we're gonna have a problem." He choked through a bitten lip, making your eyes suddenly draw to where your hips met his. You could see a very obvious bulge straining his sleep shorts.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean—Baby I need you to shut up and kiss me, okay?" San interrupted you holding your face. He gave you the biggest smile as you took a breath and finally placed your lips on his. You felt the tingle and twist in your gut tighten. The feeling you had been chasing was now knocking at your door, and you were ready to finally let it in.

"S-Sannie—Shh kissing time..." You tried to speak, but San's mouth swallowed any noise from you, making you aware that his tongue wanted to slip inside. You had no clue what to do, but you decided to let your body take the lead. Leaning in, your chest was pressed firmly against Sans, and your hips started to move slowly with the help of Sans's hands. Your fingers laced into the ends of his hair, tugging it to draw a whine from your lover.

"Fuck, baby." He nibbled your bottom lip, whimpering out. He could feel the heat from your core through the thin fabrics of your sleeping attire making him almost just say fuck it and flip you over so he could ravish you his way. But no, he needed you to take the lead, even though it was killing him. You let out a big sigh through your nose, growing frustrated with every grind. You needed more. You craved more. You needed him to touch you bare. Anywhere.

“San..” You whined more sternly in the kiss, his teeth gripping your bottom lip in annoyance that you were talking again. “S-San. I need you to touch me right fucking now please.” Your hands push against his chest making him finally pull back to look at your swollen kissed lists and blown pupils.

“Y-yeah baby. I can do that.” He bit his lip, reaching for your shirt to tug it off your body. You just roll your eyes at your goofball of a boyfriend, helping him. He leaned forward, giving your newly exposed kiss light kisses. You felt too exposed, but you tried to push through it. You knew San loved you and loved every part of you, but that didn’t mean you didn’t overthink the fact that your soft plump skin was on display for such a man like him. Your curves were in his view. He could finally see you completely.

It terrified you.

“Hey baby, look at me.” He gripped your chin, noticing the way your mind had wandered off. You focus back on him, and he notes the anxiousness lurking in your gaze. He smiled at you, slowly retching for your bra clip. “I love you. Every part of you. This pretty body is all mine now, you hear?” He kissed your collarbone, then your neck, then your jaw, before finishing with a peck on your lips. “Come on, say it for me.”

“M-my body…” You stuttered.

“No. Say it properly.” he was stern with one hand holding your hip firmly while the other just kept circling the clip on your back. You felt your face turn red as you started to play with the collar of San’s shirt.

“My body—No…” He cut you off, making you gulp, “My… P-pretty body is all yours.”

“That’s it. Such a good girl, hmm.” He hummed as he unclipped your bra, watching intensely as the straps fell from your shoulders. You help him tear the fabric from your body, leaving your top half completely bare. San had a hitch in his breath as he came face to face with your plump tits. How dare you keep these from him. How did he go so long without having his mouth on them he wouldn’t know… All he did know was that he was going to have you covered in his marks by the end of the night. “Fuck you’re so hot..”

“S-Sannie..” You whimpered as you tugged on his shirt, feeling a little bit too underdressed compared to him. He just chuckles, shifting until you fall back with an ‘oof’. He was now snug between your legs, placing an open kiss on your left breast, taking your sensitive nipple in his mouth. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair in seconds. You’ve never felt such a sensation. It was almost ticklish mixing with a wet tingle spilling down your body straight to your core.

He moved away too soon with an audible pop as he sat up to rip his shirt off. “Fuck baby, you have no idea how badly I wanna fuck these tits. Maybe I’ll do that after I fuck you hmm?” His filter was officially out the window, no longer caring what he might say, all he was thinking now was making you feel the most heavenly pleasure while he got his fill of you.

“Do anything to me San… I’m yours..” You don’t know what came over you to make you say that, but you were glad you did cause the look on Sans's face was priceless. A mixture of shock, pride, and hot, red, lust. So, without another word, San bit down on your breast, causing you to let out a yelp. His hand flew for your shorts, slipping past the hem before dipping into your panties. Your yelp quickly turned into a loud gasp as you felt his cold fingers met your throbbing clit. You’ve never felt such a pleasurable feeling. The way his fingers circle your sensitive nub, slow and steady. Your fingers tangle in the end of his hair, tugging harshly as his lips latch onto your collarbone sucking in a deep red mark.

“You shouldn’t have said that, sweetheart.” He bit down on your shoulder, fondling your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and finger and pressing harshly down on your clit. Your head felt like it was being filled with cotton and your mind started to fuzz into mush with the only thing playing on loop being San and what he had planned for you.

Every move he made was delicate, calculated. He made sure everything he did was perfect for you. His cock was starting to ache in his boxers but he couldn’t care less. The only thing he worried about was making you reach your climax. And with a staggering breath and fast-paced heart, he knew you were close, just needing one more push. “Come on pretty girl. You can do it.” he brushed his nose against your neck before slowly kissing up your jaw until his breath was tickling your ear… “I wanna feel you come all over my fingers.”

He moved swiftly to keep his slow rubs but changed his pointer finger with his thumb before slipping just one finger inside you. Your gasp was high-pitched, stroking out a cry. You felt a tear breaching your eyes as you’ve never felt anything inside you before. Your whole body became over sensitive, and a snap undid all the pent-up pleasure that was running rampant through you. “San, San, San, Oh… Fuck!!”

“That’s it. You are such a good girl.” He kisses your cheek, slowing his fingers before coming to a stop. He let you lay there for a moment, just listening to each others heartbeats and heavy breaths. He moved beside you, pulling his hand out of your underwear so he could hold you close. He wanted to wait, see if you wanted to continue. Deep down, he desired more. He loved nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until you were a screaming mess. But he needed to know where your lines were. What you needed. And if that meant stopping tonight right now… He would be more than satisfied.

You laid there for a moment, feeling suddenly overwhelmed that San was pleasuring you. You smiled… Then sighed, before laughing. Covering your face with your arm, you felt tears starting to pool in your eyes. This got San worried. He sat up straight, sitting on his knees next to you. “Baby are you okay? Did I hurt you?” San was mortified thinking you were crying. He hurt you. He’s finished. He was ready to pack his bags and leave if you said the words, but when he grabbed your arm and moved it away from your beautiful face, he saw a smile. A crooked, hysterical smile… oh no…

“Baby…” He said with caution.

You looked him in the eyes and finally stopped, “You know, if I knew sex felt like this, I would have jumped you sooner.”

Now it was his turn to start laughing, falling to sit on his ass. He threw back a whole chesty laugh. Some filled with pure joy and relief. “Baby, you scared me for a second. I thought I had hurt you.”

You sat up, placing your hands on his bare chest, gliding them along his toned skin towards his shoulders before resting on the back of his neck. “You could never hurt me, Sannie.” The laughter had calmed, and the tension began to grow again. Your lips found his in a soft, almost pleading kiss. A silent beg to continue the evening. So San gently laid you back down, not letting his lips break away from yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing along your own. The feeling was strange at first but quickly turned you on. His hands kept roaming your body, squeezing your curves and plump love handles. For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Maybe not confident, but you felt comfort. Safe in San’s arm. And as he slowly pulled down your shorts, you didn’t shutter away this time. You instead invited him. Helped him remove the fabrics until you were completely bare to him.

“So beautiful. My stunning girl. God, I can’t believe you are all mine.” He moaned into your mouth, shaking his own shorts off before sitting up to lean over to the nightstand. You took this moment to gaze down at San’s shorts and boxers sitting at his knees and his very hard cock against his abdomen. You gulped at this thickness. You’ve never seen a cock in real life before and they were certainly intimidating. “This is going to be very cold but It’ll be only for a moment.”

San’s voice caught your attention as you snapped your head back to him, seeing him shimmy out of his clothes so he could also now be completely naked. He had a condom and some lube in his hand. Cracking opening the bottle, his eyes met yours with a soft expression as if he was apologizing in advance. You spread your legs for him, letting him rub some of the ice-cold gel on you. The gasp you let out echoed around the room. It was certainly cold, to say the least, but there was something pleasurable about the temperature change. “Fuck, s-sannie.”

“Yeah, I know I’m sorry. You’re being such a good girl. Just a little more.” he cooed, finally finishing applying the lubricant. He tore open the packet of the condom but before he could roll the sheer rubber on his cock, you sat up and grabbed his hand.

“D-do you have to put that on?” Your voice got stuck in his head, making him almost choke on his own spit.

“I uh… I don’t think getting you pregnant is a good idea, sweetheart.” He chuckled awkwardly. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you raw but he wasn’t about to without knowing you two could be as safe as you can be. There was silence for a moment as you suddenly felt embarrassed. You didn’t like talking about your experience on birth control but since your relationship with San had moved up the ladder, it was better to explain it now.

“I’m on the bar. It was to help with my period… b-but it helps with not getting pregnant….” God you’ve ruined the mood, haven’t you? Of course, you are the perfect person to ruin the idea of sex cause you spoke about your goddamn period.

“Fuck me…” San’s groan snapped you out of your overthinking mind. “Do you want me to fuck you, raw baby? Huh? God what are you doing to me.” Blush littered your face, your ears also turning a bright crimson at the sound that spilled from San’s lips. He grabbed his cock, squeezing it with a hitched breath. He felt like he was about to bust right then and there just from your sweet innocent suggestion. “Fuck and here I thought you were my sweet girl?”

“I-I am…I j-jus…” San silenced your stutters with a simple soft kiss, smiling through it. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling a tingle in your gut. Like butterflies were tickling you. All your senses were already heightened, but San knew how to make your mind even more dizzy than it already was.

“It’s okay, beautiful. I’m gonna fuck you nice and raw.” He kissed your jaw so gently you almost didn’t feel it. “Fill you up.” He kissed your collarbone, making you grab onto his shoulders. His tight grip on your hip made your breath hitch as you felt his nails dig slightly into your plump flesh. San grabbed his stroked his cock roughly, rubbing his tip against your soaked folds.

This caused you to let out a shaky whimper. “S-Sannie.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to make you feel me for days. Now be a good girl and take a deep breath.” He cooed, pushing his bulbous tip into your hole just slightly. You took in a sharp breath feeling every inch of his cock slowly slip into you. A burning sensation erupted from your core, leaving an ache in its wake. Tears began to form at the pain. You tried to breathe, take deep breaths like San had instructed but it was suddenly very hard to do anything when this pain began to cloud your mind.

“S-San. It h-hurts.” You cried, squeezing his shoulders tightly to the point your nails had dug little crescent shapes into his skin. He rubbed your hips, kissed your neck. Did anything to keep you distracted. He knew it would hurt the first time round, and he felt guilt shiver down his spine at the tears that fell from your beautiful face.

“I know, sweet thing. It’ll go away soon. Come here, baby.” He released a hand from your hips to grab your chin, making you look at him with pleading eyes. His lips met yours again in a gentle, passionate kiss. he inched a little more inside you, and you bit his lip in the process, causing him to moan. And then he sunk in some more, and your nails scratched down his bare back, leaving harsh red marks behind. Every inch he gave, every bit of pain he was forcing you, reciprocated. It was like some beautifully painful dance. That was until he completely bottomed you out.

“Oh my fucking god.” You whimpered. After that brief moment of pain, everything quickly subsided into a warmth of pleasure you have never experienced before. Your body grew suddenly away of how connected you were to San. How close you were. It made you feel loved, cherished. Admired even. Your arms wrapped wrapped tightly around San’s neck, bringing him down for a sloppy kiss before whispering. “Move.”

And he did as you pleased, slowly, inch by inch he pulled out… Until only his tip was inside your aching hole and then with some force pushed back inside you in one swift thrust. Your head threw back at the feeling, letting San latch his hungry mouth on your jugular. Your whole body felt like it was lit on fire from the inside out. A fire that only left room for San. His scent, his movements, his body. Your skin was sensitive to the touch, and both your toes and fingertips were tingling. Pure ecstasy would be the only way to describe what you were feeling.

“There we go. Such a pretty baby. You gonna cream on my cock for me. Please sweetheart I need to feel you come around me.” San’s gravelled words sent shock waves through you. His hot long licking stripes on your sweaty neck, tasting the saltiness your beautiful body was gifting him. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to be inside you forever. Every waking moment, he wanted nothing more than to be this close to you. Maybe he could try to convince you to cock warm him while you both play video games together. He thought. Or better yet, what if you kept his dick warm with your perfect mouth while he was busy in Zoom meetings or working at his desk. Argh, the image in San’s mind would run rampant. He was going to teach you everything he knows and more.

“S-Sannie please.” You hiccuped, feeling yourself creep closer to the edge. But you needed more. So San gripped the back of your hair and pulled. This gave him more of your neck to attack, biting down on your left side, you screamed. “Ahh Fuck!!”

Deep moans escaped your lips over and over like a sweet melody to San’s ears. He pounded harder, bringing his free hand that was perched on your hips to your ankles, helping you lift them over his broad shoulders. You were successfully folding in half for your lover, giving him the perfect angle to pound harder into you while rubbing your clit in fast circles. “Come one sweet thing. I need you to come so I can empty my load into this greedy fucking pussy.”

His words, the angle, his fingers and thrusts. Everything became too much. Too quickly. A snap erupted through your body and a silent scream fell from your saliva-covered lips. “Jesus fucking christ…” San moaned as he felt your cunt tighten around him, making his hips stutter before he stills entirely, unloading his thick cum deep inside you. Both of you laid there for a moment, panting. San had slowly moved your legs until you were laying flat while he stayed on top of you, caging you in his body warmth. Your hands played with the ends of his hair while his began to massage your hips and thighs.

No words were spoken.

Nothing needed to be said. You both simply enjoyed being close to one another. San’s hands would quickly wander a little too far, leading his fingers to graze against your completely soaked cunt that San was still very much deep inside. Actually, now that he thinks of it, there was a lot of liquid all over the sheets. This made San sit up. “Holy fuck…”

“W-what?!” You were startled at San’s sudden deep growl, sitting on your elbows you looked down and became mortified.

“You fucking squirted.” San said enthusiastically “That is the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You fell down with a huff, redness painted your face once again, and your arm covered your eyes. San chuckled, giving you a little thrust, making you hiss out. “Come on, baby. don’t shy away now.” You couldn't help but smile at your lover boy's chuckle. His lips kissed your cheek before moving your rm slowly away from your face. “Hey there beautiful…”

He pressed his lips against yours, gifting you the most loving kiss he could conjure. His heartbeat matched yours in that moment, skipping at the thought he was determined to spend the rest of his life with you. You were everything he could ever want and need. And little did he know you felt the same too.

- ♡

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© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[sceletaflores]

Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up

— or: art donaldson needs a massage therapist…

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

author's note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you. 

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone. 

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you. 

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you. 

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.” 

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller. 

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey. 

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands. 

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure,  "Just try to relax.” 

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter. 

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything. 

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings." 

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done. 

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up. 

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you. 

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back. 

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house. 

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things. 

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.” 

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience. 

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to. 

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing. 

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold. 

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment.

The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want you.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk out that door right now and never step foot in their house again. 

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything. 

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now. 

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him. 

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over. 

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly. 

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue. 

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.” 

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest. 

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still  squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist. 

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from. 

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,”  he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

 "I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room. 

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying. 

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it. 

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you. 

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you. 

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself. 

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you.  Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets. 

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him. 

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter. 

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining. 

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” You whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips. 

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan. 

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you’ve had with her over the weeks. 

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

[tootiecakes234]

Random Big Three One Piece NSFW Headcanons:

(I’m DEEP into my one piece era)

Luffy

First and foremost he loves using his devil fruit powers on you. Will stretch his fingers that little bit further inside you or expand his dick to fill you just that little bit more.

Honestly I feel like he has a high sex drive considering his high drive in every other aspect of life.

At the beginning he is all about his self satisfaction but over time he learns how to be a more generous lover.

He has a huge appetite and I feel like that carries over into eating you. He eats all of you. You also have to teach him to kiss cuz in the beginning he acted like he was chewing on a piece of jerky😭

Will do a swift little aftercare but he only cuddles when he is going to sleep. He can’t sit still for too long otherwise.

Zoro

Loves coming home from a mission that almost killed him! And before he’s even fully healed, sinking right into you. Chopper (who along with the rest of the crew can hear your “activities” ) tries to tell him to take it easy but no!

He also likes to touch and hit on you in front of Sanji to make him jealous. He’s not even the biggest fan of PDA but he does it cuz he knows it gets under the chefs skin.

Really likes smacking his dick against you whether it be your face, your cunt, your tits. Loves when his precum splatters all over you.

This man loves to record and critique the video afterwards. Mostly himself tho. Also learns what you seem to like most and what you don’t. Improves his technique for next time.

When he’s tired, he lays back and makes you do all the work. Teases you when you cant keep it up and takes forever to take mercy on you and help out.

Sanji

Sanji’s favorite thing in the whole world is feeding you a good meal, running you a warm bath, rubbing you down with a moisturizer while giving you a massage and then fucking you nice and slow till all either of you can do is fall asleep in each others arms

Baby boy is so obsessed with everything that is you. You breathe on him in a certain way or look him in the eye a second too long and he’s hard.

He 100% strikes me as a lady should never be down on her knees” type. But he only says that shit to be courteous. If you do tho, he’ll put a pillow down underneath you to put your knees on. Or he’ll ask you to do it while he’s laying down so you can lay between his legs.

Sneaks you onto the deck of the ship to eat his favorite meal underneath the stars.

Sanji is so vocal. Asking how you’re feeling, telling you how good you’re doing, and just generally whimpering and moaning in your ear.

[aquasoftware]

HOT PINK PANTIES…!! ★

Synopsis: One could put up with teasing for only so long before needing to pound you senseless, but Toji doesn’t fail to notice that him being vocal makes you feral.

CW: Dom! Toji/Sub! Reader implied multi rounds, lots of praise, degrading urself once, pet names : (Doll, good girl, pretty, angel, ma, mama), daddy kink, vocal Toji, dirty talk, doggystyle/reverse cowgirl, car sex, dick piercing! Toji (prince albert), breeding, creampie, edging, ass hickeys, begging, spanking, clit rubbing, profanity duh, unprotected sex, established relationship, etc/MDNI.

FT: Drabble

WC: 1.2k || Paring : Toji x F!Reader || M.L

"Oouh... Fuck, ma.." Your boyfriend lowly purred, making you partially bite your lip at his erotically laced voice. Toji was one who had rarely ever been vocal around you, so when he did let out a few moans here and there, boy did it make you weak in the knees.

And he knew what he was doing too, realizing whenever those exaggerated sounds were shoved out of his throat, something ignited in you, causing your beefy ass to rapidly jab back against his pelvis. Swearing up and down that if he recorded this in slow motion, the nefarious recoil would leave him dementedly hypnotized, but he was way too in the moment to pull out his phone right now.

The two of you have been going at it for who knows how long currently, plus Toji couldn't even wait until he got home with the way you were teasing him all night on your date. Besides, his needy little passenger princess also had the nerve to torture his poor hard cock while driving too.

Your boyfriend not bothering to warn you either already implied that you definitely had it coming, which was why the two of you had stopped on an empty roadside for your sore pussy to get pounded dumb in the backseat having the door kept wide open for a few potential passerby's; insanely grateful there were no other cars to be seen yet.

Smudging makeup on the light-colored seats without a care in the world, the only thing that you could focus on was your man's prince albert piercing continuously, nudging against that spongey-like g-spot inside of your velvet cunt.

"Mmngh, d—does my pussy feel good, daddy?" You asked breathlessly alongside whines slipping out, inquiring mind desprately craving his praise like it was the only thing on earth that mattered as drool trudged from underneath your glossy lips.

"Goddd, yes, Y/n, y'er squeezing my cock so fucking tight..." He fed you with affirmation well practically glorifying your body, while his fingers clung onto your hot-pink lacey panties sustaining an unhinged, swift pace, triggering you both to sense the traumatized car to aggressively shake.

"Haah, yeah, that's it, doll.. Fuck back." Toji arousingly demanded producing tiny goosebumps on top of your skin; his eyes slammed shut, engulfing in the heavenly experience at your pudgy fat butt, crushing his wide girth almost pushing his body back a couple of steps.

The way your boyfriend's tip-piercing kicked barbarically against every single sweet spot in those delicious walls, you were sure you were bound to cum just any minute. "Ohhh, s—shitt daddy, don't think I'ma last aah.." Stumbling back and forth on words, you cried out, becoming extremely close to orgasming as tears beaded up towards your lashline, scurrying to escape.

Both of you would probably need more than just two hands to count the number of rounds you've had yet. Toji had you creaming on his dick briskily each time; nobody could ever fuck better than him. “You comin'?" The black-haired man questioned; a lazy grin danced across his scarred lips.

"Mmph, yessss!" A long, amorous response dragged out of you, body on fire as it shook violently, aching arms falling limp on the seat, but still, your fingers began to chase at your plump clit, rubbing it with two fingers, aiding in an intense moment till Toji decided to pull out.

"Don't pull outtt, baby.." Whining at an intense orgasm, only slowly fading away simply because he relished in hearing you beg for him, hissing at the cold summer air that attacked your heated skin before he replied back.

"I wanna hear you beg first, mama." Toji cooed, patiently waiting for your reply, hearing a car whoosh past, doubting they could've seen anything going on anyway since it was nearly pitch black now the only light was a sprinkle of stars. Using a full hand, he harshly spanked your ass, providing an amused hum at the belligerent jiggle motion.

"Please, please, please, let me cum, daddy!" You urgently pleaded, dramatically gasping, when Toji boarderline slingshotted himself into your greedy sopping hole, angling deep at the right spot to instantly bring your climax back.

Muscles began to rhythmically convulse around his wide cock, forming it to twitch like a drum as your entire body began to shake. Noisy mewls spewed out of your plump lips, unable to control your hefty breathing, while your eyes moderately rolled back, leaving a dropped jaw beneath you.

"Such a good fucking girl," Toji praised with a slight groan,spanking your ass again, forcing you to jolt at the sudden action before he spoke once more to talk you through your high "Make a mess all over it, pretty." His words stroked your soul, giving you the push you needed to burst, compelling your spasming cunt to leave a thick ring of cum around your boyfriend's cock.

Pulling out, only to suck the soft flesh of your bubble butt, sinking his fingers into the tender, supple skin, creating dark hickeys everywhere. Toji tapped your leg, backing up, signaling you to get up for a small second, helping you stand on wobbly legs as he sat on the light-colored seat, recognizing the large damp patch you left from previous rounds.

Toji was always never completely done until he poured his seed into your womb. He patted his thigh for you to sit on his lap. A noticeable manspread appeared in front of your eyes. Strongly keen to please your man, you promptly hovered over his lap, aligning his cock to your still sensitive entrance, lightly squealing while you finally glided down.

You were so gorgeous from his point of view, watching the hair in the claw clip hop, scrunching your face as you bounced consistently, helping Toji eventually reach his own climax.

His balls vigorously tightened, grabbing your hips firmly enough to leave painful bruises bucking passionately into your core as the raspy moans and infiltration of sensual curses blew up out of his mouth, granting you motivation to bounce on his dick faster, hearing the skin-to-skin noises grow faster.

"I'm gonna breed you full angel. Is that okay?" Toji wheezed utterly out of breath, banking on your answer whether to cum inside or not, expecting his personally little fuck toy's approval.

"Yes, Toji, fill me up like 'm your filthy sluttt...!" You whinily implored, and who was Toji to deny that request? He thought, thrusting up a couple more times until broad ribbons practically buckets full of semen were released in your wholly bred womb, ending the night with a warm creampie.

Except for some odd reason for him, it was like finding an Easter egg, keeping it mentally noted: "Moan way more often when having sex with my girlfriend."

8/23/24 2:22 am

reblog for clear skin 🧏🏾‍♀️

[renku]

Catering Demand and Need

Loossemble Yeojin x Male Reader

“Yeojin, what are you doing down there?”

“Nothing, oppa... You took so long to get here,” Yeojin playfully twirls her hair while still exposing her thighs out, “I’m kinda lonely here without my unnies...”

“Now’s not the time, Yeojin.”

Yeojin pouted and climbed on the couch, slouching to show her disappointment.

What am I going to do with her? This old, repititive question is almost a million dollar question in Mathematics that the most brilliant minds in the world try to solve. But Yeonjin is on another level. Try with all might and sheer will, it’s always her—Yeojin always, always wins.

Letting a sigh as a sign of defeat before sitting beside her, Yeojin knew that it’ll happen no matter what—she will prevail.

“Baby girl?” soft yet manly tone, a maintained balance of persuasion and dominance. Yeojin must know she’s the one in need, and the one that needs to earn it.

No answer. As expected. Yeojin’s habit of putting the act for a bit longer serves as her trump card. Just to get this over with, let Yeojin have it her way.

Felt the touch from your index finger on her silky thigh, gradually sliding upward until it reaches the hem of the laced white dress. Inaudible gasp escaped her lips, and goosebumps spread all over her.

“Still not going to answer, baby girl?”

Yeojin is a tough cookie to break. Well, you already did literally before but it’s the attitude. She could just gave a nod or a simple 'yes' or 'no' to make things easier. If a newbie managed to survive the job as her manager, it’ll be a breakthrough. But here you are, still on the same role and job.

It would only be a matter of time before the others arrive. Compromising others’ time and schedule would spell disaster. Raising the hem of her dress, a pleasant smell greeted your nose—fresh rose scent from her favorite feminine wash, and visual blessing by means of a matched red-laced panties; enough to increase the blood flow in all the right areas in your body.

As much as you want to tease Yeojin first, it’s just simply impractical and dangerous at the current circumstances.

Grabbing and pulling her undergarments in one go; almost breaking it at the process. Your hands found their place in Yeojin's petite cheeks—oh, for the love of Venus—supple and irresistible.

“O- op- uhm– Daddy?”

Thank God, she finally spoke. And she just used her ultimate move. The perfect trigger—climbing to the level of overdrive.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Will Daddy punish me for not behaving good?” Yeojin turned around to look at you with her half-lidded eyes. Fuck. So vulnerable yet ruinable.

“Yes, my baby girl needs to learn again to listen.”

Spreading her cheeks there lies her impatient lubricated cunt; dripping, already forming a pool on the couch but it doesn’t matter anymore. Unbuckling your belt with haste to push down your pants and briefs in one go just enough to let out your raging cock.

“All fours, now.”

Yeojin didn’t even hesitate for a second. She got herself into position right away.

A two, quick strokes on your cock before lining up yourself in her entrance. The glans kissed her labia, making Yeojin whimper.

“Hmmp–”

“Still not used to this, baby girl?”

“It’s just– Daddy’s cock is too big for my pus– AH!”

Not letting Yeojin finish as you pulled her waist to penetrate her deep right away. Tight. Warm. Wet. Perfect. Words could not even experiencing the real thing. Its grip like it's holding on for its dear life? Priceless. That is why you can keep with Yeojin and her stubbornness, when there’s a sweet prize only you and you can claim.

Your hips knew what they suppose to do—starting from a nice, good rhythm gradually increasing tempo. Clapping sounds growing stronger each second.

“Yes- oh- oh- fuck- yes, daddy! I miss your big cock so much!” Yeojin really screams her heart out in happiness, or pleasure, or both in general. Her cute, lewd voice—the same one she uses to record their songs which her fans enjoy. Well, you couldn’t totally blame them. It’s an earcandy.

“Shit. So good- ugh!” you grunted.

Dirty, filthy sounds—moans, whimpers, two fleshes clapping against the other, and compliments of how two bodies give each other pleasure—are what filled the room basically. You and Yeojin may not admit it but you can’t get enough of each other. It’s like a need that turned into addiction. Yin-yang. Light and dark. Good and bad.

But like everything else, there’s always an end. Your phone rings, and the ringtone is specifically assigned for the group. They’re about to arrive in no time. Time to finish the business and thankfully Lady Luck is on your side.

“Yeojin, fuck, argh, I’m close!”

“Yes, Daddy! Do it inside! Breed me, fill me with your cum!”

Even without her words, you’re about to do it anyway. Spraying all your semen on the couch is not a good news for the others.

“I'm cumming!”

With your final forceful thrust, burying your cock deep inside, ropes and ropes of cum reached her womb, painting her insides. Yeojin’s still tight pussy milking you out—baby girl claiming her prize. She also came as her spasms were noticeable; her body barely keeping steady from her position. Upon slipping out your cock, you pulled her panties back immediately to avoid any droplets of cum reaching the couch.

Yeojin was exhausted real good. But she has to fix herself before the girls see her ruined and messed up.

“Get up, Yeojin. Your unnies are coming. We need to fix ourselves and everything else before they arrive.”

“Ok... yes, oppa,” she said, her voice showing signs of fatigue.

~~~

After making sure no trace was left on the crime scene, the girls arrived just on time. The assistant manager was the one who handled them for the meantime. They looked tired on the ride going home.

“Oh, manager-nim, Yeojin, you two are here already? How lucky!” one of the girls said.

“Just need to talk about something with our lovely maknae,” you replied.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing serious. Just a few reminders from the company.”

“I see. Well, we better go to bed it’s already getting late.”

“Right, right. Shall we, Yeojin?”

“Yes, manager-nim!” she responded with such enthusiasm, and winked at you before going to her room.

“Oh, please,” you sighed, as the exhilarating job of keeping up with them especially Yeojin, continues. Sadly.

A/N: Purely BFH and done in one sitting. Seeing Yeojin was just- hoo, nevermind. Anyway, the fic is unedited so forgive me for a few mistakes. Have work tomorrow but still finished this using the writing juices I have. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, or night!

- Ren :)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Beyond the 305 || LS2 {4}

Summary: Australia GP - need I say more?

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, implied smut, angst

WC: 2.8k

One || Two || Three || Four

There really was a new appreciation for the effort Logan put in everyday for not just his team but for you too. You never understood how exhausting it must have been for him to balance his training and race preparation, media and sponsor duties, and flying home to you every spare moment. Now that you were travelling with him full time you finally got to see just how much added pressure it had put on him.

The London apartment, no, flat, as they called it here, was spacious enough for two people and one large dog, but it was a quarter of the size of your home in Miami. It took some getting used to, walking the length of the space in a matter of seconds or catching your toe on the furniture to avoid stepping on Sooty’s tail. But you wouldn’t change it for the world when you got to curl your body around Logan’s every night and wake up to his kisses.

“What’s your plans today, sweetheart?”

The sunrise here was watery and pale compared to Miami but it still managed to catch the blonde streaks of hair on Logan’s head. He was already dressed and ready to go for his morning run and you could hear Sooty’s paws on the wooden floor as he paced by the front door with his leash between his teeth.

“Not a lot. At 3 I have to take Sooty to the V.E.T.S,” you spell out knowing the black labrador would start sulking if he heard the word. “He has to have some extra shots now if we want to take him to Shanghai.”

Everything took more preparation when you didn’t have the usual support people around. There were different certificates needed for Sooty and new regulations for each country. It wasn’t like you could just drop him off at Dalton’s for the week. The usual help was across the Atlantic and Lily would probably be happy to have Sooty except she would be able to take him to her uni classes. Your big baby needed companionship or he would whine and howl to get attention.

“I’ll come with you,” he said with a kiss before grabbing his AirPods from where they were charging beside the bed.

“I thought you had your podcast today?”

“It’s a long flight, Alex figured we could record it on the way.”

You smiled at the thought of going to Australia for the first time. You pictured warmth, beaches and sun like you were accustomed to. It was more exciting than the other destinations so far this season. Your smile faltered as you remembered you really needed to finish packing for the evening flight and you tossed the blankets back.

“You can go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled his shoes on. “It’s only 6.30.”

“If I don’t finish packing now I will lie awake stressing about it anyway.”

The suitcases were already on the floor of the closet, his clothes folded neatly inside. One half was William’s team uniforms, the other were his personal clothes. The second suitcase only had a garment bag with a cocktail dress for a night out before the circus began.

“I thought you said you started?” he asked as he grabbed your waist and looked over your shoulder.

“I did start,” you pointed out. “Just didn’t get much past there. Someone distracted me.”

Logan’s hands started to roam your body exactly like they had the last time you tried to pack. “You should have more self control,” he teased.

“I’ve never been good with that around you.”

Logan turned you in his arms and grinned. “And I’m goddamn glad.”

His head started to dip down and his lips were already pursed for the kiss he was more than happy to distract you with, when Sooty started to cry at the front door. A deep groan exhaled as he dropped his forehead to yours, the moment stolen from him.

“I’m coming, Soot,” he said over his shoulder before looking back at your lips. “I’ll see you in an hour, honey.”

Logan stepped away with hesitation in his eyes and your hands fell back to your sides as you sent him a flirty wink. “Run faster.”

His lips kicked up and he returned the wink. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Logan found you sat on the floor in the closet when he returned with a sweat soaked shirt in his hand and a very happy dog at his side. The smell hit you as Sooty bounded into the room and you understood why he was so happy when you almost gagged.

“Sorry, sweets, he rolled in something at the park.”

“Something seriously dead,” you coughed, waving your hand to try to get some fresh air. “Oh my god, Soot, that is rancid!”

Logan caught his collar before he could jump onto your lap and started to guide him out of the room. “Come on, buddy, showertime for both of us.”

The water started running and you heard Logan’s soothing voice through the walls as he calmed Sooty down. Like most dogs, he loved water but hated baths. While they were busy, you finished off folding the last items you were taking and closed the suitcase with a satisfied huff, just in time to hear your name being called.

“We’ve got a runner!”

You dashed out of the room and grabbed an old towel from the linen cupboard before making chase. Logan’s towel hung precariously low on his hips and he struggled not to slip as he ran through the flat behind Sooty. Your laughter filled the room as Logan tried to herd Sooty into the towel you held open, but he was too agile and skidded out of your reach. Logan wasn’t as lucky and failed miserably as he tried to avoid the collision.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he gasped as he pulled you onto his lap and felt your body for any bumps.

“I’m fine.” Your giggles grew as Sooty bounded back over and shook out his fur. “At least we don’t have to dry him now.”

Logan laughed, holding you tighter as he realised his towel had been lost and he was sitting naked beneath you. He swallowed deeply and your eyes started to follow a rivulet of water as it rolled down his chest.

“Soot, time for a nap,” he ordered, his voice dropping with the heated look in your eyes. Paws padded across the floor before his cuddly toy squeaked under his head and Logan rose to his feet, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to bed.

Pillowy kisses warmed your neck as Logan’s hands lifted your shirt up, breaking away only long enough to pull it over your head. Dropping to his knees, he dragged your leggings down and left sweet kisses on your hips before he kissed his way back up your body.

“I love you,” he whispered as his lips finally met yours and he stole your breath with his tenderness.

“I love you too, always.”

He smiled at the promise. “I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer until your bodies were flush together and you felt his hard length press to your core. “Or you could just hold me.”

—

The atmosphere was jovial and Logan was relaxed going into race week. Oscar had escorted you and Logan around his hometown with Lily, showing the best spots to eat and the quieter beaches to visit with Sooty. The boys hadn’t been able to resist karting at the track Oscar had learned to race after media day ended. They had tried to get you and Lily to join but you were happy to play referee to their on-track battles.

“Logan looks more relaxed this year,” Lily commented as you both enjoyed a lemonade ice block in the shade of a tree.

“He’s got some experience now but I think that’s going to come with its own pressure. People are still expecting a lot from him, I just hope he has a car that can help him meet those expectations. He was just starting to get the hang of the last one and then the season was over.”

“It sounded like the car was going to be better this year from what Osc said.”

“I'm sure that’s what Alpine told Gasly and Ocon too,” you said with a laugh.

“Serves them right,” Lily giggled. “Alpine, not Pierre.”

“What about Estie Bestie?”

Lily wrinkled her nose at the nickname. “I only met him a couple of times but I definitely wouldn’t call him that.”

It took a lot for Lily to struggle to find something nice to say about someone, she was the sweetest, most soft spoken woman you knew. So it was enough to suggest he was someone you probably wouldn’t go out of your way to meet anytime soon.

“I do wish the guys would include Lo more. I know it hurts him to see pictures of the others getting together. Not that he says anything, he’s too polite,” you said with a sigh. “He was so happy when he was invited to play padel at Testing.”

Your eyes found his blue helmet as it raced around the track, neck and neck with Oscar’s orange one. It was amazing what he could do when given an equal piece of equipment, you would never have been able to tell that they were on opposite ends of the driver standings when watching them call a draw at the finish line.

The boys abandoned their helmets and dropped to the grass beside you and Lily laughing about something Oscar had said on the walk over. Sooty was in heaven as he rolled onto his back and welcomed the fresh hands for belly rubs.

“We should get a dog.”

Lily didn’t look impressed at Oscar’s suggestion and you distracted yourself by offering Logan some of your ice block before it completely melted.

“Just something small, like a Jack Russel,” he continued. “They can’t be that hard to look after, right?”

You barely contained your laugh as you shared an amused look with Logan that he returned, but Lily caught it.

“Just ask them,” she pointed out. “It’s like having a child, isn't it? I’m studying, you’re working and travelling, who will look after it?”

“It is a full time commitment,” you agreed. “And it takes a lot of planning to have everything prepared for travelling. I actually think a child would be easier, they only need a passport to get on a plane.”

Logan nudged your knee with his and winked. “Should we test that theory out?”

“We haven’t even set a date for the wedding so calm your loins, babe,” you said with a pat to his thigh that triggered Oscar to snort.

“Okay, no dog,” he conceded, a relief to Lily’s ears. “You guys wanna get dinner?”

You were about to take up the offer but Logan shook his head and said, “we have somewhere to be.”

“We do?”

“I didn’t ask you to pack a nice dress for it to get left in the hotel. I have something special planned,” he teased. “And no, I’m not telling you, it’s a surprise.”

Try as you might, he didn’t give you a hint of what he had organised.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.”

Logan was struck by your beauty and his luck as you stepped out of the room in a dress that accentuated all of your features. His mouth went dry at the thought that he had the pleasure of spending the rest of his life with you.

You stepped closer and ran your palms down the clean lines of his dress shirt that had the top two buttons undone. The baring of skin showed the necklace he wore, a gift from your first anniversary. He had far more expensive pieces of jewellery but he favoured that one the most because it came from you.

“Are you sure we have to go? You’re too handsome for your own good.”

His eyes traced the peek of your tongue and it rolled across your lips suggestively and he felt his pants tighten. He did debate cancelling it all to take you straight back to the bedroom you had left but he finally wrestled his thoughts back under control. “Unfortunately, but I might cancel dessert and have you instead.”

A town car was already waiting at the front of the hotel and as it drove along you watched the city as the sun set and the street lights brightened. Melbourne was beautiful.

“We should set a date for the wedding,” Logan suddenly said as the car pulled up at the city waterfront. “Everything is so uncertain this year but you’re the one constant in my life. If I lose everything else I’ll survive, but I will always need you.”

You laced your fingers with his as you stepped out of the car and thanked the driver. “You’ll always have me, wedding or not.”

He smiled and kissed your ringed hand, leading the way to a yacht moored at the pier. “I know, but I kind of look forward to calling you my wife.”

“Kind of? I hope you’ll have more enthusiasm with your vows.” Your words were light and your smile teasing before you released his hand to board the private boat.

The light mood lasted well into the night and your heart was as full as your stomach when the boat finished its harbour cruise. You wished that mood could last all weekend, but the universe had other plans.

yourusername

yourusername date night with my favourite human @/logansargeant 💙 thank you @/lilyzneimer for babysitting our boy, Sooty, not Oscar.

You knew that look of defeat when he emerged from James’ office, it saturated his soul and leaked out through his pale blue eyes. You could count on your hand the number of times Logan had cried in front of you and your heart ached at the thought of adding another to the tally. Without a word, laced your fingers with his and walked back to the privacy of his driver room. The door shut, the sound as muted as the mood, and you opened your arms to let him fall into your embrace as he confirmed the rumours were true. Logan’s hands clutched the back of your shirt in his fists and he buried his face in your neck. “Alex is racing.”

Your heart broke at the despondent tone and you drew soothing circles across his back. He had known it was a possibility going into the meeting but had hoped his principal wouldn’t put him in a position to give up his seat for the race. Unfortunately his prayers had gone unanswered.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” you murmured as his tears hit your shoulder. “I can’t believe they are even allowed to do this.”

“James didn’t want to ask, but he’s right, Alex has the best chance for points - his history shows that clearly,” Logan rasped through the lump in his throat. He felt humiliated, disappointed and angry all at once, but he was expected to grin and bear it for the team as a united front.

Your brows knitted together and you cradled his face in your hands so you could look him in the eyes. “He gave you the choice?”

Logan shrugged. “I mean, it didn’t feel like it, but I did say yes.”

“Yes means nothing if it’s under duress,” you stated bluntly, a familiar fire warming your stomach at the thought of his kind nature being taken for granted. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll take him to church.”

Logan shook his head and the gaping wound that had been cleaved into his chest closed a little at your protective nature. He knew you would march right back into James’ office and argue until you were blue in the face, but he feared it would only make things worse for his future prospects in the team. This was his battle to face and he was going to play the long game, even if it took playing the fool for one race.

“I know you would, sweetheart,” he said with a sniffle, wiping his eyes and swallowing down the emotion. It would have made his father proud. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said with a kiss, tasting the salty tears on his lips. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just…stay with me?” Logan took a few steadying breaths and rested his forehead on yours as he screwed his eyes shut. “The cameras, I can’t deal with them alone. I can already feel them zooming in on me, wanting a reaction.”

You draped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair with a reassuring smile. “Let’s disappoint them all then. Shall we?”

He took a deep breath and forced his lips to tip up into a hesitant smile that slowly grew more substantial the longer he looked at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ Puppy-lovin' ♡

A/N: Oh my goodness this took me FAR TOO LONG!!!! Commission of headcanons for my lovely sunshine anon, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE MY DARLING!!!

Even more headcanons of puppy hybrid and Leon shenanigans!!!

Warnings/content: 2nd person (you/yours), fem pup hybrid reader, grumpy ol' man Vendetta Leon, Leon is referred to as daddy! lots and lots and LOTS of fluff!!! Headcanons!!!

Word count: 3,250 approx.

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

What is his biggest pet peeve that she does? (Ik he's obsessed with her HAHA but he  i s  still a grump at times, after all)

TEETHING. That sweet fluffy baby chews on ANYTHING she can get her little canines on. Food and water bowls, toys, chair legs, trashcans, clothes, towels, shoes. Leon has to sit you down and explain that yes you do have very pretty chompers and yes the hybrid vet said they were very healthy and you were a good girl for brushing them on your own but that doesn’t mean you have to PROVE A POINT WITH SAID TEETH!!!! SAVE IT FOR THE SQUEAKY TOYS!!!!! HIS COMBAT BOOTS DID NOT DESERVE THAT GNAWING!!!!!!

I also feel like her whimpering might sometimes get to him?? Depending on his mood. Like making dinner? Whimper. He’s in the bathroom? Whimper. Reading files? Whimper. Tv without her? Whimper. Broken record. His puppy just wants to be around him any time she can because that’s her daddy obviously, and he loves her to bits, but sometimes the man just wants to take a piss alone! We’re talking he gets a few fingers gently bapping at the gap between the floor and the door out of curiosity with mixed whines, or sometimes he has to keep it open a crack so you can hold his hand as he goes. You’re so damn lucky he loves you and that thumping tail of yours.

“Listen, listen, a man has the right to pee in peace. My puppy says otherwise, okay?” -Likely said by Leon as he’s laughing to one of his coworkers about your behaviour. 

₊˚⊹ ��

What's something that'll make him go "Who did this, hm?" And she's like- anxiously wags,,,, like when dogs know they're guilty n stuff 😭

ONCE MORE THE CHEWING!!!! I also feel like she can’t be trusted with porcelain or glass for obvious reasons (cough cough Picture Perfect fic cough) so if he does let her eat with him at a table or anything it’s gotta be plastic. One time she’s wanting to be helpful and get him a glass of water as they’re winding down for the night, he came home from a long tedious day of work, and on her way to the faucet she’s still so excited about him being back that she completely forgets she is in fact holding a glass. When it hits the floorboards it’s instant chaos, babygirl’s sitting there staring at the shards like ‘uh oh uh oh uhohuhoh-’ and not knowing what else to do she puts a pillow over it. Because yeah honey, he’s totally gonna think that's perfectly normal.

So obviously when Leon finds it, seeing the pieces collected in a neat little pile under a cushion, he’s giving a call. 

“Sunshine. C’mere a second, baby.”

And you toddle your way in with that tail slightly tucked, not making eye contact. Oh he already knows what’s going on, you’ve never been very good at lying.

“Y’know, it’s funny sweetheart. I come home from a long day of work, have an amazing dinner with my favourite girl in the world, take a nice hot shower and start getting ready for bed. But right as I’m turning the lights off, I find this.” He gestures rather pointedly to the cushion atop the glass shards. 

“And I’m thinkin’, hm, that’s odd. So I pick it up, and look at what’s hiding under it.” Picking it up by a corner of the casing, he makes sure to add an over dramatic gasp. “Broken glass! Isn’t that the strangest thing, puppy? I mean, what are the odds?” His broad shoulders shrug as if he himself can’t believe this ‘totally random’ sequence of events leading to a pile of glass ‘randomly’ appearing under a pillow. “You wouldn’t happen to know who did this, now would you honey?”

You’ve got your cute butt planted on the floor by now, looking up at him rather pitifully. Staring from beneath your lashes, tail slowly wagging back and forth across the hardwood, ears pressed back. 

When you do finally speak, it’s a mumble of “I was getting you water n’ I forgot…”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You.. forgot? You forgot what, sweetpea?”

“...Forgot I was holding the glass..”

Oh his heart just melts. You’re an angel, a bit of a dummy at times, but such an angel. Leon can only shake his head with a chuckle, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “My sweet, silly girl. Let’s get this cleaned up then, alright?”

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Do you think Leon will have his days where he needs space from her from a difficult mission/assignment?

It’s a 50/50 depending on how hard the mission was. If we’re talking like freshly Vendetta Leon then definitely. He’s just so mentally drained, sometimes he just needs to have a minute to fall face first into bed, lay there for a couple of hours. He’ll leave to go to the bathroom and hear your paws padding after him but he just doesn’t have the energy to do anything more then pet you as he goes to grab another drink from the fridge. Sometimes alcohol, sometimes soda. It depends on how shitty he’s feeling, how much he wants to torture himself.

Sometimes you sit at the door with a meek whimper and swishing tail, at first confused as to why he’s so down. Pawing at the wood grain like the poor dumb girl you are, missing your favourite person and just wanting to be there with him. From time to time you crawl up into bed next to him, slipping under his arm to lay your face in the crook of his bicep, often to receive a gentle pet. “I just need a second, puppy. You’re my good girl, though.”

A few times you’ve asked him why he gets like that, why he seems to sink back into himself, and he just sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y’know how you get upset after the vet, cause they prod at your teeth with the nasty tasting gloves and you have to get your shots?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well sometimes Daddy gets like that after a really really hard day at work.”

“..If I put a Hello Kitty bandaid on it and..” You scrunch your little nose in thought, “..buy you a stuffie for being brave will you feel better?”

And he just chuckles fondly, giving your hair a gentle ruffle. God, you’re too sweet. “Maybe baby, maybe.”

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Do you think he'll get better with the drinking with her around, or do you think he still drinks? I imagine that she's not a fan, if he still does!

He definitely tries his best to at least cut down on the drinking, but I doubt he’s entirely sober since - well, it’s Leon - but he really doesn’t feel the need to sometimes. Usually when something shitty goes down he instantly goes for the bottle, but now? Now it takes a lot more to drive him into that spiral. 

Most of the time when his depression hits it’s like you sense it, call it that puppy instinct, and you’re toddling your way over to lay your head on his knee and whimper. He tries not to get too drunk, he knows you hate it. How he sways and scruffs at your hair sometimes a little too hard. But he’s trying. Tries to substitute the shitty burning taste of whiskey with spicy foods as an alternative, or punish himself through tonic water only to look like an angry cat once the glass is finished. Anything other than alcohol if he can stomach it.

Because he doesn’t want you to remember him as someone who drank all the time, he wants you to remember how on the bad days he opened his arms to you and let you lay atop his chest as his own personal weighted blanket. How despite how he used to snap and draw away from everyone, how he’d shoot whiskey like it was water, you coming into his life made it all feel so much easier.

He wants you to remember that you made it easier. You made it better.

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

When she gets in trouble, what is it for? And is there any form of "punishment" or "grounding"? 

Timeout is HUGE, I don’t think he’d have the heart to actually ground her. One bat of those big babydoll eyes and he has to remind himself NOT to cave. The only thing he can’t do is take her toys away, that would eat the big guy up inside AND out, he knows how much you adore your stuffies and squeakies. 

Usually it’s just lockup time in her pen to sit and think about what she did, doing his best to ignore the pitiful sound of your whines of guilt. He knows you hate timeout, but he doesn’t really know how else to punish you! That or taking away your weekly movie night until you behave, which means no 2 or so hours of uninterrupted cuddle time on daddy’s lap, which is worse than a jail sentence in your opinion. 

The cone of shame has yet to be used, same for muzzles. You’ve cut it pretty close a few times with any of the ladies who stick around and talk to him too long though! He had no clue his sweet sunshine baby had a knack for nipping at ankles.

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Does she beg for food, and if so, how does Leon go about dealing with it?

BIG puppy dog eyes at the table, sitting at his feet. Sometimes he caves, because duh, you’re his baby. But Chris keeps saying he needs to be more stern so he tries and tries and TRIES. But you have those HUGE glossy blinkers on blinky mode up at him, and your tail is swish swish swishing happily against the wooden grain and you just look so ready to get a little bite of whatever he’s got and who is he to deny you? You who wakes him up with kisses and cuddles, who trots along behind him everywhere he goes. You sit at the window and wait for him to get home from work for god’s sake, surely a little piece of food is nothing, right?

He’ll do it cause he loves you, other times cause he wants to see how you’ll react. One time you gave him the puppy stare for a lick of the hot sauce he got to go with his wings, which was a moment of instant regret on your end. Leon had to bite back the biggest smile with an “Is it good, baby?” Watching you smack your lips and tongue with a scrunched up face and furrowed eyebrows. Shaking your head around and yapping as if the taste was a personal attack on you.

Sometimes you even get fancy with it, padding from leg to leg at his feet, doing little spins out of excitement for whatever tasty morsel he’s about to drop into your mouth. I mean c’mon, how is he supposed to resist it?

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

How does he interact with her in his depressive states, and how does she comfort him?

You 100% believe he needs a stuffie. So you’re dropping your toys in his lap with big wet eyes and a slow swaying tail. It has to make him feel better, right?

Leon has two main moods when he’s in his depressions. ‘I’ve ruined everything, no one come near me.’ And ‘I’ve ruined everything, please don’t leave me alone.’ Swinging between these moods like an unstable seesaw, but he just can’t bring himself to pull you down with it. Who is he to look you in the eye and tell you to go away, when all you want to do is help? You’re not a bad girl, not a bad dog, so why should he lecture you on behaviour that comes as natural to you as breathing? Your kindness and need to ensure he’s as happy as you are, it’s practically built into your little puppy brain. Because he’s your daddy, and you love him. 

So he tries his hardest. He lays on the couch for his usual hour of slumping but keeps an eye out for a swishing tail, an ear out for any little whimpers. You’re climbing into his lap, crawling all over him to put your weight on him, cuddling up like a plush toy. 

And he wraps his arms around you silently, letting you be his anchor.

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

When she asks to come with him to work, how does he respond? (Bc obvi she can't come fight bioweapons with him,,)

Sometimes he’ll take her when he has desk duty and Hunnigan just MELTS she LOVES your sweet little tailed self. But other times either he has to call Becca and Claire over to babysit you, cause there’s no way that he can leave his poor sweet girl at home alone! And you whimper and whine the whole time but it’s either that or coax you to go to the DSO before Claire comes to pick you up after the work day is finished.

Like how is he supposed to look at you and go ‘no baby you can’t go with daddy to work because daddy shoots bugs and-’ 

BUGS? YOU LOVE BUGS!!!! BUGS DESPISE YOU SO YOU’LL BE SO GOOD ON BUG DUTY!!!!

“I know puppy, I know. But daddy’s going in a biiiiiiig metal bird, and I know you love to chase birds so I can’t take you with me. Cause what if you bite the bird too hard, huh? Then daddy can’t buy you new toys! Can’t have that happening, sunshine. So, how about this. You can sit at daddy’s desk next to miss Hunnigan and when I talk to her over the little ear phone she can pass it over to you and you can have a chat with me. Is that okay? Yeah?”

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

How does he react when she catches things for him, like bugs or something? (he def didn't ask her to LOL) I feel like she'd be eyeing a moth or something and be like omg a present for daddy :33 (she has good intentions fs)

That man honestly gets a leaf bug or moth at his feet once a month. A little half chewed, he saw you spitting out tufts of wing a few minutes ago so he can guess that’s why. You’ve always been a jumper, pouncing and bouncing around the yard or when he takes you for walks. So it’s no wonder you started up this habit.

“Yes- yes baby, I know you got it just for me and- mhm. Mhm I do love it honey but I just think- And I’m so proud of you for hunting it all on your own but sweetpea how about instead you bring me.. I don’t know, fuck- wait don’t say that word. Hm. I don’t know leaves you find interesting.”

Stupid man. Dumb dumb idiot man. Next thing he knows there’s a small collection of leaves lined up at the back door. He’s gotta figure out an alternative and fast, boy. 

Has he ever had to bandage her up bc she did something dumb that he warned her not to do? 😭

That girl’s mortal enemy is anything that like, rears up at her. Praying mantises, spiders, grasshoppers, wasps and bees. If it moves, and it moves in a way that she perceives as a threat, it will be bapped with her hand.

“Hey- hey woah woah woah woah woah- easy there, tiger.” He’s scooping you up off the grass as you’re growling and yapping at whatever insect has made the mistake of buzzing too close to his sweet girl. “That’s a praying mantis, baby. If one of those big claws gets you, it’s gonna scare the sh- ahem, it’s probably gonna spook you.”

Five minutes later when he sets you back down he hears a startled yelp followed by you scampering around the backyard waving your face back and forth. Yeah he should’ve expected that. Watching as you finally flick the bug away with a huff of disapproval, which is followed by a very overdramatic whimper in Leon’s direction. Obviously need of love and affection after such a traumatic experience. Nothing a bit of antiseptic and plenty of well placed kisses won’t fix.

SO many scrapes. Bee stings, ant bites, mosquito bites, scratches and bruises from bouncing around the yard and house. He had to buy the Sanrio bandaids to patch you up or you refused to sit still. Thankfully your new favourite thing is barking at the other hybrids on the tv, an activity that WON’T result in several bruises. Maybe an earache or two, perhaps a sore throat, but hey, that’s better than box upon box of bandaids. 

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

When he wants her inside, and she does that one excited play pose (you know the one HAHA), does he entertain it, or does he know better to just go inside because she'll follow? LMAO

You’re padding your way around through the grass of the backyard, tail high and wagging proudly. You’d been very successful in your burying of a bone, planting your own little territory outside the house, and because of that success a buzz ran through your body. Being the jitterbug you were with a case of the zoomies coming on, you gave your ears a shake out when Leon’s whistle was heard.

“Puppy? C’mon, babygirl. It’s getting dark.”

But you were just getting started! Maybe you could convince him, after all if puppies had to listen to their daddies, surely daddies had to listen to their puppies right? That’s, like, the law. And you still have so much energy!

So, ever the bouncy pup you are, you crouch down into ‘the pose’. Everyone knows which one. The one you pull when you’re telling another hybrid you wanna play, the half bow with you eyes locked on him and a fast wagging tail.

“Baby- no. Oh, don’t give me that face..” Leon runs a hand over his face with a long sigh, biting back a smile with all the teeth he can manage.  

But you’re giggling with that big grin on your face, hands braced like paws against the grass and ears perked up expectantly.

“Honey..no. Now-

As soon as he takes a step towards you, no matter how small it is, you’re jumping in a little circle with happy yaps. Next thing he knows you’ve got the zoomies, and you’re bounding your way through the freshly-clipped lawn. All he can really do is lean against the outside wall and wait for you to run out of energy, arms crossed with a grin on his face. IIt doesn’t last too long thankfully, a few bounces, a couple of spins and you’re trotting over to him panting. He watched the whole thing, your tail wagging a gazillion miles an hour each time you hopped, skipped, and jumped. You always found endless ways to entertain yourself outside, Leon really didn’t know how you did it. 

 And yeah, it was getting dark out, but it was only a few minutes more of watching his sweet girl bound around happily, he’d only really try to rouse on you if it was for your safety. But right now? As your big eyes watch fireflies fill the backyard’s air, pawing weakly up at them between giggles, he knows it’s worth it. 

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Like my work? Consider buying me boba!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sleep

Katrina Gorry x Teen!Reader

Summary: You fall asleep

"Hi everyone," Katrina whispers to the camera," I just thought I would show you all what I'm dealing with."

It's almost pitch black on the screen as she moves her phone to capture the area. She's in a hotel room, that much is obvious. It's one of those hotel rooms that's got a double bed and a single.

She aims the camera at the single bed, where Clara is sound asleep, pressed up against her pillows.

Then, she draws the camera back to the double bed. It shakes for a moment before it focuses on you. You're curled up against Katrina's side, light puffs of breath tickling at her neck.

Her hand strokes down your bed hair as you fidget around for a second before you settle.

"Got the wifey to bed," She says to the camera," And the kiddo."

You fidget again, eyes fluttering open and closed before you're completely relaxed.

When she arrived at Vittsjö, she hadn't quite expected you. Obviously, there was Clare and then later on Charli but then a fourth Australian on the team wasn't what she expected. She expected it even less when she found out from her new teammates that you were the rising star from the youth programme.

"My parents are both Australian," You had told her when she asked," They're here for work. We moved when I was nine." You had then confessed that you rarely saw your parents due to the long hours they worked and throwing you in football had been cheaper than getting a babysitter for you.

It was at that moment that she knew she'd keep you close. You were barely sixteen, full of energy and a desire to prove yourself so Katrina set herself up as the person to reign you in a little bit.

It was hard at first, all you wanted to do was resist and resist and resist until you nearly snapped your ankle at training and, with your parents on a business trip, you got stuck at Katrina's place.

Suddenly, you had a structure in your life and a routine and (most surprisingly to Katrina) a bedtime. It sucked for the first few days with Katrina watching your every move and scolding you when you tried to wiggle away and leave without telling her.

But, somehow, you managed to settle in with and never ended up leaving even when Clara moved in and suddenly you were competing for Katrina's affection with her.

Somewhere along the way, you ended up between them both every day at practice. You were always within arms reach of them both during training and when you inevitably got called up to the Matildas for the World Cup, Katrina felt more proud of you than she ever had before.

You groan loudly as your eyes adjust to the light of Katrina's phone screen. You lift your head.

"Mini," You say," 'S too early to get up." You moved around slightly until you were fully face-planted in her neck. You did that a lot now, always curling into her in some way or another like a clingy little baby.

She just smiles fondly at you, still recording on her camera.

"I don't want to get up," You mutter, refusing to come out from your hiding place as Katrina cards her fingers through your hair, gently working out the knots there.

"You don't have to get up," She assures you," Go back to sleep."

You're still groggy and already half-asleep but you just make sure to check that it's okay. "Not time to get up?"

"Not time to get up," Katrina confirms, easily manoeuvring you like you're a puppet so you can be in a more comfortable position.

It's hardly the first time that you've shared a bed with her (or fallen asleep on her at all as you do that frequently on the coach) and it's easy to get you into a position that will have you sleep through the night.

You don't fight against her at all. You just allow yourself to be moved around and you yawn as you lay more fully against her body, your hand coming up to rest at the collar of her pyjama shirt.

"Night, Mini," You say even though you're almost completely back to sleep again.

Katrina looks at you, shaking her head fondly before turning back to the camera with a smile. She gives it a thumbs up. "The kiddo's back to sleep."

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 2)

For any partnership to work, communication is key.

More self-indulgent trash for the soul.

PART: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Nothing worth mentioning.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

It seemed infinitesimal: a single apple missing from the vast pool of resources you'd amassed over the years. Barely a drop in the metaphoric ocean and you'd treated it as such. At first.

A simple miscount, you'd reasoned. Not even you, with your convenient auto-sorting ability nor years of modern schooling, was immune to the inevitably of human error.

Days passed. Nothing much changed. Except that it did.

One mistake was expected. Two was acceptable. But Three? Four? You had your suspicions, but you'd pushed them aside and carried on as usual. Ignoring the cold pit opening in your stomach with each misplaced object. Every inconceivable miscount that only seemed to pile into a whirlwind of inevitability.

It escalated, because of course it would.

When one of your swords disappeared, you ignored the thundering of your heart. When your leftover meat skewers were suddenly two less? You balled your hands in your lap to prevent them from shaking.

Then, a week after the towers rose, your warm doublet vanished right off your back, leaving you suddenly in the plain clothes beneath. You stopped paying attention to the world for a while after, taking deep breaths to ease the tension in your body.

Once able to draw breath more freely, you put on your significantly less warm overshirt and pressed onward. Stopped at the nearest stable (Dueling Peaks, hours off of your intended route), ignored your guard's concerned (annoyed in Adino's case) stares and rented three beds for the night.

It took a long time for sleep to take you, but eventually you succeeded.

When you opened your eyes it was early morning, but still later than you'd usually be up by. The stable master was just starting his day, eating a quick breakfast of eggs and porridge. You should have been gone long before anyone else in the tent had even left their beds.

Your guard, Skims, glanced over at you from his own bed, concern evident on his weathered, weary face. He must have noticed the change in your breathing as you woke. You could see the question in his eyes, the way his brows rose just slightly and his mouth quirked.

You gave him a small shake of the head, a tired smile, and he nodded in understanding before rolling out of bed with a dramatic groan. It pulled a snort from you and you just caught the edge of a satisfied smile at the corner of his lips.

Man needed another raise. Fourth one this year but his loyalty and care was well worth the expense.

With that thought you pulled yourself from bed, fighting against the spring morning chill as you removed the covers from your sleep warmed body. Putting your feet to the ground was misery, and pulling away from the plush bedding a test of your resolve.

Beside you Skims was smirking in his tired way, knowing full well just how deeply the hyrulian cold effected you. His own metabolism kept him damn near toasty in all but the harshest climates, and he took quiet glee in watching you huff and silently whine against the nip of crisp morning air.

You cast a tired eyed glare up at him and he chuckled, knowing what you were thinking. He was right, for the record. You were thinking about how sweet revenge would be the next time you made for Gerudo.

Scratch that. Skims would be all too pleased to be back in that forsaken desert. Would even request a few days off to visit his three (that's right, three) gerudo baby mama's and four daughters.

You didn't think about it too much. It wasn't your business, and as far as you knew, all participants were happy with the arrangement. It wasn't your concern.

You sighed, taking the loss for what it was. Skims, at least, had the grace to not voice it aloud. Though you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him well enough that it hardly mattered.

"I'll let Adino know we'll be heading for Hateno soon." He offered in the way of a peace offering, and at your nod he slipped out of the stable entryway without another word.

You stared after him, taking in the red-tinted dawn light bathing the world beyond. Stealing yourself against the persistent drafts leaking through the open tent flaps you began to ready yourself for the day.

You wondered if Link was okay. You were glad he had something warm to protect him through the night, even if it was at your expense.

As quickly as they'd come, you pulled away from those thoughts before they could fully take hold. Therein lies the path to lunacy, and bankruptcy.

The man now had access to your entire inventory, and if current happenings had told you anything it was that he had absolutely no qualms in using it. Be that because of his amnesia, his situation, his personality or even a mix of the three, you didn't know. And honestly, it didn't matter. The ending was the same.

Loss of merchandise. Loss of revenue. Perhaps even the loss of your business. All things you'd very much like to avoid.

Once dressed you took a moment to recenter yourself.

The next few days were going to be long and arduous.

---

You'd made it to Hateno without further delay, though you had to travel for two days nonstop to make up for lost time (stopping only to refresh the horses, much to Adino's irritation). By the end of it Skims was looking more weary than usual and Adino (a skinny hyrulian teenager with dark hair and a sour expression) more surly.

You slipped them both a few extra rupees before giving them the week off until further notice and Adino seemed to forgive you a little. Skims had just smiled gratefully, and when Adino had slipped away into the nearest alley, you'd handed Skims another hundred.

The older hyrulian's raised brows was merely answered by a small smile and a shooing motion, to which he huffed a dry laugh and obeyed the dismissal. You returned his backwards wave with one of your own even though he didn't see it. Or maybe he did.

Hard to tell with that man.

After that, you wasted no time in getting back to business. You visited all the stores on the main strip, catching up on the latest news from Pruce and giving him first pick of your more uncommon stock. He was your most valued business partner after all, and the one who gave you your moniker.

You owed him so much for helping you find your feet in those overwhelming early days. He'd put so much time and effort into your integration, bought so many god-damned unnecessary apples because you'd had nothing else to offer.

First pick of the batch was the least you could do in return for his continued kindness.

"There's a new house for sale." Pruce said conversationally, leaning against the counter as he begun picking through his new merchandise.

"Oh?" You'd inquired back politely, not really interested but willing to hear out any bits of information that may one day prove useful to you.

"Yeah. The abandoned one across the old bridge. The council has decided to sell it. If it doesn't go within the month, it's getting demolished."

Something nagged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't pin it down before it slipped away. Instead of dwelling on it, you thanked him for the information and took your leave.

The rest of that afternoon was rather uneventful. You walked the village back roads with quiet nostalgia, gazing up at the newly blossoming apple trees and freshly grown grass with heartfelt fondness. Eventually you passed the budding fields nestled in the far back of the village. Beyond that, the solitary apple tree you'd first been enamored with when you'd first arrived in this world.

And there it stood, seemingly unchanged after five years. Always the early bloomer. And bearer.

You touched the weathered bark gently, letting the rough surface ground you once more in reality. "Hello. You're as magnificant as ever, my friend. May this year be fruitful for you." It was silent as expected, but you leaned your head to the trunk and sent your thanks to it regardless.

Your first lifeline, a silent reminder of everything this world had given you. Even if no one understood, this tree deserved your utmost respect.

You took your time walking back to the village proper, breathing in the fresh, cool air with renewed appreciation. You were reminded once more that this land, these people, this new life had been kind to you.

With the uncertainty of Link's awakening lingering in your mind, you needed that reminder now more than ever.

Feeling lighter than you had in weeks, out of curiosity you took the long way around to inspect the new property for sale. Not that you had any intention of buying, but it wouldn't hurt to look.

It did, in fact, hurt. Like the scene from an overly dramatic psychological thriller, the moment you laid eyes on the house you remembered.

50,000 Rupees. Bolson. Link. The deal.

During your other life, when this had all been just a game, you'd dismissed the initial offer the first time you'd talked to Bolson. He'd then presented a discounted offer of 3000 and some odd amount of wood immediately after.

You'd never taken the first offer. It hadn't been practical for you at the time. You hadn't had the means to make that much rupees in such a short amount of time.

But Link had no limitations this go around.

He had your checkbook at his fingertips and no issue utilizing it.

50,000 rupees.

50 Thousand rupees.

Fifty Thousand rupees.

Fuck...

---

A moblin lumbered about the dense forest in slow, stumbling steps, sniffing at the air in search of its hidden adversary. It snorted, picking up an acorn and huffing at it inquisitively, tossing it away when it gave it no leads.

Hidden in the topmost branches of an elder tree, Link scrolled through his Sheikah slate, unbothered. Not much of anything felt threatening to him in these parts, not with the stash of weaponry and armor sets he'd found in his slate's inventory.

Especially not with the fairies stored away in there. 249 to be exact. Formerly 252.

Not for the first time he wondered who the slate belonged to before him. It most certainly had an owner at some point, if the sheer amount of useful items within it was anything to go by.

Had they died? He hoped not. That didn't seem right to him, though he couldn't pinpoint why he thought this.

Honestly, he didn't know much of anything. He just knew he was happy to have all these useful things waiting for him when he...woke up.

He wasn't sure what he'd have done if he'd started out with nothing. Not even memories of what to do to sustain and better himself.

He pulled a honey candy from the slate and popped it in his mouth as he continued to scroll, ignoring the moblin stomping around the base of the tree. It'd never find him anyway, simple-minded as it was. He hummed in happiness as the sweet treat began to melt on his tongue, ears twitching with delight.

After a time, he eventually made it near the end of the list (pulling some fire chuchu jelly from it) and was about to take care of his unwelcome guest. Until he noticed something off.

Some of the items near the end of the list looked fewer then before. Not just fewer, in fact. Some were gone entirely.

Link tilted his head, bright blue eyes widening with interest, candy held forgotten between his teeth. His breath hitched a bit, something warm and fierce growing rapidly in his chest as he noted more and more discrepancies he'd failed to notice before.

He spit the candy out and it hit the moblin on the head, causing it to growl lowly and whip it's head around in search of its assailant. Link wasn't paying attention to that though. That wasn't important.

At the very end of the inventory list he found a note. A simple slip of paper with his name emblazoned on it with black ink.

His heart begun race at the sight of it.

This was it. Proof that this slate had belonged to someone before. No. That there was someone, right now, who had access to the same technology, was bound to the same destiny.

They knew his name. They knew he was there in the world, and they were reaching out to him.

He wasn't alone. They're alive. They're real.

He was not alone anymore.

He wasted no time in taking the note from the inventory, face lighting up with awe as he took in the contents of the paper.

A dozen fire jellies, a torch and a piece of flint made quick work of the moblin, ripping it apart in a flash of light so suddenly it hadn't even the chance to properly squeal in terror.

Link paid its abruptly silenced death throes no mind. Instead, he jumped from the tree with one powerful leap, snapping his glider open to soar over the valley laid out far below.

He had no time for distractions now. He had to get to Kakariko as soon as possible, find this Impa woman and get directions to Hateno.

The voice in his head would have to wait a little longer. This Calamity guy too. Right now he had more pressing matters.

He needed get to Hateno. Where his new home was. Where their home was.

---

Link,

There is a house waiting for you in Hateno. Present this Proof of Purchase to the Village Council upon arrival.

Be sure to inform me before making any purchases exceeding 10,000 rupees. Use this note system to relay details.

If applicable, forward a list of necessary items and I will precure them for you.

Let's work well together. I look forward to doing business with you.

Your's truly,

AM

---

Must return to the shadows to recharge and recoup. (I lied. I stayed up editing this instead of sleeping. Don't post tired, you make lots of errors.)

[munsonsmixtapes]

Soon You'll Get Better

Evan "Buck" Buckley x fem!reader

summary: you and Buck decide to keep your pregnancy a secret until the time is right, but an accident makes it all come out and everyone comes together to comfort the two of you

word count: 4k

cw: graphic description of a car accident and injuries, hurt/comfort, Buck has panic attack

part one part two part three part five part six

Things with you and Buck had been perfect since you had made amends in your apartment. Your pregnancy was a little secret between the two-well, the two of you and Athena and Scarlett-and you had planned on keeping it that way until you were far along enough to where a miscarriage wouldn’t be an issue. You felt horrible for keeping such big news from your uncle, but you were just trying to take the proper precautions. 

You had been staying at Buck’s more often than Scarlett’s so the two could be in your own little world with your baby. You’d make meals together as you danced around the kitchen to whatever playlist Buck had on and he’d spin you around, pulling you into kiss after kiss, telling you how grateful he had been for you and for the baby. It seemed like he talked to your stomach more than he would to you and that was more than okay with you.

He’d insist on laying on your stomach while the two of you watched tv after a long day of work for the both of you and he’d tell the baby about his day and you’d scratch his head as he did so, always feeling like you were going to cry as you watched him. If he was like that with your unborn child, you knew that he was going to be the best dad once the baby finally came.

Athena had told you that you had to be the one to tell Bobby about your pregnancy, so he was very much still in the dark as far as the topic was concerned. You weren’t showing yet, but every time you were around him, you were paranoid that he somehow knew your secret. So, you resorted to wearing big cardigans or holding a pillow in front of your stomach when you sat down on their couch or one of the chairs. 

After you got settled in, Bobby and Athena insisted on having weekly dinners with you and it was becoming even harder to hide your growing stomach. But you tried your best, knowing that you just had to hold on a bit longer before you could find out the sex of the baby and then you and Buck were going to make an announcement to the rest of the 118. 

It was the night of the week when you went over to Bobby’s for dinner and he had you pick up a dessert on your way there, but you had decided to show up early so you could talk to Athena before Bobby got home for work. 

As soon as you got in the car, you noticed that Buck was calling you that, signaling that he had just gotten to work. It seemed like he was always calling you when they were just sitting at the firehouse and you hardly minded. His coworkers did, though. Always rolling their eyes at him and even going as far as making bets to see how many times he’d call you during one shift. So far, the record was twenty-seven. 

“Hey,” you picked up and Buck let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know why he was always so worried that something was going to happen to you or the baby. Maybe that was why he always called so much. To give himself a peace of mind. 

“Hi,” Buck replied, a bright smile appearing on his face. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, but you’ll be at Bobby and Athena’s for dinner, right?” Just as you pulled out of the parking garage, you noticed that it was raining hard which was something that you hated to drive in. It was always unpredictable and accidents seemed inevitable so you tried to avoid driving in it as much as possible. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, then let out a sigh, moving over to the kitchen so everyone couldn’t hear him. “When are we going to tell them? Bobby keeps looking at me like he knows something and I’m honestly becoming afraid of him.” He eyed the man who was sipping on his coffee while talking to the other members of the 118 as they all sat at the table. Bobby was getting suspicious and Buck could see it.

“Bobby wouldn’t hurt a fly, you know that,” you told him as you turned into traffic, finding yourself at a red light. The rain was coming down harder and it was getting more difficult to see which was worrying you. “And we will tell them when we find out the sex.”

“Sleeping with you was one thing, but if he knows that I got you pregnant, he’ll have my head.” Buck wasn’t scared that Bobby would hurt him, but more to give him a lengthy lecture and Buck would rather clean the bathrooms of the fire house every single day of his life than get yet another lecture from Bobby. Especially when that lecture centered around his sex life.

“Baby, I think you’re being a bit dramatic,” you let out a chuckle as the light turned green and you pressed on the gas, maybe going a little too fast as you tried to get to Athena’s as quickly as possible to get out of the rain. 

“You realize he’s going to want to talk to the both of us, right? That’s why he invited me over for dinner too.” 

“I don’t know why you’re so scared, Evan. It’s just Bobby. And Athena will be there to back us up. You know that. Just take some deep breaths, okay?” You asked as you got to another light, but quickly passed it as it turned red, not wanting to sit in traffic any longer, especially since LA traffic was a nightmare and rain made it even worse. 

You were going a little faster than you should have and soon enough, you were starting to hydroplane, your car spinning out of control as you tried to take your control back. But the car had a mind of its own as it spun around to face traffic for a split second until it turned off the road and slid down the grass that was to the left of it. 

You were screaming into the phone, telling Buck what was happening, but everything you were saying was unintelligible on the other line. Buck wasn’t sure what was going on, but it definitely wasn’t good and he was becoming scared for you. The last thing he heard was you screaming his name before he heard a loud crash. 

Your car slammed into a tree, crunching the front bumper. The force in which your car hit the tree knocked you unconscious as your head hit the steering wheel hard before the airbags deployed. You laid there as Buck yelled into the phone, trying to get your attention, but it was no use. You were out cold. 

Hearing Buck’s urgency, the other members of the 118 turned to him, wondering what was going on. He hung up the phone and pocketed it before rushing over to Bobby to tell him that he needed to go find you. 

“What’s going on, Buck,” Hen asked  as Buck approached the table. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. 

“It’s y/n,” Buck replied. “I was just on the phone with her and all I heard was screaming and then a loud crash. And she wouldn’t respond when I called her name. I have to see her, Cap.” 

“I’m sure she’s fine, Buck,” Chimney gave Buck’s shoulder a pat. 

“Yeah, you probably just thought you heard something,” Hen agreed. Why was everyone brushing him off? He knew what he heard and clearly it was an emergency. If he didn’t get to you quick, you could have been dead. And Buck would have been damned if he let that happen to you.

“Bobby, you don’t understand. You have to bench me today.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to do his job if he was worrying about you the whole day and being a firefighter, he couldn’t afford to be distracted. He just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay and then he’d come back in time to respond to the next call. 

“No can do today, Buck,” Bobby shook his head as he stood up from the table to take his empty coffee mug to the sink. “I let you leave here a couple of weeks ago because of her and I can’t let you again today. You’ll see her at dinner.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the siren went off and he begrudgingly followed Bobby to the engine, worrying about nothing but you the entire way there. What he had heard wasn’t good and your screams along the loud crash replayed in his head on a torturous loop the entire ride to the scene.

It looked like a pretty bad car accident from what he could see. Rain was still pouring down on the city and Buck assumed that was the cause of the accident. There was a huge pile up and police had blocked off the intersection where the big part must have happened. The crew went up and down the line to check on every vehicle that was affected in the accident and thankfully, none of them had been life threatening. 

As Buck helped Eddie remove a man from his car that had been completely crushed in the pile up, he couldn’t help but worry that you were in the accident, but Eddie assured him that you weren’t. That he was just paranoid and he wasn’t making him think rationally. They got the man on a board and carried him to an available gurney where he was rolled to the ambulance. 

While that was happening, Hen and Chimney got to the intersection and noticed that the guard rail had been driven through and looked down in the grass to see a vehicle had hit the tree that was down the hill. They made a beeline for it and Hen was the first to notice you in the driver’s seat. You were still unconscious with your head against the steering wheel and blood was pouring from the large gash on your forehead that was caused by a piece of glass that had swiped across it. 

Hen let out a gasp as she realized who you were and really hoped that Buck wasn’t around to see you. She ripped open the door that was a little bent from the accident and reached up to check your pulse, letting out a sigh of relief when she could feel your heartbeat. 

“I got a pulse!” She told Chimney then turned back to you, shaking your shoulder. 

“Y/n,” she called out to you “Y/n, can you hear me?” When there was no answer, she radioed that they needed a board and a collar and immediately. One of the firefighters from the other department rushed down with one and together, they got you onto the board and the two of them carried the board up the hill  where two paramedics were waiting with a gurney. 

They got you on it just in time for Buck to see you and he raced towards you, falling over his feet as he did so. Eddie was quick to help him up and he blocked Buck from getting to you, knowing that it would have been for his own good. He knew he wasn’t crazy. He knew it. And if he had left when he had wanted to, he would have been able to get to you in time before you had been knocked out. Okay, maybe that wasn’t true, but he was going to tell himself that it was. 

“Eddie, move, I have to get to her,” Buck yelled, trying to push Eddie out of the way as he watched Hen and Chimney push the gurney towards the ambulance. He pushed Eddie out of the way and moved to walk beside you, watching you lay there unconscious. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and Eddie held him back so they could put you in the back of the ambulance. 

“Eddie, let me go,” he tried to wriggle out of his grasp. “I have to go with her.” He could feel sobs trying to escape his throat and was making an attempt to choke them down. He’d wait to do that at the hospital, not wanting to let his emotions fully take over when he was on the job.

“You’re too hysterical right now, Buck,” Hen told him. “Take some deep breaths and you can go with Bobby to the hospital.” Both her and Chimney got into the ambulance and the door closed behind them. It took off down the road and Buck broke down right there, collapsing onto his hands and knees and Eddie was quick to comfort him, resting his hand on his back as Bobby approached the two of them once he was sure that everyone was accounted for. 

All he could see was Buck on his knees and in all of the chaos, it seemed that everyone neglected to tell him what exactly had happened to his niece. All he knew was that something was wrong. Very wrong. He raced over to the pair and placed a hand on Eddie’s back. The man turned to face him and his face went white as he realized that it was his captain. 

“What’s going on here? Is Buck okay?” Buck had been affected by losing people before, hell, they all had, but something was off. He had never cried like that over a stranger, even when he felt like it was his fault. 

“Cap…it’s y/n…her car hit a tree. She’s stable but unconscious. They’re taking her to Presbyterian.” Without a single word, Bobby pulled Buck to his feet and both he and Eddie took him to the engine where they all piled in, heading straight for the hospital.

 Eddie sat next to Buck, comforting him as well as he could, but all he could think about was what happened to Shannon. He was in Buck’s exact position, just responding to a call when he saw her in the middle of the road. But it wasn’t about him this time. It was about Buck and Bobby and he needed to be there for them in their time of need. He continued to rub Buck’s back and as he let him cry, knowing that anything he said wouldn’t get into his friend’s head, so he kept quiet. 

All Buck felt on the way to the hospital was guilt. If he hadn’t called you then you wouldn’t have gotten into the accident. All of your focus would have been on the road and then you wouldn’t have swerved or whatever happened. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t his fault, he was going to tell himself that it was. He was going to beat himself up about it for the rest of his life. 

As soon as the engine pulled up to the hospital, the three rushed inside just as your gurney was rolled inside. Both Bobby and Buck made a beeline for you, tears welling up in their eyes as they watched your lifeless looking, blood-stained face. They both went to follow you, but a nurse blocked their path, telling them that they weren’t allowed to see you just yet as you needed surgery to have the glass removed from the slice on your forehead. 

So, hours passed as the three men sat in the waiting room, wordlessly waiting to be able to see you and or hear about your condition. It didn’t seem like you had been hurt that badly so what was the hold up? Every second that passed, Buck had been thinking the worst. Were you okay? Was the baby? Oh god, nobody knew about the baby and you weren’t far enough along yet to be showing very much so it wouldn’t have been obvious. 

“Mr. Buckley?” A voice asked and all three men whipped around, quick to stand to their feet as the nurse approached them. 

“It looks like has a slightly sprained neck and received some stitches for the deep cut on her forehead. There is a small break in her left leg from where it slipped from the gas pedal, but it should heal in a few weeks. Y/n and the baby are going to be just fine, Mr. Buckley. You should be able to go and see her in just a few minutes.”

You were okay. You were okay. And so was the baby. Sure, you had some injuries, but they were going to heal and you’d be good as new in no time. At that point, Buck was never going to let you out of his sight again just so nothing like that ever happened again. He didn’t know what he would have done if he lost you. If Bobby lost you. 

“Thanks,” Buck replied as tried to process all of the information and the nurse turned to leave the waiting room as Bobby and Eddie turned to stand in front of him. Oh, he was definitely in for an earful. 

“Baby?” They asked in unison. Of course, they knew that you and Buck had slept together, but your pregnancy was definitely not something that had been mentioned to either of them.

“Yes,” Buck replied, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He had been carrying that secret for far too long for his liking and now that it was finally out in the open, he felt like he could finally breathe.

“So my niece is having a baby and neither of you thought I should know?” Bobby didn’t look angry, but disappointed and Buck actually thought that was worse. He did feel bad for keeping something like that for him, but ultimately wanted to leave that up to you since you were the one carrying the baby.

“I’m sorry. I just-we didn’t want to tell anyone too soon. We were going to wait until we found out the sex next week.” He was getting choked up. Even though everything was going to be okay, he still couldn’t help but be worried. That just seemed to be what he was feeling no matter what was going on. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Bobby gave Buck’s shoulder a squeeze before pulling him into a hug. Buck held onto him tight and let out the sobs that he had been holding while Bobby felt his own eyes getting misty. 

Eddie just stood there, watching two people that he really cared about share a moment and feeling relief that you were okay even though he didn’t know you very well. He really didn’t know how he would’ve been if something worse had happened to you. To see both Bobby and Buck in shambles would have absolutely broken him and he wasn’t sure he could’ve seen them like that. Just watching Buck break down as the ambulance drove off was enough to break Eddie’s own heart. 

Just as the men pulled away from each other, Hen and Chimney entered the waiting room with Maddie in tow. Buck made a beeline for her and was quick to pull her into a hug, so grateful that his sister could be there for him during this hard time. She said nothing but encouraging words to him as she squeezed him, assuring him that he was going to be okay. 

“How is she?” She asked once she pulled away, grabbing hold of Buck’s hands. 

“She’s stable. Her neck is sprained and she has a broken leg, but other than that she's going to be fine.” He began to pick at the skin around his nails as the anxiety ate at him, all of the horrible possibilities playing in his mind still. He could feel his chest getting tight like he was on the verge of a panic attack, but he couldn’t have everyone worrying about him too. You were the priority at the moment. He sat down in the nearest chair in a way that wouldn’t cause suspicion and Maddie sat next to him.

“Oh, thank god,” Maddie let out a sigh of relief. She knew just how much you had begun to mean to Buck in the short time that you had known each other and knowing that you were going to be okay made her feel so much relief. 

“And the baby’s okay too,” Buck added, watching his sister’s eyebrows shoot up, her hands flying to her mouth. She had her assumptions with the way you had been behaving, but hearing that she was actually right was shocking. 

“A baby!” She exclaimed. “Buck, that’s amazing!” She pulled him into another hug, knowing that he was going to be the best dad. Seeing the way he had been with both Christopher and Jee-Yun, she was sure of it. Once she pulled away, she could see that he was still uneasy and reached over to give his back a rub. 

Not long after, the nurse told Buck that he could go back and see you and despite wanting Bobby to come with him, he knew he had to do it alone. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. You were asleep so it wasn’t like he was going to have to say anything to you. That was the part he was most anxious about. When you woke up, what was he going to say to you? For the most part, the man never knew when to shut up, but now he was rendered absolutely speechless. 

Buck stood in front of the door and let his hand hover, watching it shake as he lowered it to the handle. He slowly pushed the door open and hesitantly entered the room, sticking his shaking hands into his pocket as you came into view. He took everything in a little bit at a time. First, he looked at you, taking in your injuries: the giant scar along your forehead and your bruised cheek, the brace around your neck, and the cast that was on your left leg. Even though you were all banged up, Buck still thought you were the most beautiful he had ever seen. 

His eyes moved to your stomach and it somehow seemed bigger than when he had seen you that morning. You were starting to show a little, but not enough that it was obvious that you were carrying a baby. He was still in shock that you were both okay considering how bad the crash seemed to be, especially the baby. He had taken care of multiple women who hadn’t been as lucky, but you were. So much so that he felt lucky too. 

Buck sat in the chair that was next to your bed and scooted it so that it was almost right up against the bed. He then took your hand that was nearest to him in both of his and pressed a kiss to his before bringing it back down to rest on the bed. He gave it a squeeze then let his gaze fall back on your face. He could feel tears well up in his eyes and he wasn’t going to hold them back. He was allowed to cry and had to remind himself of that. 

“Hey, baby,” he said, reaching up and letting his hands graze over the bandage on your forehead. “It’s me,” he sniffed. “I’m here. I’m always here. And I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be right here until you wake up and I’m going to be right here when it’s time for us to go home. You’re so strong and you’re going to get through this. You’re going to be just fine.” One of his tears trickled down onto your gown and he decided that it was time for him to sit back so he just settled for holding your hand, perfectly content with just sitting there and watching you sleep.

He could feel himself drifting from all of the emotions and a long shift and eventually he closed his eyes right in the chair, your steady beat of heart on the monitor being the thing that lulled him to sleep. For once, he was able to sleep soundly and wasn’t having any nightmares about you or the baby. It all just a lot of nothing going on in his head and that was exactly the way he liked it.

Just when Buck was deep in sleep, he was awoken to a loud, consistent beeping from your heart monitor. He sat up and could see that you were flatlining and just when he was about to get someone, nurses and doctors rushed inside and ushered him out of the room. The door was slammed closed in his face before he could process what was happening and he quickly moved to the little window to see them starting compressions, but you still laid there, lifeless. They tried and tried again before pulling out the defibrillator. 

It was as if everything was moving in slow motion as the machine shocked you, but you still weren’t waking up. They all turned in Buck’s direction as they shook their heads and he just backed up from the window, falling to the floor as he lost his footing. A sob raked through his body as he sat there, crying that he had lost the one woman he thought he could keep along with the baby he loved more than anything in the world. You both were gone and this time, there was nothing he could do to save you.

[cheriladycl01]

Back in my Day - Fernando Alonso x AustralianOlympicBoxing! Reader

Plot: Becoming a full time paddock WAG after pregnancy and a bad boxing injury and how you wouldn’t change anything in your life!

“Do you ever miss it?” He asks as he joins you in the motor home after just going fastest in FP2. He starts to pull you into a little sweaty hug, which you don’t mind as your used to it with you both being athletes.

“Miss what?” You ask walking round cleaning up after your guys son and daughter who were currently out getting ice cream with the mechanics.

“The adrenaline of a fight, the way the gloves feel, the smell of the ring?” He asks with a distant look in his eyes.

“Of course I do, sometimes I wish I could go back just to see if I’ve still got it. But there’s more important things in my life now than boxing and … I’ve made my country proud. I want to focus on everything I missed out on when I was younger. I want to see the world with you and our kids and I want to be a present mum you know, not of fighting in a boxing ring every week” you sigh, squatting while looking up at him, half cleaning half giving him your attention.

A loud sigh comes from his as he sets himself on the sofa.

“Why what’s got you thinking about this” you ask, standing up and taking a seat next to him with a pat on his thigh.

“I just … sometimes I think back to the incident with you and how worried I was seeing you that injured. I mean … I thought you died in that ring and I know it can’t be easy to watch me in the car and I’m just thinking maybe … maybe it’s time I think about retiring?” He asks almost quietly like he’s afraid to admit what he truly had been thinking.

“Fernando it wouldn’t surprise me if your 60 and racing and scaring the living daylights out of me” you laugh looking over him.

“I’m being serious, I’ve seen how … attentive you are with the kids … and me and I think it’s time I want that life too. I’ve been playing a F1 playboy for far to long. I want to come home, wherever that is as long as I’m with you, you are my home” he smiles and tears fill your eyes.

“Fernando I love you” you kiss him.

“How do you deal with not having it in your life anymore?” He asks into your neck, making it come out a bit muffled.

“Well I have a lot of other stuff that I focus on. And I still do it, I teach it in a gym to kids and I do training in our gym so it’s not fully gone. And the feeling of winning and improving after a loss is something that is more nostalgic than anything. I don’t miss it necessarily, but it’s nice to look back on and think of what I did. Winning gold twice and silver once!” You smile, looking up in a thoughtful way.

“Hmmmmm that sounds, kind of peaceful” he offers and you laugh a little.

“Yeah I guess you could say it is. But Fernando, racing is a part of you, like boxing IS a part of me. It never really leaves you, no matter whether that’s because you continue until you physically can’t and break the record for oldest racing driver, or you own a karting track in Spain and train the next generation … or you become a manager for our son who no doubt will be a world champion with the way he looks up to you or even doing a Nico Rosberg and become a journalist… but baby, the world of F1 will never ever leave you” you assure your husband.

“You’ve made me even more confused on my deduction now” he sighs laughing and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Well whatever that decision is, I’ll be here for you” you smile.

“You know, I remember that one time, I think it was the 2012 Olympics in London, before the accident when you were so convinced you weren’t going to get gold and then you just all of a sudden had this ambition in your eyes … what was that” he asks.

“You, honesty. Your pep talk” you smile kissing his cheek.

“What do you think I should do?” He asks looking at you with the face of a lost puppy.

“That’s not a choice I can make for you my love” you smile at him patting his head leaving him to his thoughts while you go to find the kids.

Fernando stays with his own thoughts for a little before he saunters out to go find you.

As he rounds a corner he sees you messing about with the kids and Lance and it’s a sight to behold. One he can’t help but think he misses far to often.

But was he truly ready to give up his career.

“Papa” your daughter cries running over to her father the 6 year old not knowing much better than to rush off into the busy paddock lane to get to her father.

“Hello beautiful” he smiles as he picks her up, nuzzling her nose with his doing an Eskimo Kiss that they had done since she was just a baby.

Once his son came up to him, offering him an ice cream, that was starting to melt a little and starting to tell him how amazing he raced today his choice was clearer than ever.

Family came first.

y/user

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial and astonmartinf1

y/user: Life Recently. Love my kids, guess the husband is okay 👍🏼

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astonmartinf1: MOTHER 👏🏼

fan1: omg I want her life so bad

fernandoalo_oficial: my gorgeous wife! I will ignore the caption!

-> y/user: you know I joke 🥰

fan2: her and Fernando bantering makes my life

lancestroll: when will I get to see the kids again!

-> y/user: next race my first son 🤣🫶🏼

-> fan3: Y/N and Fernandos first child Lance Alonso

hater1: gold digger

-> y/user: more like gold medalist … 🥇

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Back at it mate 🫶🏼 🇦🇺

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[ambcass]

can you do cobra kai characters with a cheerleader gf reader??

should be studying but...

a/n: im deadass ab to passout bru but wtvr i havent posted ina while ig... inbox is open btw :3 also this is not proof read D:

SPECIAL TAGS TO: @yippeeyoppee AND @humilityshown

ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ:

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜɪɴɢ: ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ: ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ:

Miguel! tried to make it obvious that he liked Reader but she mistook his feelings for friendship. Poor baby got friend-zoned so many times because of how obvious Reader was:( One time, Miguel bought Reader followers (specifically roses) before their school's rally and Reader told him what of a supportive friend he was. But he didn't give up. He tried his hardest to let Reader know that he liked her, regardless if she felt the same way back, he would have gotten the message sent out. Reader did her fair share of kindness though. When she can, she'd go to the dojo Miguel is in and cheer him on like it was just practice.

Reader was so relieved when Miguel expressed his feelings towards her. She always thought that he was just being nice and that his actions shouldn't get into her head. Miguel brought her a basket he made with all the things she liked (candy, stuffed animals, drinks, etc.) and a lego flower bouquet.

Miguel! always goes to Reader's rallies to cheer her on. After the rallies, he would praise her on how good she did and how she should consider doing karate with him. He's scared that she'll get hurt but he knows that she can do it.

Eli! first laid eyes on Reader when the cheer squad was practicing after school. He saw a cute girl land a cartwheel with a smile and knew he was in love. He was just "Eli" when he met Reader but as soon as he turned into "Hawk" he automatically turned into a cocky bastard. He grew closer with her and always tried impressing Reader with his Karate moves but she wasn't always impressed. Many girls had a thing for Eli and tried making a move with him but it never worked. He would always find a way to sneak you back into his conversations.

Eli! confessed to you when the two of them were at a party and he was so drunk he just started talking random shit. Reader couldn't care less about what he was saying until her name was brought up. She took out her phone and started recording whatever he was about to say.

"Reader is the girl I have a crush on. Don't tell her though...I'm just so jealous of those ass jocks that she has to cheer for. She's so pretty, smart, and independent. Gosh, I wish she was mine."

Eli! had a smug look on his face but reeked of alcohol. Reader smiled and flicked Eli's forehead, telling him to go to sleep. He replied with "Yes, ma'am" and did as told. She kissed him on the forehead and slept beside him. When the both of them woke up, Reader showed Eli the recording and asked him if there was anything he would like to tell her. He was so shy but he was able to admit his feelings for her. The two then shared a passionate kiss and cuddled for a long time before someone told them to get off the couch. Hey, they were still at a party after all.

Eli! always asks Reader to accompany him to parties. Not only does that keep the unwanted girls away from Eli, but he feels he's safe when he's keeping Reader safe. Plus he wants to have fun with his girl, maybe have a drink or two. The only thing he absolutely hates is when older guys, guys that aren't even in high school anymore, try to hit on Reader like she doesn't have a boyfriend that is ready to kick ass with her. Otherwise, Eli wouldn't ask any girl in the world to party with him but his one and only girlfriend.

Robby! didn't think he would have a chance with her. Due to his financial and overall living conditions, he didn't think it was possible. Reader was just too popular for him. Any interactions with her would result in Robby trying to hide his feelings but he fails every time with the pink shade that appears on his cheeks and that soft smile he always gives Reader when he talks to her is all it'll take to make Reader realize that he wants to be more than friends with her.

Robby! asked Reader to be his girlfriend in the most romantic way possible. He got tips from Daniel and TRUST me when I say that they worked. Which really surprised Reader since how closed off Robby usually was Robby and Reader were hanging out during the Fourth of July at a park waiting for the fireworks show to start. He brought chips, sodas, and a handwritten note. A few seconds before the show started, he handed the note to her and asked her to open it. The note read, "Roses are red. Violets are blue. The sky is beautiful but not as beautiful as you". As she read the note, the fireworks started to bang. She looked at Robby with so much awe as he asked, "Reader, may I please be your boyfriend?" She cupped his face and Robby leaned in for a kiss. A kiss under the fireworks.

Reader doesn't mind at all that Robby doesn't take her to big fancy dates. In fact, she prefers small dates instead of big ones such as crafting, picnics, or even hanging in his house. Well, his mom's house. The second you two hang out in Johnny's small ass apartment, then Johnny would burst into the room while handing Robby a condom and asking him to stay safe. Reader can't stop laughing every time this happens. Robby is just annoyed that his dad thinks he would do sexual activities in his house.

"Better safe than sorry" Johnny threw a condom packet at Robby and closed the door shut. Robby's face turned red and threw the condom in the trash. Reader was just there cackling non-stop while Robby seemed like he didn't want to talk to his dad ever again.

Demetri! like Robby didn't think that Reader would ever like him back at all. His little phase with Yasmine faded quickly when he found out what a bitch Yasmine was to literally everyone (pls pretend that this is canon). He was just a nerdy lanky freak who hung out with the "boy with the lip" who later left him just to be cool. Reader was there for Demetri when Eli left him. She wanted him to be beside her at all times. Reader invited Demetri to watch her practice. When he does come, he would sit on the bleachers reading comics or doing homework. Anytime he sees a couple in the comic book he's reading, he would imagine that it's you two together, fighting crime. (or wtvr they're doing)

Demetri! is a shy baby and was practically clueless about how to ask Reader out. He thought of everything but he was either doing too little or too much. He didn't want her to think he was a loser geek that everyone made fun of. He wanted to be more than that. More than what everyone pictures him to be. His confession was simple. He slid a note into your locker stating that you should meet him after school, in the fields for something.

Once reader got there, she was in her cheer uniform and holding her silly pom poms. Demetri looked down at her with a deep blush and it was easy to make out that he was sweating. Demetri couldn't get his words out but before he was able to make words out, Reader cut him off,

"Would you like to go out sometime?" She asked him. A shocked expression appeared on his face. "Uhm sure, ya'know I was gonna ask you that". He was smiling hard, like really hard. Reader chuckled and held out her hand. "Well Demetri, care to accompany me in practice," she said in an old-fashioned tone. He held her hand in response, "Why yes Reader, I would love to" he raised his brow and the two laughed it off walking back to the gym.

People didn't get why Reader would date someone like Demteri but she didn't care. Any time he came back from Comic-Con and bought something back for her, she'd wear it to school. Her friends would look at her funny and ask "Why would you wear nerdy shit like that? You look like a geek" but Reader wouldn't care and that's what Demetri loved about her the most. Just because she was popular, it didn't mean that she couldn't be herself around her friends. Demetri loved teaching Reader nerdy things about him, such as the difference between DC and Marvel, which animes were "peak", and board games to play. Sometimes Reader would try to teach him how to do stunts but that obviously results him into ripping his pants.

[foreingersgod]

If you can could you do a Caitlin Clark x reader with angst? Thank youuu

votes are in! we’re going with angst to fluff for this one!

Regrets . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin says something to you during an argument that she immediately regrets

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

caitlin was a phenomenal athlete. she was good at what she did, blowing everyone away and breaking records, all while doing well in school and balancing the other parts of her life. you absolutely admired her for it, amazed by how perfect a person could be. she was so good to you, as her girlfriend, giving you equal support and love.

you on the other hand, were never an athlete, your dream was to pursue writing or journalism. you loved to write more than anything in the world and you knew from a very young age that that was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. you often wrote small stories in your free time or touched up on trending articles, trying to write as much as you could. throughout your college years, you’ve been interning and taking classes to get you into a good position for your career.

you’ll admit, it was a very competitive career to go into, but you were determined to succeed. caitlin was always at your side, too, rooting for you every step of the way.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it was a tuesday night, you were at home cleaning and fixing up dinner. caitlin was still out, something about a meeting with a few scouts. she didn’t say much about and said that she’d tell you all about it when she got home.

so you waited patiently, finishing up dinner and waiting for cait to get home. you pulled out your laptop while you awaited her arrival, beginning to work on an important paper you were writing for your journalism course. as you typed away at the keyboard, you felt your phone vibrate. you pulled out your phone, curious to see who was texting you.

cait <3: really big news when i get home, can’t wait to tell you

your heart started to beat a little faster, eager to hear what it was. you knew how hard she had been working to get the attention of some of these scouts so you hoped it was finally paying off for her.

as you were finishing up a paragraph for your article, you heard the lock of the front door jostling, hinges creaking as it opened. your eyes darted to the door right away, watching as caitlin walked in, positively glowing. she hung up her jacket and took off her shoes all with a huge smile on her face. you found yourself smiling too, her happiness contagious.

“hey, babe” you swooned “how was the meeting? big news?”

she came over to you, standing behind the counter opposite of you chair. “YN, it was life changing! you’re never gonna believe it, it’s like a dream come true”

her eyes were wide with excitement, still shaking from receiving the news. she had you anxious as you waited for her to spill. you closed your laptop half way to give her full attention, pushing it aside.

“what?” you questioned “the anticipation is killing me!”

“well,” she took a breathy pause for dramatic effect “a few of the scouts that i was talking to approached me after the meeting. they were telling me about how they’re recruiting for the women’s olympic basketball team…and long story short, they want me on the team! baby im playing in the olympics!”

“holy shit, you’re kidding!” you leaped out of your seat, rushing around the counter to congratulate her “that’s amazing, oh my god, i’m so proud of you!”

you hugged her tightly, smoothing your hands across her back.

“thank you, i’m freaking out still, it’s so surreal” she felt like crying “we’re going paris, YN!”

she was still on cloud nine, starting to text friends and family to share the good news, but you had stepped back thinking you heard her wrong. you? the both of you? paris? while you were aware that the events would be an international occasion, you hadn’t realized it would be that far away. you had just assumed you would do a bit of long distance for the time being, caitlin going to play and you staying here to take care of things and focus on journalism. noticing you had pulled away, caitlin sent her last text and turned back to you.

“hey are you ok?” she asked “went all quiet on me”

“hm? oh yea i just,” you started picking at your nails, nervous to bring up the conversation “it’s just that you said ‘we’?”

her infectious laugh rang through your living room “of course, you’re my girl, i want you there with me”

“cait, you know i’d love to be there for you in person and come with but…but i can’t just go babe” you said, apologetically.

your entire soul shattered seeing the look on her face as you broke the news. she looked defeated, trying to laugh it off as a weird joke “what do you mean you can’t go?”

“don’t get upset” you said, sensing the tension growing “but a trip like that is expensive, and there’s things that i need to take care of, especially if you’re going to be gone…and i’m just in the middle of a really important part of my path in writing…i need to be able to focus on that right now. but we can do it, you know? we’d only be doing the long distance thing for a little bit!”

“are you serious?” she tried to keep her voice calm, instead raising it slightly “this is a huge deal for me and you don’t even want to be there with me?”

“that’s not true! i would do anything to go, but like i said, that’s an insanely expensive trip and i’m in the middle of trying to pursue this journalism thing so i-”

“you’re not going so you can write your silly papers?” she ridiculed “fine, it’s expensive, we can work around that, but you’re seriously telling me you’re not doing this so you can write?”

you were dumbfounded, her calling your passion just some ‘silly papers’ made you sick. you’ve been pushing yourself to every possible limit to work towards this, and you thought she was supportive of that, i guess this was bringing out her true colors.

“silly papers? caitlin, pursuing journalism is my dream, you know that” your nose scrunching in frustration “i’ve always been supportive of your dream, i’m constantly putting my own things aside so you can continue to do this”

“yea well that’s because i’m actually good at what i do” she snapped. her voice was laced with spite, gaze shooting daggers into yours. “i’ve got a real job, with real responsibilities, YN”

your body was frozen, feet glued to the ground, limbs unable to move. the way she was talking to you hurt, any support that you thought she had for you was gone out the window. you wanted to scream, storm out of the house and slam the door.

“that’s really what you think, hm?” you sneered “that i don’t have a real job? that i’m not good at the one thing i’m passionate about? jesus fucking christ caitlin.”

somewhere in your body, you found the courage to move. without letting her get another word in, you grabbed your laptop and stormed up the stairs into your shared bedroom. she could sleep on the couch tonight.

the second you made it up the stairs, you slammed the door and collapsed onto your bed. you were seething with rage. for her to stand in front of you, after you’ve put your heart and soul into helping caitlin succeed, was like a punch to the gut. she knew how hard you had been working to make this happen, how many classes and workshops, how many late nights and meetings with publishers. she knew about it all and she still had the audacity to say such a nasty thing.

you pulled the comforter up over your shoulders, hiding below it, and sobbed in your pillow. you didn’t even bother trying to finish your article tonight, your headache too painful from the tears. about an hour went by, you had assumed, the sun going down outside your bedroom window. not once did you hear anything from caitlin so you thought she had left to blow off steam or made herself comfortable on the couch.

then there was a knock at your bedroom door. she didn’t have to knock, in reality, it was her room too. you didn’t answer at the raps at the door, nor when she called out your name. you didn’t have anything to say.

“YN, can we talk?” her voice muffled from behind the wooden barrier “i shouldn’t have said those things, i didn’t mean it”

you stood up, opening the door for her and resuming your position on the bed, pulling up the covers once more. she followed suit and sat down at the foot of the bed next to you. still silent, you waited for her to continue.

“what i said was uncalled for” her voice cutting through deafening silence “none of it was true”

“so why’d you say it?” she could tell you had been crying right away, hearing the stuffiness in your nose. it made her stomach turn knowing she was the reason why.

“i was mad. the second i got the news, all i could think about was taking you with me. i had the whole thing planned out. but i didn’t even consider what it would mean for you, to drop everything and go to paris with me. and that was incredibly unfair of me to assume.”

you remained silent, listening to her confession.

“baby, i don’t think your papers are silly and i don’t think it’s not a real job” her hands found the way to your legs under the blanket, rubbing at them tenderly to try and comfort you “i’m so amazed by how talented you are. you’ve put in so much effort into making a name for yourself and i admire you for that, i know you’re going to do amazing things. what i said was cruel and purely out of spite and it won’t ever happen again, i’m so sorry”

you sniffled, wiping the rest of your tears as you sat up against the headboard. she had looked horrible when you looked at her. hair messy from running her hands through it, face pale and flushed, it didn’t take much to realize how bad she felt for lashing out at you.

“i know you’re mad, and i’m upset that i can’t go either,” you spoke up “but if you’re going to make a habit out of saying things like that to me, i don’t know if-”

“i swear to god i’m not! that was a shitty slip up, but please, i’m being honest when i say that i’ll never do that again. i have never once believed that what i said was true, im so so sorry” she pleaded, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“i forgive you, but it’s going to take a lot for you to make it up to me”

“anything, i’ll do anything” she said “i can’t live with myself knowing that i made you upset. whatever it takes to gain your trust back, i’ll fucking do it”

you let out a small chuckle, knowing the real cait was already shining through. the caitlin that would go to the ends of the earth for you. her hand was still gripping yours, drawing small shapes around your knuckles and kissing them reassuringly. you tugged her towards you making her fall into the sheets beside you. you reached out, caressing her long strands of hair, silently admiring her.

the two of you remained there in bed without saying anything. the sun lingered in its final hour in the sky as you both soaked in each other’s presence.

you couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

[butdaddyilovehimmm]

t's marvey fic rec list!

These are mostly smut (bdsm / d/s), fluff is in pt. 2 in the reblogs

Long Fics (50k +)

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[oneforthemunny]

What would a fluffy sweet morning with Nepotism!baby, Rockstar!eddie and baby Persephone be like? Because I am in the mood of some dad!eddie and sweet baby sephy moments after rereading the vacation one shot

also in a fluffy domestic kinda mood so enjoy <3 everyone's favorite rockstar dilf!!

"Babe, look." Eddie's laugh floated through the kitchen, wrapping around you and leaving you warm with affection.

You followed his soft laughs and coos into the living room, finding Eddie and Persephone on their tummies. Persephone on her little mat, bright eyes looking up at Eddie's.

"Look at you. You're gettin' good at this, Sephy." Eddie cooed, a waterfall of curls hiding his features, but you knew he was grinning, features bright and beaming.

"What's she doing?" You hummed, sinking to your knees.

"She's holding her head up longer." Eddie grinned proudly, eyes dazzling when they met yours. Seeing him and Sephy side by side like this, you could really see all the features she'd gotten from him. Her Daddy's twin, that was for sure.

"Is she?" You gasped, features lighting up in an exaggerated way that had Persephone gurgling, lips rounding in a baby grin.

Five months had flown by. You and Eddie both were so sure, when you first brought her home, that you'd never survive the newborn stage. Now, she was growing at light speed, "growing like a weed" Wayne had declared the last time he came to visit, just a few weeks ago. He wouldn't believe how much she'd grown since then.

"Watch," Eddie smiled, a tattooed finger reaching out to tickle Persephone's pudgy little chin. "Are you gonna show Mama? Show her how big and strong you are." He babbled.

Your heart swooned, deep dives of adoration. You knew Eddie would be a good dad, but even then, he'd exceeded your expectations. Fatherhood was made for him, you'd decided. He embraced it so naturally.

Your hand slid down his back, warm from sleep, watching Persephone push up, lifting her little head to look at both of you. "Say something." Eddie muttered towards you.

"Look at you." You coo, waving your fingers to capture her attention. "The strongest baby in the whole wide world." You grinned, eyes cutting to Eddie's.

He grinned, a half smirk, eyes cutting back to yours. An inside joke, one between the two of you from Persephone's first hours on earth. Laid up in the Malibu home bed, after the home birth, fawning and admiring the tiny bundle of joy that was all yours. She'd reached out to grab Eddie's finger, tiny hand curling around his ring finger. Eddie, still delirious with emotions of the day.

"She's got a fuckin grip," Eddie declared with a watery laugh. "The strongest baby in the world, holy shit. I'm not kiddin', Ifeel like newborns should not be this strong."

You'd laughed until you cried, delirious and exhausted and so, so in love. The joke had stuck long after that.

"She is." Eddie beamed, hand sliding over your knee affectionately, squeezing your calf gently. "She's trying to roll too. She wants to."

"Does she?"

"Yeah," Eddie nodded, clapping for Persephone when she put her head back down. "See? It's a record. She's going for the baby record. Gonna break it."

You giggled, Eddie picking up Persephone, rolling onto his back, placing her on his chest. She let out a deep baby laugh that had you both giggling, her tiny hands slapping against Eddie's chest, going straight for his hair.

"You two look just alike." You hummed, brushing Eddie's curls back, letting Persephone grab your fingers instead.

"No way," Eddie shook his head. "Looks like you, baby."

You scoff. "You don't have to lie to me." You mutter, leaning closer to Persephone. "You're your Daddy's twin, aren't you? Look just like him. I did all that heavy lifting and you look just like him. How's that fair, hm?" Your voice lilts into a high pitched baby talk that has her going crazy, squealing and babbling back on Eddie's chest.

"Don't worry," Eddie bounced Sephy, tilting his head back to look up at you. "Next one will look just like you, babe, promise." He winked, leaving you blistering.