#again: if you spoil me. hammers.

[transselkie]

Guess who started watching Jujutsu Kaisen 🩵

[ink-asunder]

Damn, being in the soul eater fandom literally spoiled me because everyone was so positive when they weren't being normal about things, but I swear you can't go two steps into the dunmeshi tag without seeing dumbass takes and discourse.

Like, the Soul Eater tag would have posts about how Liz is ace and the biggest fights would be about how well Kid would actually do in school if he was accommodated, but with dunmeshi it's like you see 3 posts calling out fan's racism against Toshiro right next to a racially insensitive post about Toshiro wherein an autistic fan projects onto their autistic golden boy Laios and unfairly villifies Toshiro for obviously being a Vile Toxic person for *checks notes* not adoring the autistic golden boy. Like do you hear yourself. Are you capable of consuming a media.

[werecreature-addicted]

I remember some of your posts about a minotaur who lived with a peasant girl, can I ask for something about that? If it's not a bother of courseDue to the life that the minotaur has had, its instincts never appeared, that is, it never went through a stage of heat due to the stress and abuse to which it was subjected, but now everything is different, it is calmer, more relaxed, and it began to pay attention to a girl, specifically the girl she lives with, and apparently her instincts are beginning to appear, her body asks her to "mate" with her partner, although it is difficult to control herself, plus they are nothing yet and the girl does not know that minotaurs also go through a hot season, and it's not like she was going to ask him that, it would be very strange xd

(imagine that poor cock crying to enter the girl, but he must hide it, even if it is uncomfortable)

Sam master list for previous parts.

under the cut because this is long...for me at least.

Normally when it came to the physically demanding chores around the farm Sam liked to do the heavy lifting, literally. You were stronger than you looked but you still didn't have the monstrous strength that he did, and even besides that, he liked to spoil you. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the way you sometimes watched him as he repaired the siding of a barn or hammered in a sense post. Something about the way your eyes followed him left a warm feeling in his belly. It's especially nice now that sometimes you kiss him after he's done a good job.

Now though, he just stands and stares as you work, nailing together bits of wood making your own saddle stand out of leftover bits of material. You looked so good, sweaty, and bent over your little bench. Is this how you felt when you watched him work? Sam doesn't even have the vocabulary to describe the strange heat that burns inside of him. He's supposed to be doing other work right now but he can't tear his eyes from you.

He wants to bend you over that saddle stand and- and what? He flinches back from the thought he didn't want to hurt you and he hates that his instincts are pushing him in that direction. But he wouldn't hurt you, his mind argues back. He wouldn't pin you down to hurt win a match or something. He'd be gentle. He'd pleasure you. Sam shudders. Where were these thoughts coming from?

His nostrils flare and even from across the barn, he can smell you and the salt of your sweat makes his cock throb. Sam sits down hard and pulls a nearby milk bucket over the large tent in his pants. He immediately feels stupid and tosses the pail aside, it did more to draw attention to his boner than hide it. He settles for just sitting awkwardly and hoping you don't notice.

How can Sam ever look you in the eye again after this? He supposes he shouldn't feel so guilty about being attracted to you but surely it's perverse to want you this badly when you're not even doing anything. At least if you were naked in bed trying to seduce him he'd have good reason to be this turned on. Sam shudders and replays the mental image of you, naked in bed, looking up at him trying to pull him towards you. Fuck he needed to get on top of you.

Just as that thought crossed his mind you bent over the waist-height wooden stand to grab something from your toolbox jutting your ass out in front of him. In a second Sam is on his feet, walking towards you before he can register what he's even doing, all he knows is that he needs you.

"oh, Sam-" you gasp, jumping a little when you turn to see him right behind you. For someone so big he moved silently. Sam takes a step forward and presses you back against the barn wall. "What's going on honey?" you ask trying to sound calm but you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous about his behavior. Sam had always been so cautious with you, overly gentle and paranoid that he might hurt you by accident. The Sam you knew would never pin you against a wall like this, it was nervewracking but also exciting.

"I uhm I just wanted to be close to you I guess," he mumbled, lowering his snout to your shoulder as if he was smelling you. Sam steps closer and you feel something brush against your thigh at first you think it's his leg but you look down and realize it's his barely restrained cock poking into your thigh.

"Do- are you uhm in heat Sam?" You ask and the monster on top of you freezes.

"do- do minotaurs go into heat?" he asks puzzled.

"I guess I don't know but most monsters do have you really never gone into heat before?" You ask then wince, it made sense that he wouldn't go into heat when he was under such harsh conditions his body wouldn't let him go into such a vulnerable state.

"No," he said, his hips grinding softly against your thigh he groans at the friction and you can't help but shudder too. You might not go into heat but you did want him just as much. "Will you help me?" he asked desperately.

"yes- yeah, I'll help you let me just-" As soon as he has your consent all other thoughts fly out of his head. He pushes his mouth to yours kissing you and effectively shutting you up. This wasn't like any of the other soft and innocent kisses you and Sam had shared in the past this was heated, and needy and caused a warm heat to bloom inside of you. This isn't a kiss for the sake of kissing, this is a kiss that promises much much more to come.

Even desperate like this, Sam still tries to be gentle as he strips your clothes and kneels down so he can hook your legs over his broad, muscular shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the barn he holds your weight easily.

"I'm going to get you nice and prepped for me, my cock is big and I need you to take every inch, okay?" he asks softly, kissing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his thick fingers ghost over your cunt.

"Hold my horns while you rid my face," Sam instructs. You look down at his horns, one normal and the other broken and jagged. You hesitated, you knew how much that broken horn hurt him and you didn't want to grab it, but before you could put much more thought into it Sam pressed his mouth to your cunt, running his large soft tongue over your folds getting you wet enough to slot his big fingers inside of you. You yelp and settle for holding on to his good horn with one hand and tangling your fingers in his hair with the other.

Sam's cock ached. He needed to be buried inside of you, but he held himself back. He imagined the pained squeak you'd make if he tried to fuck you without any prep and that was almost enough to snap him out of his lusty haze. Almost.

You lose count of how many times you cum as he stretches you out and gets you ready for his dick, eventually though he decides that you're ready for him, or he just gets tired of waiting. Your legs tremble and for a second you worry you're not going to be able to stand on your own but you needn't worry, Sam had no intention of letting you stand. he readjusts his grip so that your legs are over his forearms and he pins you against the wall again his cock nudging your opening, slipping up your pussy as he tries unsuccessfully to push into you. His cock head bumps your clit and you feel a pulse of warm precum ooze out onto your hot skin making you shudder, your thighs tense in his arms, and Sam grunts, spreading your legs a little further as he grinds his cock over your cunt again.

You reach between your two bodies and grasp his cock. You curse silently to yourself feeling the weight and girth of it for the first time. You stroke him a few times before you guide his dick inside of you.

Sam had been so careful to be gentle with you this whole time, but now that he feels your tight heat gripping him in a way he's never felt before he no longer has the restraint. His brain shuts off and he feels more like a beast than he has in years. Sam slams his hips against yours burying his cock to the hilt in one swift motion. You cry out and dig your nails into his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you with all the strength of a bull plowing a field. You're pretty sure you hear something crack and for a minute you aren't sure if it's you or the barn wall behind you that's breaking.

Sam groans loudly as he sinks his cock into you over and over again. His hips have a mind of their own as they steadily rock back and forth. He hates to admit it, but every time you cry out in pleasure or in pain it makes his cock throb. He would have thought the sound of you hurting-hurting because of him, would be enough to break his heart instead it makes him whimper and only fuels his desire to fuck you harder and fill you with his cum until you were swollen with it.

The mental image of you bloated with his seed proves to be too much for him and with one more deep stroke he cums deep inside of you, his legs shake with the relief of finally breeding you. He pulls you away from the wall and crashes backward into a hay bail laying down to catch his breath while keeping you impaled on his cock.

It feels right to have you on his chest and be surrounded by the earthy comforting smell of hay and dirt. You shift a little and his hands fly up to your hips pushing you back down.

"Stay... please," he almost begs softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, I just want to get off your dick," you promise, trying to shift again. then he looks at you with the saddest most pleading look you've ever seen. his big brown cow eyes sparkling at you.

"Please don't, I want to be inside of you so you can feel me get hard again before I fuck you," he mumbles pleadingly. how could you say no to that face?

[buckysgrace]

Chemistry

Steve x Stepsister!reader

Kinktober 2024

You're home when Steve comes back after stumbling into something odd.

CW: Pseudocest, dubcon, sex pollen, unprotected sex

The movie had started to bore you some time ago, slowly turning into background noise as you flipped through your book. But even that couldn’t hold your interest. 

The house was too big for one person, especially on this specific night. You were creeped out, or maybe that had been because of the scary movie you’d watched earlier. You had thought about snooping through the house again, but the last time you had found things of Steve’s that you hadn’t wanted to see.

Living with him was awkward, worse than you thought it would be. You’d known him your whole life, just as a stranger. And he still continued to treat you like one. Like you were somehow to blame for his father cheating and marrying your mother. People might’ve said he had changed but you knew the truth, he was still a dick. You had no control of it, but he still pointed the blame at you. And he had the audacity to say that you were the spoiled one. 

You had hoped things would be different, as you were both in the same boat. No siblings, no cousins or anything. It had always just been you and your mom and you had hoped that Steve would relate, that maybe you could bond over it. Having a big brother seemed fun, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even want you as a friend. 

You almost ignored him when he pushed the door open, easily telling by his body language that he didn’t want to be messed with anyways. But the sight of him made your book fall from your fingers, banging onto the floor as you quickly stood. 

“What happened to you?” You gasped in horror, eyes widening as you walked around the couch, “Steve, you look terrible.” You told him seriously, just briefly taking in the Band-aids that decorated his face. 

“Nothing.” He scoffed as he shook his head, his hair flopping around as he gripped the railing and began to head up the stairs. You walked behind him, deciding that you shouldn’t ignore him. Not when he looked like this. 

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” You protested as you followed him, watching as he took two steps at a time, “Who did that?” You asked seriously, wondering if you should call the cops. Maybe he got mugged, but you had no idea by who. You had thought he was going to be with Nancy. 

“No one.” He spoke in irritation, flicking on the switch to his bedroom as he tried to shut the door behind him. But you were faster. You pushed it open with little to no protest from him as he stumbled back, looking exasperated. 

“Jesus,” You gasped as the light gave you a good look of his bruises and cuts, “Oh my God. Let me help.” You replied seriously, staring at the dried blood that lingered above his lips and below his nose. He had a nasty cut on his right forehead, along with his left cheek. His lips were swollen and cut up too. 

“I don’t need your help.” He replied as he turned his gaze away from you, brown eyes twinkling underneath his bedroom lights. You frowned. 

“You’re hurt,” You pointed out, “Just let me clean it up. It looks painful.” You added, gently moving your hand up to move his hair from his forehead. Looking at it closer did nothing to ease your worries. It looked worse close up. 

“I’m fine.” He snapped in response, tilting his head back as you dropped your head to your side. You decided that he didn’t get to be stubborn, not right now. He could hate you later, but you weren’t going to leave him like this. 

“Please,” You told him softly, “I’d feel bad if I left you alone like this.” You told him gently, heart hammering as he turned his attention back towards you. He observed you for a long moment, like he was debating his choices. Or just too tired to argue.

“Fine.” He grumbled as he sat on the edge of his bed, his jeans dirty along his knees and thighs. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what the hell he got himself into. But you didn’t press too much. 

You gathered up the little things that were available, then worked diligently. You were surprised he was true to his word, sitting still as you dabbed the wash cloth along his face. It still looked bad, but not as terrible as what you had originally thought. Once the blood was cleared, it didn’t look as gnarly. 

Your band-aids weren’t as colorful as the previous ones he had, but you hoped that they worked. A million questions raced through your mind, but you kept resting on one. Wondering if he was with Nancy. But you knew it was none of your business and it shouldn’t matter. 

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you pulled your hand away, feeling like he looked a lot better than before. But his eyes were dilated, dark and intense as he observed you. Part of you wondered if you had accidentally hurt him. 

“I think something’s wrong.” He replied roughly, flicking his tongue out to lick his bottom lip before he gulped roughly. You resisted the urge to touch him again, wondering if he was sick. Maybe he had a fever. 

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” You questioned him softly, “Steve?” You pried again, tilting your head patiently. He continued to stare, his chest rising and falling slowly before his gaze fell to your lips. 

Something in the air shifted, the atmosphere between the two of you growing so tense and quiet you could hear the grandfather clock ticking downstairs. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating, if he could see how your pulse was hitting against your skin. 

He leaned forward then, his long fingers falling against your neck as he tugged you closer. Your eyes widened, your lungs stalled as his lips fell against yours. Everything felt like it was falling in slow motion, the world around you stopping.

You expected him to be in pain, to be hurt from how sore and scratched his lips had been. But he didn’t act like that. His groans weren’t from pain, rather from want and need. You could feel it in the way he dragged his lips against yours, how the desperation and lust leaked from his touch. 

You felt like putty in his hands as he pulled you closer, sealing the gap between your bodies as his lips moved against yours more frantically. You could feel his teeth gliding against yours, his tongue dipping against the curve of your mouth. It was desperate, carnal. 

“Tell me to stop,” He said quickly as he pulled away, brown eyes filled with desperation, “Please.” He begged you as you still felt hazy, your mind mingling from the leftover feeling of his mouth against yours.

You stared at the look in his eyes, how wide and crazed his pupils looked. You wondered if you just had that effect on him, or if it was something else. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. 

“I don’t want you to hurt.” You whispered softly, meaning your words fully. If this made him feel better, you’d willingly give yourself to him. He wasn’t related to you, nor were you really siblings. Your parents just happened to be married.

He inhaled deeply, his thumbs brushing across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your features again. He licked his bottom lip, groaning softly as he tilted his face towards yours again. You parted your lips, craving the feeling of him again.  

You had seen him kiss before, when Nancy was over or they were sneaking off at school. But he never kissed her like this. He was always gentle with her, soft touches and tender movements. 

The way he was holding you was rough, almost animalistic as he tugged you over his lap. His lips were harsh as he kissed you deeply again, his lips moving against yours tenderly but intensely. He held you like he was afraid you’d pull apart or disappear. You weren’t sure. But you didn’t want it to end.

His tongue fell against your teeth, licking away your spit as soft moans fell off of your tongue. His hands fell to your sides, then across your abdomen as he moved towards the buttons on your pajama shirt.

Your heart was beating so harshly in your chest that it hurt, but you ignored it as he pushed your shirt off of your shoulders. Your insides burned with desire as your hands fell to his chest, rolling your palms over his shirt before he pushed you back again.

You huffed as you fell onto your back, just barely getting yourself balanced on your elbows before he was ripping your pajama bottoms off your legs. You had never seen him in this manner before, so focused and intense.

“You’re so pretty,” He breathed out, expression filled with lust as his eyes scanned your body. You bit your bottom lip, feeling shy underneath his gaze, “God, honey. You look incredible.” He praised you, palms falling to your hips as he pulled you closer.

“Steve,” You started softly, feeling like you were in a trance. Or a dream, “Are you sure you want this?” You asked him seriously, feeling like there would be no going back after this. You weren’t sure you could stop after just having a taste of him. 

“Never wanted something so badly before,” He groaned as he began to grind his hips down against your thighs, “Please. Just wanna feel you. Just a bit.” He looked far too pretty as he rolled his head back, his lips parting as little moans fell from his tongue. 

“Okay,” You nodded your head in agreement, “S’fine.” You agreed with him, figuring it wouldn’t be too bad if you just touched a little bit. There was nothing wrong with that. 

His moans sounded heavenly as he pulled back briefly, just enough to shove his jeans and briefs down to his knees. Your eyes fell to the way his cock plopped out against your leg. His size was a bit intimidating, long and hard. His tip was a soft pink, precum leaking onto your skin as he shifted even closer. 

“Hurts,” He groaned as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a little stroke, “Feels better now.” He panted as he nodded his head, reassuring himself as he thrust his hips forward. You felt like you were in awe, your mind fuzzy and warm. 

“You seem like you’re enjoying yourself.” You teased as you leaned forward, gliding your fingers over his slick cock. You gaped at the feeling, rolling your hands up and down the length of his cock. You liked how warm and soft his skin felt, how hard he felt against your fingers. 

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” He replied as he snapped his hips forward in bliss. He grunted as you felt a small smile forming on your lips, liking how desperate he was for your touch. 

“Am I?” You teased as you licked your bottom lip, enjoying the way he was grinding roughly against your hand. Pleasure was etched across his expression, telling you that he was enjoying it all too much. 

“Yeah,” He sighed as he gripped your knees, digging his fingertips into your flesh, “Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He apologized, voice breaking up as you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock. You moved both of your hands together, spreading his slick from his tip to his base. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked him seriously, your clit throbbing as he continued to thrust his hips forward. You almost feared the answer, not wanting him to really say no. You wanted to feel him, to make him feel good.

“No,” He said quickly, desperation forming between his eyebrows, “Please don’t stop. You feel so good around my cock. Please, please.” He cried out, whining as he continued to thrust his hips forward. You licked your bottom lip, admiring the way his cock moved against your fists. 

“Do you like that?” You asked him softly, fluttering your eyelashes as he reached his hands forward and gripped your tits. You moaned at the sensation, gasping as he brought his fingers down against your hardened nipples.

He pinched them softly, earning a little moan from you as they hardened in the air. He reached forward, hovering over you before he spit onto your skin. You widened your eyes, feeling like you should be disgusted as he smeared it across your boobs. You weren’t. The sensation traveled down your body, traveling straight to your neglected clit. 

He groaned as he rutted his hips forward rougher, his balls slapping against your hand from how roughly he was moving. You felt warm inside as you watched him, wondering what he would feel like inside of you. 

“Let me fuck you,” He begged a second later, groaning as he rolled your nipples around between his thumb and fingertip. You continued to stroke him, ignoring the way your wrists were beginning to ache, “Please. I’ll treat you so well, little sister.”

Fuck.

“Okay,” You whispered, not really needing to think about it. You wanted him just as badly. You wondered if you bore the same crazed look in your eye, if lust was written across your expression in the same way, “I want you, Stevie.” You breathed out, glad that your parents would be gone for the next few days. It gave you less to worry about.

Your heart thumped roughly in your chest as he pushed your knees apart and dragged the tip of his cock across your slick folds. You whimpered softly as his leaking tip pressed against your swollen clit, leaving you rolling your hips forward slowly.

“Should we-,” You gulped, trying to collect your thoughts, “Should you get a condom?” You asked him seriously, thinking that it would be best if you were safe.

“I wanna feel you,” He exhaled, eyes dark and pupils shot, “Please. I want to feel you so badly. I’ll be careful. I promise. I wanna feel your cunt so badly.” He begged as he continued to grind against your slick pussy.

“Oh God,” You moaned at the feeling of his heavy dick against you, nodding your head urgently as you bit down on your bottom lip, “Okay. I wanna feel you too.” You admitted, gasping as he slid his tip against your leaking hole.

He moaned at the feeling, pink lips parting in bliss as he bullied his thick cock inside of your thick walls. You whimpered at the sensation of him stretching you out, his cock pressing deeper inside of you as you took a deep breath.

Steve’s hands fell to your fleshy hips, gripping you tightly as he moaned wantonly. His sounds filled the room, desperate and loud as he bottomed out inside of you. His balls were pressed against your slick skin, the tip of his dick nestled against the deepest parts of you. You had never felt so filled before, so stretched and stuffed.

“Steve,” You exhaled roughly, whimpering as you reached down to grip his wrists. This was wrong. So wrong, “Feels good.” You moaned instead, eyes drifting up towards his.

His cock was heavy inside of your cunt, buried snugly inside of you. He fit inside of you so perfectly, like he was a missing puzzle piece. You fought the urge to reach down and touch your clit, feeling how harshly it was buzzing. 

He flicked his tongue out across his bottom lip, his smugness hidden behind the lustful expression as he leaned over you. Your knees were pushed to your chest, squishing you as his lips found yours again.

He licked your lips before he kissed you, his lips pressing roughly against yours as he began to slowly rut his hips into you. Your mouth vibrated from his groans, his nose brushing against your skin as he pressed his weight on top of yours. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He apologized as his lips continued to glide against yours, whining as he began to rock himself into you. His thrusts were rough, rapid as his fingers dug harder into your flesh. He was gripping you so tightly that you were sure he was going to leave your skin sore, “Just feels so good.” 

Your body slid against the floor as he dragged you along the curve of his cock, your cunt leaking around his girth as he buried himself deeply with each movement. Your moans mingled with his as your nails dug into his wrist, clawing at him blissfully.

“S’okay, s’okay,” You promised, eyes rolling in the back of your head as his tip pressed against your bundle of nerves with each thrust, “Oh my God!” You whined this time, tone turning pitchy as your knees burned from the feeling of his weight over yours. 

Steve’s groans grew louder, whinier as he continued to rapidly thrust his hips forward. You could tell by the desperate look on his features that he was trying to hold himself back, trying not to lose control. But you wanted him to. It all felt so good. 

“I bet you did that on purpose,” He groaned as he buried himself deeper into you, “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He accused, moans rolling off of his tongue as his balls smacked against your skin.

“Feels good, so good,” You confirmed as you stuck your nails deeper into his skin, pleasure shooting up your spine at the way he was throbbing inside of your slick walls, “Don’t stop.” You demanded, not wanting the pleasure to stop. 

He pressed his lips together, a trail of blood falling from where his scratch had ripped open again. You leaned forward, sticking your tongue out to lick it away. He groaned as he held onto you tighter, his cock heavy against your walls as he stuck his tongue out to meet yours.

Drool fell from his mouth and onto yours as your tongues brushed against his. You curled your tongue around his, moaning at the sensation. You felt your clit throbbing, your walls aching as your climax grew near. 

“Let me cum inside you,” He whined as he rutted himself harder against you, like he was trying to get closer, “Please. I’ll make you feel so good.” He nodded his head, eyes meeting yours in desperation. 

“Wanna feel you cum inside,” You nodded your head, moaning in agreement at the thought of his spunk spilling from your walls, “Please, please.” You moved your hands up his arms, gripping at his clothes to tug him even closer.

His thrusts became uneven, deeper and sporadic as he rutted his hips against yours in desperation. He was whimpering, his sounds filling the room like a pretty melody as you knitted your fingers through his shirt. 

“Fuck, fuck!” He cursed, burying his cock deep inside of you. He gripped you tightly, crying out as his dick twitched inside of you, “Oh my God.” He huffed, whimpering as he continued to grind himself into you.

You moaned at the feeling, blinking your eyes slowly as a hazy feeling settled over you. You gasped as you rolled your hands across his shoulders, admiring the pretty look that filled his expression. He looked so handsome, so ethereal. 

You still felt like you were floating as he pulled his weight off of you, letting your legs relax for a moment as he slid his softening dick from your slick hole. You gulped, heart hammering as you feared he’d leave you like this. Pressed to the floor with his cum sliding from your cunt.

He dipped down instead, pressing your legs far apart as he buried his face between your legs. You cried out from the sensation as he kissed at your pussy, sucking on your folds and wrapping his lips around your clit. It was rough and soft at the same time, the sensation spreading up your spine. 

His tongue was hot against your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud. You cried out as you dug your fingers through his hair, whining as your hips moved on their own. Your body felt like you were burning, on fire as he spread your legs further apart.

He buried his face deeper between your thighs, his tongue drifting down your folds and to your leaking hole. He curled his tongue inside of your cunt, lapping at your walls and cleaning away his spunk. Everything inside of you was pulsing, twisting and churning in pleasure. 

“Steve, Steve -,” You chanted, whimpering as your head fell back against the floor. Your hips rutted up against his face, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue lapped at your spongy walls, “Fuck!” You cursed, shaking as you came with a cry.

You felt like you were floating, your body trembling as your pussy clamped down around his tongue. He kept a tight grip on your hips, keeping you from pulling away as you spasmed from underneath him. 

“Oh God,” You cried out, fingers knitting tightly through his hair as your clit throbbed from the overstimulation, “Feels so good.” You breathed out deeply, toes curling as he took one last long lap across your cunt.

“Tastes so good,” He groaned, wet lips sliding against your inner thighs, “You’ve got such a good cunt, baby sister.” He sighed as he dipped back down, taking another broad lick across your clit.

“Can’t,” You squeaked out, feeling like you might melt into the floorboards if he continued, “Too much.” You breathed out, gasping as you tugged his hair away from your sensitive bud.

He looked up at you, his eyes still filled with lust but his pupils were no longer as big. You pressed your fingers tightly together, looking at the mess of cum across his lips and chin. You crooned, wondering what he tasted like. 

He collapsed next to you a second later, his chest rising and falling in the same rhythm as your own. You didn’t touch him, didn’t turn your head to look at him as the shame settled over you. You didn’t quite regret it, but you knew it had been wrong. And you were fearful over his thoughts on this. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking. 

You both laid there on the floor, the room filled with the sound of the grandfather clock from below as you simmered in your shared mistake. There was no going back. 

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you. 

Part 7 of 12

Synopsis: Kissing butt and moving forward

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

Warnings: sleazy old men being creepy, mild mentions of SA

Before you start this chapter, please listen to this song, this is pivotal to understanding y/n’s thoughts during the last scene. https://open.spotify.com/track/4zXuYQNDmw3dlauyc8q3Kd?si=646c78b4897948b6 

masterlist

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The country club was alive with the usual hum of polished interactions: the soft clinking of glasses, the shuffle of wait staff in black and white uniforms, and the low murmur of conversation filling the grand, gilded ballroom. Y/N moved through the space, her tray steady in her hands as she refilled water glasses and delivered drinks with practiced ease. Her eyes darted from task to task, trying to stay focused, but something gnawed at her.

She could feel the weight of JJ’s breath on her lips, the sting of his casual response when she’d told him how she felt. The memory of his pity-kiss made her stomach turn even now. It was hard to escape the feeling that something had irrevocably shifted between them. She didn’t want to think about it—not today. Today, she wanted answers, or at least a sign that things hadn’t fallen apart entirely.

She caught sight of him across the room, missing the usual smirk as he wiped down a table, leaning over to clear away dirty glasses. She walked toward him with a steadiness she didn’t feel. A few steps from his table, she hesitated, unsure what to say, but the chance to confront him felt too important to waste. Her heart was already racing before she even spoke his name.

"JJ."

He looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers for the briefest moment, but something in his expression shifted immediately. There was no warmth, no recognition of the awkwardness between them. He glanced over her shoulder, then back at her. “Not now, Y/N. I’m busy.”

The dismissal was swift, practiced. He didn’t even try to hide the way his gaze flitted away, settling on the next table with a customer’s request. As if she wasn’t there at all.

Y/N stood still for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. His back was already turned before she could say anything more. She swallowed hard, forcing her feet to move, the space between them suddenly feeling vast.

Before she could retreat further into herself, her manager appeared in her line of sight, his face set in the familiar, detached mask he wore when he had work for her.

“Y/N,” he called sharply, already holding out a clipboard. “You’re on for the private event tonight. Bikini server.”

The words hit her like a punch in the gut. She didn’t need to hear anything else. She knew exactly what that meant. A private party—one of those parties. The kind that everyone whispered about in the break room, and which most staff avoided at all costs. But there was no avoiding it when it was assigned.

Her stomach sank, and her mouth went dry as she reached for the clipboard without a word.

“Get dressed and head to the back. The event’s starting soon.”

She nodded mechanically, but inside, her pulse was already hammering. She had never done this before, however she heard about it from the other servers. the uncomfortable leers, the condescending smiles, the silent assessment of her in a bikini by a room full of men who didn’t care who she was as long as she was serving drinks. It was part of the job. She didn’t have a choice.

As the manager walked away, a memory crept into her mind. The last time she’d been assigned to a private event like this, JJ had intervened. She remembered him, laughing loudly and knocking over a tray of glasses in a clumsy but deliberate mess. His excuse to their boss had been thin, but it had worked—he’d saved her from being part of that atmosphere.

“If it ever happens again, just call me,” his words echoed in her mind. “I’ll have your back.”

She was grateful then. Grateful for the distraction, the sudden sense of safety, the way he’d made sure she didn’t have to endure the sleazy men and their eyes. But now, as she stood in the hallway, her phone gripped tightly in her hand, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was on her own this time.

Y/N’s fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone and unlocked it. She scrolled through her contacts until JJ’s name appeared. The hope that maybe—just maybe—he would come through for her again flashed in her chest. He promised she thought, swallowing hard.

She hit the call button, and the phone rang once. Then again.

With every passing second, her heart beat harder against her chest. The ringing seemed to stretch on forever, her breath quickening as the screen flashed with each new ring.

"Come on, JJ," she whispered, tapping the phone to her ear again.

The voicemail kicked in before she could brace herself. The robotic voice was the final blow.

She let out a shaky breath, her thumb hovering over the screen. Then, without thinking, she recorded a message, her voice quieter than she meant it to be.

“Hey, JJ… it’s Y/N. I, uh, I just wanted to remind you of what you said last time. You know, if something like this happens again, you’d have my back? Well, I’m going to that party tonight. And I could really use you here. But, you know, whatever. If you’re busy...”

Her voice cracked as she tried to finish, but the words stopped. She felt ridiculous, desperate. It wasn’t supposed to sound like this.

She cleared her throat and ended the message, but the silence afterward felt deafening. She hit “send” and stared at the screen, willing him to call her back.

When it went to voicemail, she just stood there for a moment, her heart sinking deeper. Her thumb hovered over the phone, but she didn’t press anything.

He's not coming.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket, the weight of it dragging her down. A last, fleeting sense of hope ebbed away, and she squared her shoulders. She wasn’t going to let it stop her. She couldn’t.

Her mind whirled, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and disappointment. She stuffed the phone into her pocket, straightened her shoulders, and forced her feet to move.

She passed by the staff locker rooms, the faint chatter of colleagues filtering out as they prepped for their own assignments. She moved past them with her head down, barely noticing the stares, her mind consumed by the scene ahead.

The ballroom loomed before her, its golden chandeliers gleaming in the dim light, the sound of clinking glasses and muted conversations pressing against her. She could already feel it—the weight of the men’s eyes, the way they would look at her like she was nothing more than the drinks she was about to serve.

But she kept walking, one foot in front of the other. It was just another job. She had to do this.

She could almost feel the eyes on her as she entered the ballroom. The air felt thick, heavy with expectation. She could already imagine the looks she would get, the comments they would make, the way her stomach would twist every time a man would glance at her with that knowing look.

Just get through it, she told herself. Just get through it.

–

The sound of clinking glasses and low conversation buzzed around Y/N as she awkwardly navigated through the crowd of older men in dark suits, her tray trembling slightly in her hands. She hated the smell of expensive cologne mixing with the stale air of the country club’s ballroom, and even more, she hated the way they looked at her—like she was nothing more than a decoration in a bikini, a piece of scenery for their business deals.

Y/N had been coerced into working this private event by her boss, who couldn’t care less that she was underage and shouldn't be serving drinks to these men. It was a way to make quick cash, and as usual, she had little choice. The job wasn’t worth the pit in her stomach, though. She could feel the eyes on her, too many stares lingering longer than they should. The glances from the men made her skin crawl.

Then, a hand gripped her wrist.

Y/N’s head snapped around to see a man, probably in his sixties, staring at her with a smug grin. The warmth of his hand made her skin crawl as he tugged her closer. 

"Hey, sweetheart," he slurred, his breath smelling of whiskey. "Can I get another drink over here?" His eyes lingered too long, the leer obvious.

She tried to pull away, her heart racing. "Please, let go," she said firmly, but he didn’t budge. 

The man’s grip tightened as his eyes roved over her body. "You don’t need to be shy, darling."

Without warning, he slapped her hard—his hand making a sickening smack as it landed on her bare skin. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as the shock rippled through her, and she stumbled back, barely managing to steady herself. A sting bloomed across her backside, where his hand had landed.

She couldn’t stop the hot wave of humiliation that flooded over her. Her mind screamed for escape, and she bolted, running away from the man and the crowd of leering faces. 

Y/N didn’t even know where she was going until she found herself outside, standing in the dark, hands shaking. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. She needed to get out. 

"Hey!" A voice called out from behind her, and she turned, startled.

Rafe Cameron stood in the doorway, looking out of place in his designer clothes amidst the worn-out, sea-washed buildings of the country club’s back lot. He must’ve been checking out his yacht nearby. His eyes softened when they landed on her, and it was the first time she noticed how different he looked, how much the usually cocky and aloof guy seemed almost… concerned.

"What happened?" Rafe asked, his voice low and serious, and it took her a moment to realize he wasn’t mocking her.

Y/N’s heart pounded. "I’m fine. Just—just go back inside." She tried to sound confident, but it came out more like a plea.

Rafe stepped closer, his gaze flicking over her. "Don’t bullshit me. You’re not fine." His eyes flickered to her side, where the imprint of the slap was already beginning to show a bruise that would likely darken by morning.

Without thinking, Rafe reached out, his thumb brushing over the mark. His touch was gentle, almost tender, and the contrast between his usual arrogant demeanor and this softness caught her off guard. He leaned down slowly, pressing a kiss to the bruise—just the slightest brush of his lips against her skin.

It wasn’t anything like what the men had done. It was nothing like the way they touched her.

Y/N froze. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was the kindness, the way he seemed to care, the way he wasn’t treating her like an object. For the first time in forever, she felt like someone actually saw her.

Rafe pulled back, his eyes searching hers. There was a moment of silence where neither of them knew quite what to say. His eyes softened, but then, Y/N’s voice cracked the tension in the air.

“You kissed my butt.” Y/N blinked, her brows knitting in confusion as she looked at him.

“I—I kissed your bruise. Not your—your butt!” Rafe stammered, his face flushing an almost comical shade of red. “Look, it was an accident, okay? I just saw the bruise, and I wanted to… you know, I don’t know… make it better?”

She fought a smile as she crossed her arms, feeling a mix of disbelief and amusement. “You kissed my butt.”

“No! I—well, I didn’t—okay, I did, but it wasn’t like that,” Rafe blurted out, his hands flying up in a panic as if he could somehow reverse the ridiculousness of the situation. “It was just a reflex, alright? You looked like you were in pain, and I—ugh, God, this is coming out so wrong.”

Y/N couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled up, escaping before she could even stop it. The sheer awkwardness of the moment was too much, and she felt the tension break in a way she hadn’t expected.

“You kissed my butt,” she said again, this time with a grin that reached her eyes.

Rafe groaned, his hands rubbing his face in frustration. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this. I swear, I’ve never been this embarrassed in my life.”

But Y/N wasn’t listening to his rambling. She was still laughing, and somehow, it made her feel lighter, like the weight of the world inside her chest wasn’t so suffocating anymore.

Rafe stood there, frozen and awkward, clearly unsure if he should laugh along or hide from the humiliation. But as the moment stretched on, his gaze softened. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against hers.

"You’re not alone, Y/N," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, his usual bravado gone for a second. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N looked at him, really looked at him. She didn’t feel like a piece of the scenery anymore, didn’t feel like she was something to be discarded or objectified. Rafe had done something stupid, sure, but it was more than that. He hadn’t treated her like a thing; he’d treated her like a person. And despite the chaos, despite the awkward kiss on her backside, for the first time in a long while, she felt seen.

And in that quiet, vulnerable moment, she didn’t hold back. Her heart thumped in her chest as she reached up, pulling him toward her and pressing her lips to his. It was desperate and unguarded, the kind of kiss that said everything they hadn’t said yet.

Rafe’s hands found her waist instantly, his grip firm but gentle, pulling her closer. It wasn’t about the kiss anymore. It wasn’t about the confusion or the embarrassment. For once, Y/N didn’t feel like she was something to be pitied or tolerated. She felt wanted. She felt enough.

When they finally pulled apart, the world felt different, as if everything had shifted on its axis.

Rafe was still watching her, his gaze full of something she couldn’t quite place. But there was one thing she knew for sure now.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered again, his voice soft but sure.

And in that moment, she knew she wasn’t alone anymore.

---

Bonus

---

A week passed, and life seemed to go back to normal—sort of. Y/N tried to bury the memory of the country club party, but it lingered in the back of her mind, along with Rafe’s unexpected tenderness. The days since have been nothing but amazing. It wasn’t just the kiss—it was everything he’d done. It was like he saw her, really saw her, for the first time.

She was walking to the market when she passed by the country club, feeling the familiar weight of the place she had hoped to forget. Her steps faltered when she saw the manager standing outside, suitcase in hand, looking disgraced.

She blinked, then did a double take. The manager was leaving. Wasn’t he supposed to be working tonight? And wasn’t it just a few days ago that she’d overheard him muttering about having another event to handle?

Curiosity gnawed at her. She approached one of the other servers, trying to sound casual. "Hey, what happened to the manager? He looks... well, he looks like he’s not coming back."

The server looked around nervously before shrugging. “You didn’t hear? He got fired, like, out of nowhere. No one knows why. They said it’s something to do with his behavior at the last event. Real bad stuff.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She felt the adrenaline start to pump through her veins as the pieces began to click together.

---

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and Rafe showed up at her house unannounced, she felt the need to ask. They were sitting on the porch, sharing a silence that felt strangely comfortable, the air still warm from the day’s heat.

She finally broke the quiet. “Rafe… about the manager at the country club.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into that cocky grin that always made her stomach flip. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated, watching him closely. “Did you have anything to do with him getting fired?”

Rafe didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at her, just took a slow sip of his drink, exhaling with a lazy grin, fully relaxed. “What, you think I got him fired?”

Y/N studied him, her pulse quickening. She could read him well enough now—he was hiding something, but whether it was guilt or pride, she couldn’t tell. “Did you?”

Rafe's eyes locked onto hers, the usual playful spark in his gaze replaced with something deeper. He shrugged like he was too cool to care, but there was a quiet intensity in his gaze. “Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Y/N’s stomach did a flip. There was no regret in his voice—just that casual, confident air that made her feel both at ease and a little... nervous. But it wasn’t just the words; it was the way he said them. Rafe didn’t do things by half-measures, especially not when it came to her.

“I don’t want to be your charity case, Rafe,” she said, her voice steady despite the tightening in her chest. “I don’t want you doing things like that for me.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, the air around him thick with the kind of confidence that made everything else fade into the background. His eyes never left hers. “You’re not a charity case, Y/N.” He set his drink down slowly, his voice dropping an octave, and she felt it in her bones. “I’m not doing anything for you that I wouldn’t do for anyone I care about. But if you think this is me doing you some big favor, you’ve got it all wrong, it's just how I handle things.”

He let the words hang there for a moment, like he was giving her space to process, but the message was clear. He wasn’t some guy looking for recognition, and he wasn’t going to apologize for taking care of things in his own way.

“You’re not weak,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more serious. “You don’t need anyone to fix things for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sit back and let people treat you like shit.”

His gaze softened, his tone just a little more intense, and Y/N felt a rush of something—relief? Gratitude? Maybe a little something else she wasn’t ready to admit.

Rafe wasn’t looking for credit. He wasn’t trying to be her knight in shining armor. He was just doing what came naturally to him: protecting the people he cared about, even if it meant taking down someone who’d crossed the line.

He didn’t say more, but the quiet confidence in his words was enough to make Y/N realize that he had her back—whether she liked it or not. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

-----

Next up: happy times

-----

Taglist:

@hockeybabe87 , @idiotussupremus , @certifiedhaters , @oatmealisweird, @sluggmuffin , @maybankslover , @ren-ni, @wh0reforbucknasty

-----

a/n :)

[sleepymarimo]

𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕠𝕝!

summary: sometimes, zoro really can't handle your praise... pairing: zoro x afab!reader cw: mdni, choking, praise, creampie wc: 600sih an: a little blurb of smut bc i was getting too fluffy •`_´• jk we love fluff here

the hold you have on the swordsman is immeasurable.

you have him wrapped around your finger, even in moments like this when his large hand is wrapped around your throat.

“so, so good, zo’!” you manage to whine out, the sound barely audible over the sound of wet slaps and his rasped breaths. one of your hands is over his, tracing his knuckles as he chokes you, while the other plants itself higher up on his forearm where you can feel the muscle tensing underneath. "m'want more, i need it!"

he grits his teeth, squeezing just a bit tighter until your eyes flutter closed. he knew you liked it though, at least he figured you did judging by the way your walls pulsed around him.

he needed you to stop talking.

his cheeks are burning, the reddish hue on them darkening with every bit of praise that spilled from your lips. "be quiet, will ya?" he grumbles, perhaps a bit too sharply, not knowing how much more of your cloying words he could take.

his thrusts get harder, his hips hammering into yours with an intense passion. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and coats it with pre-cum, desperate to spill into you.

you’re so sweet to him.

it’s a blessing so foreign to him that sometimes he forgets it’s okay to be seen, to be vulnerable. even though he knows you’ve seen the depths of his soul, there are moments where he reverts to old habits and puts up a tough front.

that’s why he’s trying so hard to keep his cool.

your pretty little pussy squeezing around him like a damn vice is one thing, but the praises that dripped like honey past your lips was a completely different story. when you struggle to take an inhale, gasping sharply, he loosens his grip. the feel of your rapid pulse under his palm only drives him closer to the edge and he hopes, for his sake, that you're too fucked out to spoil him with more undeserved praise.

he should've known better though.

a solid intake of air is followed by a shaky exhale turned moan as your head becomes light with ecstasy. your lashes, dotted with tears, make you look like an angel underneath him and he growls, his abdomen tensing as he tried to stop himself from cumming too fast.

he always made sure that you came first. your pleasure was priority and he takes a deep breath, closing his eye as he focused on maintaining some sort of self-control. he could hold out, he thinks, continuing to fuck you at a steady pace.

it all goes out the door when you open your mouth again. "y'make me feel so good!" you moan, desperately bucking your hips to his tempo to drive him deeper. "cum inside me, baby, please!"

the hand on your throat squeezes once more, his hips losing their rhythm as he begins bucking into you uncontrollably. "stop talk-" his breath hitches, the coil inside of him snapping as he snarls and throws his head back. "fuck!"

his whole body shudders and he bites down on his tongue, almost pushing you into the headboard of the bed as he buries himself deep inside of you. there's no point in keeping his cool anymore, his muscles relaxing and mouth falling open as he let out a sinful groan.

you're overflowing with his release, the thick, hot liquid dripping out of you and onto the bedsheets below. when you look up, the smile you give him is much too innocent and he clicks his tongue at the sight. you know damn well that he's putty in your hands and you know that he loves it.

even now, as he looks down at you with furrowed brows and reddened cheeks, his exasperated tone does little to hide the affection he feels toward you.

"damn you, woman."

[stayteezdreams]

Scenarios: First Realization of Love

Scenarios: First time they realize they love you + drabbles

Part One: Hongjoong/Yunho/Mingi Part Three: Yeosang/San/Jongho

Pairings: Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader; Jung Wooyoung x Gn!Reader

A/N: I got two requests for the rest of the members with this Scenario (with one emphasizing on wanting Seonghwa and Wooyoung). So this will be for Seonghwa and Wooyoung, and then I will do a final part for the last three members.

Warnings: Kisses in both.

Words: Seonghwas: ~1.2k; Wooyoungs: ~1.1k ; Total: ~2.2k

Seonghwa:

When he thought you were in a relationship...

You had suddenly begun acting different and he couldn't help but notice.

You were keeping a secret, which was weird, you never kept secrets from him.

Called you one day to see if you wanted to hang out.

You whispered into the phone that you were busy and it would have to wait.

He could hear someone talking in the background, it sounded like a guy.

His heart started hammering in his chest as his mind raced.

'Are you on a date?' 'Did you have a boyfriend?'

He convinced himself he was overreacting, you might be doing something for work.

But then it happened again!

He wanted to hang out again a few days later, on the weekend, when both of you were free.

Yet, you were "busy". With something you apparently couldn't, or didn't want to tell him about.

Thinking more about the fact you might be with another guy made his chest tight. Sitting down to relax, he started to wonder.

'Why am I so upset about them being with another guy? I should be supportive right?'

The more he thought about you with someone else though, the more he felt jealousy, worry and fear filling him.

Then it hit him.

It was because he was jealous, he was worried, he was afraid. That you would be with someone that wasn't him.

Unable to deal with the fact that he might lose you now that he just figured out he wanted to be with you as more than a friend, he was off and on his way to your apartment.

When Seonghwa got to your apartment, only for you to not answer he cursed himself, just now remembering that you weren't event home. You said you were out so you couldn't hang out.

Sighing to himself, he resolved to wait. He needed to see you, to tell you how he felt. So he would wait here, for as long as he needed too.

After pacing for what felt like forever, reciting everything he wanted to say to you, he grew tired, and sat down in front of your door.

Finally hearing someone approach, he looked up to see you walking towards your door. Your steps slowed as you noticed him, your face contorting with confusion and worry at Seonghwa's slumped figure in front of your door.

Seonghwa's eyes fell to the bags in your hand. Did whoever you were with take you shopping? He could do that too, he could spoil you if thats what you wanted.

Kind of hiding the bags behind your back you approached Seonghwa. "Seonghwa? What are you doing here, what's wrong?"

As he rose from the ground, everything he had planned to say to you vanished from his mind. He stared blankly at you for a moment as he swallowed, before stuttering out a single question.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

You blinked a few times. "Huh?"

He glanced down at the bags, "You've been secretive lately, and haven't been able to see me. I just wondered, if maybe..."

"If I was in a relationship and wasn't telling you about it?" You completed his thoughts for him.

He nodded and you saw the guilt and worry in his face. Your heart began pounding at his reaction to his own worries.

"I wouldn't do that Seonghwa."

His eyes seemed to brighten a bit, "So...you're not?"

You let out a soft laugh as you pulled out your keys and began unlocking your door. "I am not in a relationship."

He couldn't keep the relieved smile off of his face as the weight on his chest lightened. He followed you inside and you set your bags on the couch with a sigh.

"But I was keeping something from you."

He frowned and you smiled softly, "I wasn't going to tell you until your birthday, but since you got yourself all worked up..." You reached into one of the bags before pulling out a large Lego set, one that Seonghwa recognized immedietely.

It had been a limited addition one he wanted desperately. It was only available in stores, and you had to queue up physically to get it, which in his position was not a good idea.

His eyes sparkled in realization and he looked at you with a bright smile. You smiled, "Happy Birthday Seonghwa."

Approaching you, he took the box out of your hand, set it on the couch and embraced you. You let out a soft huff of air in surprise as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. Your heart was pounding at his reaction, but you slowly hugged him in return.

"So the secret activities you were out doing, and the whispered phone calls were all because you were trying to get this for me?"

You nodded with a soft chuckle, "Took me three different stores and hours of queuing. But it was worth it."

He let out a soft sigh, "I thought I lost you."

You hummed, "What do you mean? Did you think that if I got a boyfriend I would drop you or something?"

He continued to rest his head on your shoulder, "Yes...No. I thought..." trailing off, he pulled away and looked into your eyes.

They were glossy and you saw emotion behind them you had only ever seen reflected in your own eyes in the past.

Leaning forward he pressed an unexpected, and soft kiss to your lips before pulling away again. "I thought I had lost you."

You were shocked, staring blankly at him for a moment before you took in a soft breath.

"Seonghwa, I- I..." You stuttered out, uncertain of how to respond.

He smiled softly as he gently brushed his fingers across your cheek. "I thought I lost you to someone else before I could ever be with you. Not just as your friend, but as your boyfriend. I'm sorry it took me until now, until I thought I lost you, to realize how much I wanted you all to myself."

You bit the inside of your cheek, so many thoughts rushing through your mind without knowing how to react. Relief, excitement, and shyness all rushed over you as you stepped forward and pressed your face into his neck. You were overwhelmed with the sudden confession and Seonghwa could see it all over your face.

He gently cupped the back of your head as he pressed a soft kiss to your head before whispered into your ear. "I can't really tell if you are accepting my feelings or not."

You chuckled into his shoulder as you nodded, before pulling away. "I am. I'm just..." You let out a bewildered chuckle "I wasn't expecting it."

He smiled as he cupped your face again. "I'll give you time to process it." Leaning forward and he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, smiling at the way it obviously made you feel shy.

Taking your hand in his he chuckled softly. "How about we talk it over while building this." He tapped the box and you chuckled and nodded.

"Okay."

He grinned at you as he squeezed your hand. "Okay."

Wooyoung:

When you cooked especially for him...

Wooyoung had been so busy recently with the groups upcoming album that he had been surviving off of snacks and take-out.

You noticed this, and knew how much he loved a home-cooked meal.

So you decided to surprise him one day when he actually got off practice early.

You went to his dorm (you have a key) and made him all his favorite dishes, ready to surprise him.

Wooyoung was tired, as usual, but had promised to hang out with you tonight. And no matter how tired he was, he would not cancel on you.

He missed you.

He hadn't been able to see you apart from the occasional coffee break when he had free time the last week or two.

You said you would meet him at his dorm, but when he saw no sign of you he was disappointed, the excitement of seeing you having built up on his ride home.

Entering his dorm, he was immediately smacked with an abundance of amazing smells.

His stomach immediately woke up as hungry quickly filled him.

Walking into the kitchen in curiosity. His eyes landed on you as you were chopping up some vegetables.

Looking up, your eyes caught his before a bright grin spread across your face.

"You're back! Hungry?"

Wooyoung's eyes stuck to you, as though he was seeing the most beautiful piece of artwork to exist.

His heart skipped and his breath caught.

Were those butterflies in his stomach?

You were wearing one of his aprons, some unknown smears on it, as well as a few spots on your face.

The grin and bright-eyed look you gave him felt as though he was feeling the sun for the first time in years.

Finally his eyes dropped to the table, where various ingredients and dishes sat.

"Wh-what is this?" He finally muttered out, an incredulous smile forming on his face.

"Dinner! You told me you haven't been eating very well recently, and you wanted to hang out so I thought I might as well cook for us, then you can do both!"

Wooyoung set down his bag as he approached, looking at all the familiar dishes, some he taught you how to make. Seeing the smile on your face as you continued he couldn't look away from you.

"This wont take much longer, go clean up!"

"This is a lot, don't you want help?"

You shook your head fervently before shooing him "Go go, I got it."

Wooyoung reluctantly made his way to his room, looking back almost the whole time to watch you, his heart fluttering in his chest as his neck and ears burned.

Wooyoungs exhaustion took a back seat as excitement and infatuation took over. He always wondered if his feelings for you were stronger than friendship. Sometimes the lines blurred when you two were together, when the tension felt different. But neither of you acted, and he never fully tried to figure it out. Fear of it being unrequited, or ruining your friendship caused him to avoid acknowledging it completely.

But now, how his body and mind were reacting, he knew for sure, he was in love with you. He probably had been for years.

After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, Wooyoung came back into the kitchen to find you setting everything up.

You grinned over at him, "Good timing!"

Wooyoung approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you, pressing his face into your neck.

He felt your body freeze and stiffen against him, your heart beating faster, before relaxing as you chuckled.

"What is this?"

"You cooked for me."

You chuckled, "Yes."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Do you want to help me finish setting it out?"

He shook his head, "No. Not yet."

You stood still, waiting for him to let go, your heart pounding and ears burning hot. When he didn't move you let out a soft giggle as you lightning pushed against him, "Wooyoung."

He whined in your ear and wrapped his arms around you tighter, causing your heart rate to only spike again. You knew he was touchy, you often found him cuddling against you, but this was a bit much. You couldn't handle the extended contact, your heart racing too much.

"I love you."

His voice was soft, a whisper that almost went unheard by you. You froze, "Wh-what?"

He had told you he loved you before, he was your best-friend, it wasn't unusual. You always said it back, because of course you loved him too. But he would never know you loved him a little but differently.

For some reason, the tone of his voice, the emotion behind it this time, felt different. You swallowed telling yourself it was just the same Wooyoung you tapped his arm gently. "I love you too, now let go so we can eat."

Suddenly spinning you around to face him he pulled you into his chest, holding you firmly. "No. Not until you understand what I mean."

Your chest was tight, heart beating crazy, breath uneven. "What?"

His mouth brushed your ear as he spoke again, "I love you. I'm in love with you."

As your chest began to tighten you found yourself unable to breath. Wooyoung pulled away from you and gently gripped your arms as he moved his face to rest his forehead against yours, your noses brushed as your eyes met.

You took in a sharp breath, "For how long?" You asked, your voice a whisper.

"A long time, I think. It's been slowly building up, but I can't push it away anymore. I don't want too."

"And if I don't feel the same?"

You saw his eyes waver before he spoke slowly. "Then I'll wait until you do."

"And...if I do feel the same?"

A soft smile ghosted his lips, "Then I will never let you go."

There was a moment of silence, as tension built between you before you finally whispered in response,

"Promise?"

His eyes brightened at this, telling him not only you did feel the same, but you wanted to be with him. A smile spread across his face before he quickly leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was short, but intense, when he pulled away you could tell it was reluctant.

He met your eyes again with a bright smile. "I promise."

xx End xx

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[sinful-lanterns]

TWICE THE SPICE

synopsis: threesome pairs with the ptn women

featuring: zoya, bai yi, rahu, shalom, langley, nightingale, chelsea, eirene

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, thre.esomes, rough s.ex, double pen.etration, an.al, transfem characters (zoya, bai yi, rahu), exhibition, voy.eurism, fing.ering, pet play, pet names, cunnilingus, face sitting, marking, strap ons, mentions of a sugar mommy and sugar baby relationship, not proofread.

art credits: what does the fox say

ZOYA AND BAI YI

“Well damn, I didn’t know pretty girls could take a cock this well…”

Bai Yi laughed rather mockingly before thrusting her cock forward to meet with the rapid thrusts of Zoya pounding you from behind. Your body was practically molded and smothered between the two Syndican gangsters, as them being gangsters, made a bet to see who could get their cock in deepest within your body. Bai Yi won the coin toss, so she was currently stuffed four to five ish inches into your pussy, while Zoya got your tight ass. The Legion leader practically grunting with each shallow thrust, as you were squeezing around her length so damn tightly.

“F-Fuck…hah…did’ya really win the coin toss, Bai Yi? Cuz’ her ass is squeezing me so fucking good…gnngh…”

Gripping your hips with a force that felt restrained —mostly because it was two S-Class sinners that were currently fucking you— your legs were suddenly lifted off the floor thanks to the combined strength of Zoya and Bai Yi pulling you up to meet their lips. Sloppy tongues and slippery trails of saliva coating your lips and neck like you were a plate that needed to be polished, as Bai Yi slipped her tongue into your mouth, and Zoya sucked a hickey on your throat.

“Mmpf…something about you just doesn’t quite hit the same as Syndicate escorts…” Bai Yi mumbles, sliding her length back out, only to slam it back in again to watch you lurch. “Maybe it’s that sweet, adorable innocence you don’t see everyday in a wasteland such as Syndicate…or…”

“Oh, shut up.” Zoya groans, pulling your head back from behind and pushing her hips even deeper, “Just stop talking, I can’t hear her moans…”

“Tch, such a hard ass…” Bai Yi giggles, but not before pulling your thighs over to wrap around her waist. “Here, this should be a comfortable position for ya, hm? Pretty girls like you like to be comfortable while they get spoiled.” 

Another heavy thrust from behind pulls a rather squeamish cry from you, Zoya’s length hitting even further than before, despite how much resistance your body was giving her as she was plowing you from behind. Bai Yi notices this of course, teal eyes glimmering with that spark of possessiveness that sinners seemed to contain, as she suddenly squeezed your thighs tighter and began thrusting at a pace that felt inhumane. 

“Oh, does the leader of the Legion think she can out-fuck me? The fastest woman in all of Syndicate?” She lets out a scoff and smirks rather cruelly. “Not a chance, ya giant meathead.”

All of a sudden, you felt Bai Yi activate her sinner ability for a brief moment, and soon she was hammering her length into you and pulling cries out like it was second nature. 

“Hah…Hah…f-fuck…beat that you meathead.” Bai Yi teased, face flushed with ecstasy as the speed she was going at had also increased the pleasure for her. Zoya was not having it, as she scowled at the way you were falling limp onto Bai Yi, causing her to let out a possessive growl. 

“You’re going to wish you never did that…” with a hefty push, Zoya practically shoved her entire cock in the rest of the way, causing you to scream rather pleasurably from the way these two sinners were fucking you to the brim. You’ve never felt so full in your life, yet it seemed like Zoya and Bai Yi weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Well, perhaps you don’t want them to stop anytime soon, but that’s okay. Zoya and Bai Yi have the stamina to keep up for hours. And they made sure you knew that by keeping you in their grips till you were unable to stand.

RAHU AND SHALOM

“Oh Rahu, you’re making such a mess on the floor. That isn’t proper for our guest…”

Rahu groaned as she was currently kneeling on the floor of Shalom’s bedroom, precum dripping down her shaft, as Shalom chuckled and spread your pussy lips a bit wider, giving Rahu a tempting treat. Somehow the wicked woman and her lapdog had tricked you into letting them undress you, yet given the position you were in now, you weren’t really complaining as Shalom and Rahu were easily some of the hottest women you’d ever had the pleasure of being with. And that spoke volumes given how many pretty sinners there were at the Bureau.

Rahu groaned a bit and shamelessly swallowed a bit of drool that had piled up in her throat. Just the sight of Shalom sitting behind you, fully clothed while you were stripped naked, Shalom’s fingers toying with your dripping cunt while Rahu could only stare and watch, has the woman fighting against the urge to jack off, knowing full well that Shalom would punish her later. 

The poor bodyguard was left watching with hungry eyes as you whimpered such breathtaking sounds, Shalom’s beautiful fingers pinching at your clit, before slowly sliding into your cunt and making the most soaked of noises with your pussy.

“My sweet Rahu, do you hear that?” Shalom smiles and coos into your ear. “That’s the sound of a delightfully wet pussy, just begging for it to be stuffed full by someone…”

She grins rather mockingly at the way Rahu was barely able to keep it together, before leaning in to kiss your right ear and sink her fingers even deeper. “See how good my Rahu is? Literally salivating at the thought of splitting you open on her dick. Yet she’s so obedient that she’s waiting for my command, not even jerking off like a good puppy…”

When you let out a small cry of pleasure from Shalom’s finger rubbing at your walls, Rahu flinches and looks up at you with the most neediest of eyes you’ve ever seen. Another glob of precum slides down her stiffening shaft, and she actually lets out a whimper, begging for Shalom to let her touch you.

“Shalom, I…”

“Hush, pet.” Shalom whispers, eyes not even meeting hers, as she was laser focused on the way your cunt was just swallowing her in. “You’ll get your turn when I say so, but for now, let me savor this sweet little treat…”

You whine when she suddenly tilts your head back for a kiss, the sight of her mistress kissing such a cute woman causing Rahu to groan and twitch her cock with need. “Shalom…”

“So impatient you are…” Shalom tuts, finally, finally turning to Rahu while squishing your face with her free hand. “You’re practically rock hard just from watching. Don’t you have any shame?” 

Rahu’s eyes flicker down in an act of guilt, before slowly training her eyes back up to stare at your beautifully puffy pussy. 

“…No, I don’t.” Rahu whimpers softly, seemingly eager to sheath her shaft inside you. 

“Hm, a bit honest there, aren’t we?” Shalom chuckles, before sliding her fingers out from your cunt to give an experimental taste. “I’ll allow it. As a reward for your honesty, you can have a taste of this…deliciously wet woman.”

The wicked woman smirks as Rahu’s eyes widen in surprise. Almost immediately however, she springs up from her kneeling position on the floor, and grips her cock into her hand, groaning as she was finally able to touch it, before running over and kissing you desperately on the mouth. 

Through muffled whimpers, Rahu angles her cock to slip inside, all the while Shalom giggles and helps spread your legs a little wider.

“Now this should get interesting…”

LANGLEY AND NIGHTINGALE

“Come on Adjutant. That mouth of yours has got to have other uses other than yapping.”

Langley sneers as she pushes the loyal Adjutant down to eat you out with more energy, the Adjutant’s eyebrows furrowing at the disrespect, and pulling away slightly to argue. “With all due respect, Langley. That comment was unnecessary and m-mmpf!” 

“The poor girl is all sensitive and needy, Nightingale. Don’t make her wait any longer than she has to.” Langley flashes you a snide smirk, before shoving Nightingale back down to continue eating you out. “Atta girl. Gotta reward the rookie when she deserves it, yeah?”

While Nightingale so desperately wanted to argue back, she couldn’t deny how soft and addicting your pussy felt on her tongue. All it took was a few more licks and the poor Adjutant was hooked, gripping your thighs into her hands and smearing her tongue against your clit till her face was covered in slick. 

“Goodness, what a peckish birdie,” Langley chuckles, striding over to where you were currently laying as she wanted to get a good look at you. “Now, to enjoy the rookie’s pretty face…”

She grins as she watches the way your face contorts into expressions of ecstasy, Nightingale’s frantic tongue not even following a singular pattern, as all she wanted to do was taste more and more of your mouth-watering slick. It was clear that Nightingale too, wasn’t as experienced as having sexual intercourse —unlike the infamous 9th Agency leader— however, the clear inexperience of two innocent women lying in her bed, was too attractive for Langley not to get aroused over.

“Oh, Adjutant…” Langley chuckles, admiring the pussy-drunk expression on the blue-haired woman’s face. “Have you ever eaten out a woman before? Your moves are amateur and the expression you’re making makes it seem so.”

Nightingale ignores the Agency leader’s probing words, and continues sliding her tongue deeper into your cunt, causing you to writhe and let out a surprised gasp. 

“…Hm. Well, I suppose sloppy movements would feel like heaven to another woman who’s never been eaten out before.” Langley chuckles and caresses your face with both hands, giving it a gentle squeeze before standing back up to unzip her skirt. “However, I do want to see women improve when dealing with things in the bedroom, so let’s take this as a practice session for you two.”

Nightingale could barely register her words, but you can, looking  up at the way Langley smirked down at you and dropped her skirt to the floor. “Whaddya say, rookie. Up for a little challenge with your boss?” She lets out a husky chuckle and peels her panties off to reveal a glistening wet pussy. “I’d like to see how good your tongue game is compared to the little bird.”

She casts Nightingale a knowing glance, and she manages to hear it but couldn’t care less. All she does is continue digging her tongue into your folds, groaning and rubbing her thighs together as she couldn’t wait to be serviced next in your little session with Langley.

Meanwhile, Langley gently taps your cheek and forces you to pay attention to her. There was a glint of jealousy in her eyes when she saw how you were looking at Nightingale with bedroom eyes, but they left as soon as they came. “Eyes up here, rookie. Mouth open, tongue out.” 

In a dazed state, you obediently listen, parting your lips to await the the sweet arrival of Langley’s cunt on your face, and a blissful moan of ecstasy climbs through your throat the moment she gets herself seated. 

“Oh…rookie…” Langley breathes out, smirking and getting herself comfortable. “I was right for picking you. You’re the perfect addition to Nightingale and I’s nighttime sessions.” 

Nightingale makes a muffled moan at that, bumping her nose against your clit and giving your inner thigh a small kiss. 

“Now, let’s see how good you are at using that tongue, rookie.”

CHELSEA AND EIRENE

“Oh please, like that strap on is big enough for my baby…”

Chelsea rolled her eyes at the strap that Eirene presented herself with, and pointed to her own strap like it was the bigger and better one in comparison to Eirene’s. 

“Your strap is missing girth. My sugar baby loves it when I buy her all the thicker toys.” 

“Oh, please.” Eirene scoffs and runs a hand down her strap, caressing it rather sensually as she knew you were staring at it with curious eyes. “Girth is not all that matters. That toy of yours would break her in seconds. Length is what she definitely needs, all your toys are so short and…stubby.” 

She narrows her eyes in a rather condescending way, clearly not enjoying how Chelsea was ridiculing her choice in sex toys. Chelsea picked up on the hostility coming from Eirene’s gaze, and scoffed before turning to you, lying innocently on the bed all sprawled out and waiting for your sugar mommies to tend to you. 

“Dear, you’ve always preferred girth, yes? You love the feeling of being stretched open to your limit and—”

“Don’t get hasty now, Chelsea.” Eirene hums, staring at you with those heterochromatic eyes, “I bet she would enjoy a new feeling for once. Perhaps a longer toy she never got to experience since you always dull her with the same old experiences.”

“Oh you little—”

“Tsk, why don’t we just ask her then? See what she prefers.”

They both turn to you at the same time, startling you as you didn’t expect to be caught in the middle of the turmoil. You weren’t sure of how to respond at first, but before you could even open your mouth and utter a word, Chelsea beat you to it.

“You know what, forget this. What better way than to settle this, than by fucking her with each toy. Then, we can ask her for her opinion afterwards when she’s all spent out. I’m getting antsy just standing here.” Eirene’s eyebrow raised at Chelsea’s bold claim, yet the prospect of a competition (especially a competition regarding you) had the chess prodigy standing on her toes. 

“…Alright then. Let’s settle this once and for all.” She declares, moving over to the bed and tapping you so that you’d get into position. Doggy style, since Eirene loved admiring your soft back. “I fuck her first. It’s only fair given how I was the first to get to her.”

“Ughhh…” Chelsea groans before making her way to where your mouth was, tapping your chin and making you look up at her. “I’m sorry, my sweet baby. Looks like I’ll have to fuck your mouth this time for the first round. Get my cock nice and lubed up, okay? I’ll be fucking you next round.”

Though a bit upset that Eirene beat her to the punch (or rather, pussy) Chelsea smiled nonetheless and pressed the tip of her strap to your lips. At the same time, you felt Eirene press the tip of her strap to the entrance of your cunt, both women prepared to fuck you senseless, as nothing motivated them more than to spoil you with absolute ecstasy. 

“We’ll see who she likes better, Miss Eirene.”

“Likewise, Countess Chelsea.” 

And as they both smirked in good sportsmanship, both women raised their hips and slowly descended into you, causing you to simultaneously moan and gag at the same time. They sure do love their sugar baby…

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 1

I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan

You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding

~3.8k words

As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.

The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.

It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.

Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.

As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.

It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.

She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.

A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.

She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.

As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.

The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.

It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.

“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.

The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.

His grin was adorable.

The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.

He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.

By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.

He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.

“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.

Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”

He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”

“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.

“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”

“Well...no...”

“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.

“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?

He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.

She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”

“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”

“A fight?”

“Boxing.”

“Boxing?” She repeated.

“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”

“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”

“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.

She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.

“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”

“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.

“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.

“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.

“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”

“Are you hard of hearing?”

He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.

“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”

“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”

“By coming to watch your fight?”

He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.

Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.

“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”

“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.

Cupcake.

What was she getting herself into?

She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”

He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”

It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”

It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”

It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.

He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.

When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"

But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”

“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”

She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”

They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.

Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”

“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.

“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.

“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”

“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.

“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.

Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.

Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”

She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”

He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.

It was definitely not a magic show.

Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”

“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”

“You hit Clay?”

“Who’s Clay?”

“His car!”

“He named his car, Clay?”

“Like Cassius Clay?”

Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”

“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”

“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”

She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”

Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”

Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”

Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.

At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.

Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”

“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.

“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.

As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.

“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.

“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”

Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”

“Told you,” Niall assured her.

“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”

“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.

Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”

Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.

Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.

He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”

--

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You rub your lower back as you enter the bakery. You focus on the simple task; just a loaf of bread. You have a weak spot for the sourdough there. Just thinking about it, you could salivate.

You wait behind another customer. You think she works at the bank but you’ve never been very good with faces, even in a small town like Hammer Ford. Others don’t seem to have that issue as your name easily rolls off their tongues. The whispers are getting louder now that you can’t hide as easily.

The bank clerk sidles along the counter and glances over her shoulder as you shuffle forward. She sends you a judgmental look but you reserve any of the same. Everyone knows she’s sneaking around with the manager down at her branch.

You tug your shirt down as it threatens to ride further up your stomach. Everything’s too tight these days. Everything’s uncomfortable. Your fingers linger on the hem, touching the taught flesh beneath. Four months now.

“Hi,” you greet the woman behind the till, “can I get a loaf of the sourdough. I’ll take the day old for the discount if you got it.”

She smiles brightly and repeats your order, asking if there’s anything else. You say no. You budgeted for the bread, even a tea would put you too close to the line. She grabs you a loaf and she keys in the day-old discount.

You pay as she slips the wrapped loaf into a paper bag. Before you can turn away, she stops you, “have a cookie,” she points to the plate of shortbread beside the small specials sign. “They’re not moving.”

“I can’t,” you argue.

“You’re doing me a favour. I don’t like to throw them away,” she insists.

You smile sheepishly and take a cookie, hugging the bag above your stomach as you turn and nibble on the cookie. You cross to the door, juggling your armload as you open it, and leaving without a look back. You hear your name again before the door closes.

Who’s the father…

That’s the big question. You’re not married, not dating, so who could it be? The same question got you kicked out of your mother’s house. The pharmacy let you the dingy bachelor above as you spend your days working a till at the front.

You won’t say it, even to dispel the murmurs. You know it wouldn’t solve anything, only add fuel to the fire. ‘She should’ve known better. The golden prince of Hammer Ford is a known playboy. Why wouldn’t she be safe? Why wouldn’t she be responsible?’ They wouldn’t ask the same of him.

As you turn onto the street, your arm hits someone else and you drop the cookie. It cracks on the pavement and you look down, leaning forward to see the ruins. You deflate. Oh well, it was free, after all.

“Sorry,” a voice draws your attention from the spoiled shortbread. You look up at the man. You know him, you think. Again, you’re no good with faces.

He runs his hand over his shaved head then drags it around his beard, “I’ll get you another.”

“No, you don’t have to,” you wave him off, “I should go…”

“Miss, it’s the right thing to do,” he insists.

“Really, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I should’ve looked where I was going.”

“Me too,” he agrees. 

You tilt your head and push a shoulder up, “well, have a good one.”

You turn to cross the road, looking both ways. As you step down from the curb, the man does the same. Why can’t you remember his name? You swear you ran into him before. Down at The Horn with… him.

He walks parallel to you as you cross the street. You stop and look at him, confused.

“Just seeing you across, miss.”

“Uh, thanks, that’s very nice but you don’t have to do that,” you chuckle nervously.

“I know. Just what I’m trained to do.”

You remember, he’s a soldier. Yeah, Thor mentioned that. Just thinking his name stings.

“Right, well, thanks, I appreciate that,” you put your hand on your stomach and haul the bag higher, turning toward the pharmacy just a shop down.

You hear him follow you again. It makes you nervous. Is he going to the pharmacy? It could be a coincidence, it’s a small town. Still, it’s very odd.

You go to the door just past the store entrance and take out your key. He comes right up and watches you, looming strangely at your shoulder. You hold onto your key and face him.

“You’re pregnant,” he says as if you don’t know.

“Uh, yeah,” you nearly laugh, “I am.”

“Shouldn’t be carrying all that,” he says.

“Just bread,” you answer.

“That father should be getting you bread,” he argues.

You’re put off by his demeanour. He speaks as if he’s giving orders to the world around him. You guess that’s just his nature.

“He won’t be doing that,” you shake your head. “I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t remember me,” he adds, “I remember you. You were dancing and drinking.” He looks again at your stomach. You put your hand over it defensively.

“I wasn’t like this then.”

“You weren’t,” he frowns then points to your finger, “no ring?”

This is awkward. Where everyone else in Hammer Ford is happy to whisper behind their hands, he’s interrogating you in the street. You shake your head and look down.

“Must not be a real man who did that,” he comments, “I’m Sy, just to remind you.”

“Sy,” you sniff, “right, I–”

He says your name first, “I remember.” He taps his temple, “I won’t forget.”

You swallow and the bag crinkles against your chest, “I’m… gonna go, uh, Sy, my feet hurt.”

“Be safe,” he commands.

“Thanks,” you utter awkwardly and stick your key in the slot. He stands staunchly as he is and as you pull the door open, he reaches to open it all the way and holds it, “got it.”

You keep the fragile smile on your lips and bow inside. He lets it close slowly and you pause to make sure he’s on the other side. You twist the lock into place and recoil. That was very weird.

[rustedhearts]

the one where rafe shows his true colors…

rolly’s blurbs

“get in the truck.”

the slow crunch of gravel follows you at snail’s pace down the road. flanked by heavy willows and the fading hum of young-adult-debauchery, you feel safer on the one-way road back home than you do in small confines with rafe.

the truck headlights beacon over the dirt, and he has the windows rolled all the way down to hang out from. his signet ring glints in the corner of your eye when his hands twitch, but you don’t look over. you glare straight ahead and keep a steady, nonchalant pace. arms crossed, sweater wound tight around your waist.

you refuse to let him know he’s rattled you, though everyone at the house now thirty paces behind you knows he did.

and despite the blowout between the pair of you in the corner of the laundry room, rafe seems more concerned with finding the right song. beats start only to abruptly end as he bangs on the skip button.

“honey. just get in.”

he sounds bored. he sounds expectant.

he sounds like what just happened is going to happen again.

and something about that thought wires your mouth shut. it sends a cold shock through your chest and in the cool autumn evening, you shiver.

you thought he loved you. you thought you loved him. but you couldn’t love a man like this.

rafe settles on a song and it pulses through the truck with heavy bass. he turns it down until it’s nothing but a low buzz.

“jesus, just—just get in the truck.”

he’s losing the steadiness to his voice. he’s getting impatient, and you just saw what happens when he gets impatient.

“i want to walk home, rafe,” you tell him, and it’s far too kind.

much too quiet for what he just did to you.

“what? no. no, get—honey, just get in the truck.”

you speed up a little. truly, you didn’t mean to. you just want him to go away, leave you alone. you need to breathe and even in all the open air of the night, you can’t fucking breathe.

the tires give a little whir when he speeds up to match your pace.

and now you’re running away. from him?

rafe leans further out of the window, and you jump when he bangs his hand hard on the steel door.

“get in the fucking truck!”

your eyes begin to burn, blurring with wetness. you sniffle and wipe your nose with the cuff of your sleeve, feel your chin quiver. there’s so much aching in your chest and it hurts.

the truck comes to a hard stop, and you’re a few paces ahead when rafe disrupts the yellow glow of the headlights. it’s dark for only a split second before he’s on the road behind you, a big and heavy force of heat.

“goddamn it, stop,” he barks sternly.

his hand stops you himself, latching onto your elbow to whip you around. you instantly plant your hand on the center of his chest for distance.

“rafe,” you gasp.

that’s why you were here. for this exactly. his hand around your arm, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes like small slits under angled brows. that distant look he only gets when he’s coked out—but now, you realize it’s how he looks when he’s upset, too.

it’s a quick but miserable realization.

he’s high. he gets angry when he’s high.

he hurts you when he’s high. shoves you into the washer of his friend’s house and yells so loudly that people start poking their head into the room to check on you. towers over you until you cower. grabs you so hard it stings. growls at you like a spoiled child until your heart hammers.

“don’t look at me like that,” he demands, pulling you closer and forcibly bending your arm between your chests. “you have to learn your place here.”

the tears burn intensely on their way out. a scoff shoots from your mouth and it’s thick with disbelief and the onset of a cry.

“my place? what—“

“d-don’t what me. don’t what me. i’m in charge here, alright? i am.”

you give your arm a tug, use the other to push as hard as you can. “let go of me.”

“get in the truck.”

your hand stings when it makes contact on his cheek. “no! no, you’re fucking crazy. let me go, rafe.”

you’re crying now, whimpering out words you can’t tell if you mean. you love him, it aches so horribly in your heart. but he isn’t supposed to love you like this.

this wasn’t the rafe four months clean and doing well. this wasn’t the rafe that brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. this wasn’t the rafe that asked where you wanted to go to dinner, that listened when you rambled from across the candlelit table.

this wasn’t the rafe you knew.

it was the rafe you’d been warned about. the rafe you promised no longer existed.

the rafe he promised no longer existed.

“you’ll leave,” he mumbles and he was stepping closer again, his cheek flaming red and white in the shape of your fingers. “if i let go, you’ll leave.”

a snotty sniffle answers him. his fingers loosen on your arm.

“you can’t treat me like this, rafe.”

his touch softens to a cradle. his hands move down to your waist, molding to the divots above your hips.

“i know,” he coos. “i know, baby. i-i didn’t mean to.”

“you’re high.”

he sighs, head falling to your shoulder. he tips it, nose dragging along your neck. his shoulders are hunched, knees a little bent to fold into you.

“jus’ did a bump. one time, baby, promise.”

you close your eyes, squeezing a tear loose across his neck. your hands ball together tightly at your sides. he runs his hands up and down your waist under the flaps of your sweater. his thumbs massage into your stomach. his breath is hot on your neck.

“i love you,” he whines. “i love you, i do. i’m sorry.”

you bring your hand to his back, letting your fingers unfurl. they splay flat across his t-shirt, and soon you find yourself petting him. comforting him.

“i know. i love you, too.”

you find yourself asking—as he stands to his height and laces your hands together—just how much.

he hoists you into the passenger of the truck and clicks your belt on. takes your head in his hands and tugs you down to kiss your head. he turns the radio dial and boosts the bass of the music as the truck zooms down the road toward his house.

you’ll stay the night in his bed, in his clothes, and let him kiss the bruise from the corner of the washing machine like it was meant to be there.

evidently, you realize:

a little too much.

[yuellii]

“ ooo, you wanna kiss me so bad! ” — furina / gn reader

There was something about the way this was easily the happiest she’s felt since she left the Palais.

It was mostly endearing, really (at least, she hoped it was), that you brought her mouthfuls of macarons and cake to stuff into her face like a woman starved of such a delicacy; though, she can’t help but plead a tad of gracelessness from the way she lived her life nowadays, barren of luxury in this small apartment.

She squealed happily, even so. “Oh, how I miss the Palais’ cooking!” she reveled in delight.

“Well, when you’ve been consuming nothing but macaroni these days, Lady Furina…”

“What?” she almost snarls defensively. Her cheeks flare red in embarrassment. Perhaps you didn’t fancy the bare basic, messy life she was showing you now… “Macaroni is good!”

You moved carefully, her eyes following your hands as they poured her more tea. “It is, my lady,” you didn’t deny. “But I can’t imagine you going a day, much less weeks, without something sweet for dessert.”

She almost crumbles from humiliation from that. Though you ( probably, she once again hopes ) did not mean your words in any insulting magnitude, there was no denying the shame she felt prickling at the corners of her eyes, nor the sharpness welling at the back of her throat. It was purely mortifying to have someone as special you think of her that way—her, as some spoiled, immature, strictly-sweet dieted bratty archon.

“Well…” she stutters out. She notices as your movements suddenly hesitate—perhaps there was something in her voice you’ve never heard before.

( And there was, truthfully so. There was a inkling of disappointment stemmed from a certain sadness you’d never imagine to hear from the all-magnificent, all-showcasing Furina de Fontaine. )

“Well, what you’re imagining is the archon you once knew,” she simply concluded, albeit quietly so. “Not me.”

There is a silence that ensues for just a moment; and curse her tendency to overthink, for now she was sweating over the way you thought of her. Perhaps it will finally hit that you pretty much knew nothing of her at all, and maybe then, you’d leave her alone. But she prayed that didn’t happen—once she’s gotten a taste of your company, she couldn’t quite let that feeling of companionship go. And… whatever other feelings came alongside it. But she could ignore that part of it, for now.

“That’s…” you started, and she tensed visibly, “true.” You pick up a red colored macaroon. It’s raspberry flavored. “I don’t know you, but I’d like to think that Furina also has a liking for sweets, if that is correct?”

She almost shivers when you say her name. No title, no formalities, just… her name. It sounds sweeter than the treat in your hand.

What more when you lift up the macaroon so delicately between your fingertips, and when your body leaned in. Her breath is practically caught in her throat when you press the edge of the macaroon gently between her lips, and it takes all of her brainpower just to open her mouth to bite it. Oh Archons, you just fed her… so improperly, too, like as a friend rather than a servant. She can feel her heart hammering painfully at her chest as her mind is screaming when her lips accidentally brush against your thumb—why is the surface area of this macaroon so small?!

Feeling embarrassed once more, she quickly snatches the rest of the bitten macaroon out of your hands so she can take the second and final bite on her own.

“Just Furina who still likes sweets…” she pondered aloud after chewing. “That’s… That’s right!” She brightly smiles to herself, “As I am a common civilian of society now, I know not to waste food on the table!” She talks quickly to attempt at quelling the redness on her face, though she does not know how well that is working. Her eyes frantically scan the table for any hopes of a conversation diversion, and they land on the plated cookies right in front of you. “And in any case, you look like you aren’t interested in eating, anyways—can I have your cookies?”

“All yours,” you wave off, and she visibly grows excited as her hand darts out in front of you. “Just don’t take the shortbread— Furina!”

She grabs the only shortbread cookie left on the platter with a force so strong it almost breaks it in half. And all the while, there is a sparkling mischief in her eyes. She knew this brand of shortbread cookies were your favorite—and she watched as they were the only thing you’ve been eating this whole time. And to make matters more infuriating? You knew she didn’t even like them!

Now, Furina definitely did not expect you to be so passionate about your shortbread to the point where you would dive forward to collide with her body, and reach your hand to grab the cookie before she put it in her mouth. Even as she sat up, there was a certain childish silliness in your expression that you’d never shown her before—one that made her heart throb so painfully hard she… accidentally comepletely ate the cookie she was supposed to only tease you with.

Oops.

“Furina!” you whined, visibly pouting as you leaned back. “I was saving that one!”

And here she was, sitting completely flustered ( and maybe a little lovestruck ) at your exchange. So, she does the only thing she knows how to: she talks.

“First you feed me,” she begins to blabber. “Then you try to steal a cookie that was already in my mouth—” Where was she going with this again? She thinks she might be staring at your lips a little too long right now; she lost her train of thought. “Your fixation on my lips means you want to kiss me, oh my Archons!”

She looks away once your expression changes, not wanting to deal with that just yet.

“You want to kiss me sooo bad, you look stupid trying to—”

…

“If you could just shut. Up.”

…You just kissed her. The words you just said, so deeply mean and informal, did not even register; because before you even said them, you just kissed her. Mouth agape, she feels sick—Did that really just happen? Did you really just—?

“Furina?” you called, shaking her shoulder from the side. “Furina, are you okay?”

“You idiot!” she yelled, turning and grabbing both your hands in hers. The color red was washed all over her face, coating her entire expression in flushed embarrassment as she stuffed the warmth of her face in your balled hands. “That was my first kiss, you’re so mean!”

She couldn’t even think right now, heart pounding wildly against her lungs as her mind searched—searched to remember the feeling of your lips against hers. Oh good Gods, she felt sick. Sick, and starved, and desperate, and delusional, and downright drowned in her own doom. This was so humiliating. She kind of just wanted to die in front of your hands right now.

“You’re the one who stole my cookie, and then kept teasing me!” you exclaimed back, freeing your hands to gently grab her face between them. She pouted into your hold, eyes closed before they could brim with tears from embarrassment. “If kissing you made you stop—?!”

Two could play at that game when Furina herself leaned in now to kiss you, leaving your hands hanging in the air behind her as her own hands moved to secure your face against hers, not letting you move.

A muffled “Furina—!” draws from your lips before she dives back in to her kiss, shutting you up completely just as how you did to her.

It’s pretty effective. She thinks she likes this way of getting you to be quiet.

this is my girlfriend she loves mac and cheese 👍 i’m really not the best with silly funny stuff like this but i tried </3 in the future, i really want to write furina in my style ! // not proofread

🕰️ // @definitelynotaneulasimp @ryuryuryuyurboat @naraven <3

[xxsabitoxx]

How the Pillars react to your death

Important note: all of these deaths occur during the infinity castle arc, heavy and implied spoilers. Rengoku’s reaction to your death takes place before Mugen Train! Reader’s gender is unspecified.

Warnings: this post contains spoilers for the final arc of the manga. This includes implied spoilers for various characters. Please do not read this if you don’t want to be spoiled and don’t blame me if you go ahead and read it anyways lol

A/N: I wrote this whole post in my head while showering last night and I’m honestly offended it took me 3x as long to actually write it.

Giyu 

“CAWWW! DEAD! KOCHO SHINOBU AND L/N Y/N ARE DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!” Giyu’s body comes to a screeching halt, Tanjiro shooting past him before falling to his knees as violent sobs wracked his body. Giyu, on the other hand, is frozen in place, a sob stuck in his throat. Shinobu’s death was a punch to the gut, but you? For the first time since Sabito had died, Giyu felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. Yet, nothing would come out, those tears wouldn’t break the barrier and slip down his cheeks. His tight throat would not let the sob escape. There was no possible way you were gone, you promised him you’d be okay. Though, childish beliefs like that reminded him of his own faults. Once again, he couldn’t protect the people he cared about. Rather than wallowing in sudden grief, he began moving again, past Tanjiro who was struggling to get back up. He needed to keep moving, if he didn’t stop, he was certain he would collapse entirely and never get up again. He couldn’t let your sacrifice go to waste. 

Shinobu 

Her feet barely hit the ground, body manoeuvring through the endless castle with one destination in mind. “CAWWW! DEAD! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING UPPER MOON TWO!” She stumbles, shock hitting her like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Her mind is racing, not willing to believe what the crow had just said to be true. You had steered away from the plan. In a desperate attempt to save Shinobu’s life you tried to defeat Upper Two yourself. Hot, angry tears are spilling down her cheeks, hand clutching her heart as she tries to understand. “Why would you do this? Why wouldn’t you take my word for it and go with Tomioka? Look what you did… you went and got yourself killed,” Yet again, Upper Two had taken something precious to her. One word flashed through her mind, alongside your beautiful face. Revenge. She would get her revenge, not only for Kanae, but for you. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be with you soon.” 

Rengoku 

It’s quiet, too quiet even. You should be back by now, the sun has fully risen. Kyojuro’s heart is hammering in his chest, doom creeping up his spine. He has an unshakable bad feeling about your late arrival. His worst fears are confirmed when your crow arrives without you. “No…” breathless, as if all the air is being ripped from his lungs. “Don’t say it…” his knees are giving out as your crow lands on the wooden porch. “T-they’re gone…aren’t they?” he chokes it out, the words are as bitter and burning as bile. Your crow only caws, soft and full of sorrow, unable to share the proper message as Kyojuro begins to sob. He’s curling in on himself, crying so loudly but unable to hear it due to the intensity of the ringing in his ears. It’s a panic attack manifesting in the most intense form. He can’t fathom a world without you, nevermind having to live in one. Senjuro is rushing to his brother's aid, seeing your crow gives him more than enough information to know as tears well in his eyes. 

Tengen

He’s kneeling dutifully outside of Nezuko’s room, Shinjuro by his side. His wives are inside, too stubborn to sit out and not help at all. Their excuse being that Nezuko saved his life, they owe her the same kind of protection now. You on the other hand, were too determined, leaving your retirement to fight the battle against the demon lord himself. Nothing Tengen nor his wives said could convince you to stay on the sidelines. His heart is sinking the moment your crow appears in the distance, he’d recognize it anywhere. “N-no… don’t you dare…” Tengen’s voice is cracking as it lands, Shinjuro is turning his head the other way, knowing what is to come. “Don’t you dare say they are dead…” his voice is rising in his panic, he knows the answer. The commotion has Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru running outside. The moment Hina’s eyes land on your crow, a violent sob escapes her chest, falling to her knees as Makio and Suma come to the same conclusion. “T-they’re dead…aren’t they?!” Makio sobs, Tengen can’t raise his head as your crow delivers your final message. 

Mitsuri 

She’s frozen in place as a crow comes directly for her, fear is ebbing through her body, a cold sweat forming on her brow. She knows the message before the crow can even utter it. “No! Go back! I don’t want to hear it!” Obanai is frozen beside her, grabbing her arm so she doesn’t collapse. The crow circles around her, cawing woefully as she begins to cry. “I-I don’t want to know! Don’t tell me!” she’s hiccupping as Obanai tries to pull her forward, they need to keep moving. “Mitsuri…” his voice is surprisingly soft, the crow is still circling overhead. “We need to hear the message…” she shakes her head, hands coming up to cover her ears as tears slip down her cheeks. The crow caws again, Obanai signals for it to deliver the message. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON ONE!” The crow continued on about who lived and who died, what was important is that upper moon one was dead. That didn’t matter to her though, no she couldn’t even hear the rest of the message over the ringing in her years. Mitsuri let Obanai tug her along, they needed to keep moving at whatever the cost. 

Muichiro 

“CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” He keeps running, uncertain as to why he feels a tightness in his chest at the crow’s message. “THEY DIED DURING A CONFLICT WITH UPPER TWO!” He’s still moving, more so concerned over his unexpected and overwhelming sadness. Why am I sad? I don’t even remember that name… but then your kind smile is flashing before his eyes and the world is crashing down around him. He comes to a screeching halt, eyes wide as he finally pieces together the message. “y/n…” how could he ever forget? Before he realizes it, he’s sniffling. Tears blur his vision for a moment before he blinks them away. He begins to move again, the sadness gripping his chest is slowly fading, fading until he can’t even remember why he got teary eyed in the first place. He needs to remember the task at hand… where was he heading again? 

Obanai

The flapping of wings catches him off guard, head craning upwards as the crow begins to caw. The noise is full of sorrow, which can only mean it bears bad news. “Obanai…” Mitsuri is watching the animal circle above them, her heart pounding erratically at the endless possibilities of the message it may share. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED IN BATTLE AGAINST UPPER MOON ONE!” Obanai’s feet are slowing, hitting the floor beneath him with a little too much force as the message rings through his head over and over. “N-no… oh… Iguro I…” Mitsuri is crying, staring at the man beside her as the world seems to cave in on him. It’s as if everything is in slow motion for a few beats in time. The words the crow uttered felt foreign, your name paired with ‘dead’ didn’t make any sense in his mind. It was impossible really, there was no way you were dead. You had gone to face Upper One with Gyomei, Sanemi, Muichiro… four hashira against upper One and you didn’t make it? You were so strong… no the message can’t be correct. “Kanroji… let’s keep moving.” he’s turning it off, every swelling emotion is being suppressed as he takes off again. Mitsuri is left with no choice but to wipe her tears and follow. 

Sanemi

Upper Moon One is standing before him, Gyomei at his side. This battle needed to be won, if not, everything would be lost. The demon before him needed to be put down, there was no other option. He’s talking, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen. Rather, Sanemi is gauging every vital point he can strike and how to go about doing it. “CAWW! I BRING A MESSAGE!” he doesn’t glace up, nothing that crow could say would be able to break his focus. “L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” except for that. Sanemi inhales deeply, eyes widening significantly as he debates on if he heard the message correctly. “THEY DIED DURING AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO! UPPER MOON TWO IS NOW DEAD!” it feels as if all the air in the room had been sucked away with the crow’s flapping wings. Upper One no longer seemed smug about the message after the addition of Upper Two being defeated. Beside him, Gyomei is crying. Sanemi doesn’t realize it, but so is he. He’s oblivious to the hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Still, his patience remains intact, waiting for Gyomei’s signal to attack the high ranked demon. Now, he has absolutely nothing to lose. Kagaya is gone, now you are gone, it is likely the rest of the Hashira wouldn’t make it out of this… he has nothing left to fight for. 

Gyomei “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING MUZAN!” Tears flow freely as he fights, part of him wishes he hadn’t been able to hear the message in the first place. You had met the unfortunate fate of encountering Muzan himself. It was likely that you were alone, if you weren’t, you were likely the strongest in your group. It pained him, knowing you likely died a brutal death. That pain fueled his attacks, taking every ounce of heartbreak and despair out on the demon before him. You didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved a fate that cruel. He keeps moving, mind reeling yet completely focused. It’s as if he is fighting in a bubble, the world muffled around him yet perfectly clear all at once. Too many emotions are raging through his soul to really pinpoint just one of them. He can only hope you’ll wait for him on the other side, he can only pray you’re watching over him at this very moment. Guiding him, giving him strength. “I’ll meet you again soon, don’t worry. I promise I won’t keep you waiting much longer. Wait for me, please? You will, won’t you?”

[libraryofolive]

replacement

featuring: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader

genre: drabble, angst to fluff, hurt comfort (?)

word count: 2k

synopsis: Your boyfriend insists he's over his ex. But if he's over him, why does he keep calling you his ex's name?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, one swear word I think? Not proofread, so there may be some grammar/spelling mistakes

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

The first time it had happened, you understood. A slip of the tongue, you had dismissed it as. You knew your boyfriend, Satoru, hadn't had a real relationship since his messy break up with his ex, Suguru Geto, and old habits die hard. Satoru had apologised, you immediately forgave him, and you both moved on.

Or, at least, tried to move on.

It was hard to forget about the first time it happened when it kept happening.

The second time it happened, it was during your first real argument as a couple. You had confronted Satoru about his recklessness, trying to remind him that being the strongest didn't mean he was invincible. You were worried about him, and tried to express that. You weren't sure when it had started escalating, but at some point the two of you had started screaming at each other.

"Why can't you trust me, Suguru!" He had shouted. Hearing that name again, in such a tense, emotional moment had your heart dropping. You stared at Satoru, tears welling up, and silently left to return to your own apartment. The red hot anger you felt had subdued into a throbbing sadness as you lamented over Satoru's slip-up.

But, he apologised the next day. Both for the shouting, and the argument, and his use of the wrong name. He had had the same argument with his ex, he explained. That's why he said Geto's name instead of yours. Once again, you forgave him, and tried to forget.

Another month or so went by without another incident. You loved Satoru - he never failed to make you laugh, he spoiled you rotten, and you felt on top of the world when you were around him. He called you one night, uncharacteristically inebriated, asking you to pick him up. You struggled to make out his slightly slurred words over the music playing at whatever bar he was in, and eventually Shoko took his phone off him, talking to you instead.

"I don't get it, Sho, why has he been drinking? He told me he doesn't drink. Like, at all." You said to her as you pulled your shoes on, getting ready to collect your boyfriend.

"...He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I- nevermind. I'm sure he'll tell you tomorrow."

"Shoko."

"It's..." you heard her sigh heavily, "it's been two years since he and Geto broke up."

Your heart sank at her words. He went out and got hammered, when he normally turns his nose up at the thought of alcohol, because it was the anniversary of his break up with his ex? The one whose name he keeps calling you? It made you falter. Satoru was always adamant that he was over Geto. That he wouldn't get into another serious relationship until he knew he was over him, hence him solely hooking up with people for one night stands in the gap between your relationship and his and Geto's. You had believed him - he hadn't given you much of a reason not to.

You pulled yourself together and hauled his drunk ass home, his drunken state preventing him from noticing your poorly hid upset. Why hadn't he told you? That's what hurt the hardest. That he hadn't trusted you enough to tell you. You would have tried to understand, or at least go with him to keep an eye on him, but he just told you that he was going to see Shoko and to probably not wait up. You hadn't expected a drunken phone call from your Toru.

Satoru flopped onto your bed, his long limbs sprawled across the entirety of it.

"C'mon, Satoru, at least take your dirty clothes off."

"Are you trying to seduce me babe?" He slurred, attempting to wink at you.

"No. I just don't want your outside clothes on my bed. Get changed." You replied, throwing some pyjamas that he had previously left at your place at him.

" 'm comfy though."

"I don't care. Get changed." You winced at your tone, slightly harsher than you intended. You couldn't bring yourself to be overly concerned with his comfort when you could still feel his ... what was the word for it? Betrayal felt to harsh. Distrust? Deception?

"You remind me of him, yknow..." Satoru's voice was quiet and slow, and you could tell he was starting to fall asleep.

"Remind me of who?" You asked, already knowing the answer, not wanting to hear the answer, but needing him to confirm it.

"Suguru, silly." He yawned. Your heart heavied at his answer, even if you were expecting it. You looked back over at your boyfriend, who was now quietly snoring, still in his day clothes, taking up most of the bed. Where most days you loved to cuddle into Satoru's large form, feeling safe in his embrace, you couldn't bring yourself to lie next to him like nothing was wrong, like he hadn't hurt your heart in his drunken stupor. Instead, you turned out of your room, picking up a spare pillow and blanket, and made you way to your couch.

You struggled to sleep that night, overanalysing your entire relationship. Was that why Satoru was with you? You reminded him of his ex, one that he could still be in love with? When he closed his eyes, did he imagine Suguru Geto instead of you? Were you just a replacement for someone he could never have?

The next morning, Satoru's head was throbbing. He woke up achy, uncomfortable after sleeping in his regular clothes, and cold. Most notably, he woke up in your bed, but alone.

He slowly peeled himself off the bed, leaving your bedroom in attempt to hunt down some painkillers and his girlfriend. He found the former in your kitchen cupboard, downing a couple with a glass of water. It did little to stop the drilling into his skull, but he had more important things to worry about - where the hell were you?

His worry calmed when he noticed a large, blanket-covered lump on your sofa, your feet slightly sticking out of the bottom of it. Why had you slept on the couch? he wondered. He tried to think back to last night - he remembered ringing you, Shoko taking his phone from him, the car ride back to your apartment. One that, now the alcohol had stopped clouding his mind, he realised was full of an awkward silence that only ever happens when you're upset with him. What the hell did he do?

If he knew you weren't upset with him, he would've woken you up in some stupid way to entertain himself. He'd tickle you, or shout loudly in your ear, or even bang a pot and pan together - a practical joke you'd find funny once the irritation of being woken up faded away. But he knew that if he did that today, you'd just be more upset with him. Instead, he gently shook your slumbering body.

"Morning, baby." He whispered.

"Toru?" You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You sat up slowly, stretching your back, sore from being in a cramped position all night.

"Yeah, 's me love. Why'd you sleep out here? You should've just shoved me over if I was taking up too much room."

"I'm mad at you." Any trace of sleep left your voice, being replaced by irritation.

"Did I say something stupid when I was drunk last night? I'm sorry, baby, you'd think that the strongest would be able to hold his liquor."

"It's not just that, Satoru."

"Please, talk to me baby." He moved your feet off the couch and onto the floor so that he could sit next to you. He reached for your hand, but you pulled it away before he could hold it.

"It's-" you sighed, "it's about Geto."

"Suguru? Why? Has he tried to talk to you or something? Baby, I've not spoken to him for two years."

"No- I know you've not seen him. It's not about him, per se, but it's- why is this so hard to put into words?"

"It's okay, I'm listening. Take your time."

"Are you still in love with him, Satoru?"

"What?" His eyes widened as he gasped the word out - that was the last thing he was expecting you to say, ever. "No, of course not! It's been two years, and I'm with you, baby. I wouldn't be with you if I still loved him. What has brought this on?"

You looked at your hands, which were folded in your lap, avoiding his piercing blue gaze. You could feel your eyes watering as you addressed one of your biggest insecurities in your relationship, one that you hadn't realised the extent of until the previous night.

"Last night, you told me that I remind you of him before you fell asleep. And you've called me Suguru before. I know that your relationship was intense, your break-up even more so, but.. it hurts, Toru. I didn't realise how much 'til last night. And Shoko told me that yesterday was the anniversary of your break up. That you were trying to drink your sorrows away. Why didn't you tell me?"

Satoru's heart sank at your confession. He knew he had slipped up a few times, calling you the wrong name. He should've told you what he was actually doing the day before to avoid this exact situation. He put one hand under your chin, lifting it so that you were looking into his eyes. He saw the pain he was feeling over hurting you reflected back tenfold in your own watery eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby. I should've told you what Shoko and I were really up to yesterday."

"Yeah, you should've..." you words trailed off into an awkward silence as you tried to collect your thoughts again. "I just, I don't get it. Why didn't you tell me? If you don't love him anymore, if you want to be with me, why were you drinking? It's so unlike you, Toru. I'm not saying that you shouldn't ever drink, but its scary when I've never seen you take even a sip of booze and then all of a sudden you're calling me to pick you up, drunk."

"I'm not going to lie to you baby, I still miss him. Part of me always will. He was my best friend, before we got together. It's the friendship, that closeness, that I miss. We didn't work together, romantically. I know that. What we have, the way I love you, it's completely different to how I loved Suguru. He was the best friend I ever had. I don't know if I'll ever find a friendship that deep ever again. Romantically, I've moved on from him completely. You are the only person I want to be with. But I think I'll always miss my friend."

During Satoru's speech, the tears in your eyes had started falling rapidly. You could see the pain of losing Suguru in his eyes, sure, but you could also see the love he felt for you. It was that look, that sincerity, that made you forgive him. That reassured you. Satoru Gojo is a charming man - everyone around him knows it. Its one of the things that drew you in in the first place, and he knew how to lay on that charm to get out of tricky situations. But looking into his eyes, seeing that love, reassured you that he wasn't trying to charm his way out of this. That his words reflect how he really felt.

"I- I understand. I think." You said quietly, taking his hands into your own.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you about yesterday."

"I know you are, baby." You leaned in and kissed him gently, a silent way of showing your forgiveness.

"I love you, sweetheart." He whispered, pulling away from your kiss but pressing your foreheads together, not wanting to lose its closeness.

"I know. I love you too." You whispered back, enjoying a raw moment with your lover.

[cartierre]

BROOKLYN BABY | lh44

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader

♡ liked by lewishamilton, sza, lizzo and 493,327 others

yourusername visiting home made me realise how much i missed brooklyn and my girls

view all 3,294 comments

user1 she's so ungrateful? lewis literally made her who she is today and she keeps complaining? ⤷ user2 because she said she misses home? y'all need to chill fr

lewishamilton you're glowing babe ⤷ yourusername the air pollution here is crazy tho my acne is skyrocketing ⤷ user3 see, everytime she opens her mouth she's complaining. what a spoiled lil child.

♡ liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, sza and 382,384 others

yourusername my favourite people on earth

view all 2,340 comments

yourbestfriend where can i get a lewis myself, i need one ⤷ yourusername i can only recommend it to you

user4 i bet lewis feels old in between all these twenty-something year olds ⤷ user5 wait i always forget y/n is like 26 or so ⤷ user6 how can you just forget a 11-year age gap ⤷ user7 maybe because she's mature?

lewishamilton my favourite person on earth ⤷ yourusername are we about to kiss rn

♡ liked by lewishamilton, anokyai, sza and 405,127 others

tagged: gucci

yourusername used to work for you, now i'm sitting front row at your show

view all 2,304 comments

yourbestfriend tell 'em babe!

user8 say "thank you lewis for the money and fame" rn ⤷ user9 i love how everyone is pressed because they wish they'd be y/n

lewishamilton damn

user10 not thanks to your own effort lmao ⤷ user11 she makes it sound like she got there on her own lmfao no babes gucci wouldn't even know who you are without lewis by your side

♡ liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, lizzo and 389,117 others

yourusername today i thanked God for being able to spend time with everyone i love on my birthday. cheers to 27!

view all 1,932 comments

user12 don't thank god, thank lewis ⤷ user13 y'all are mad over every thing it's so funny

yourbestfriend thank you lewis for not only being a professional driver but also the designated driver because i know i was hammered ⤷ yourusername at least you were able to go to sleep after the club, my night didn't end just there ⤷ user14 y/n talking about her and lewis' sex life is so funny to me ⤷ user15 i just know lewis has a lot of stamina

lewishamilton for many more birthday's to be celebrated together to come. i love you baby.

♡ liked by yourusername, naomi, pierregasly and 639,041 others

lewishamilton happy birthday to the girl that made me believe again

comments have been disabled for this post

♡ liked by lewishamilton, sza, pierregasly and 639,041 others

yourusername monaco my love

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lewishamilton no words can describe the love i feel for you ⤷ yourusername babyboy <3

user16 okay but see how much she's changing her style when she's in "posh" monaco compared to brooklyn? ⤷ user17 because she's wearing a nice dress? you do realise people can have multiple styles? ⤷ user18 but it is suspicious how clean she suddenly gets as soon as she's surrounded by rich people ⤷ user19 heavy side eye

yourbestfriend okay but when are you flying me out to monaco ⤷ yourusername pull up

♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, formula2, wseriesracing and 598,837 others

tagged: yourusername, lewishamilton

f1 The paddock fashion game is back in business! #BahrainGP

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user19 y/n's so beautiful i actually cannot

user20 why do they give me kim and kanye vibes tho ⤷ user21 wait- ⤷ user22 because he probably also dresses her lmao

yourbestfriend purr

[eepwriting]

thigh anon here, absolutely loved what you wrote so I'm back again!! might be too much idk but

could we please get another ivy fic, where the reader has feelings for him and there is some playful flirting between them and ivy, but they don't know if he's being serious so they break down and confess and turns out ivy also has feelings for them but was in the same boat of being unsure

ending with lots of reassurance and comfort (and maybe a passionate sex scene if it's not too much to ask 👀)

This Whole Time ✶ IV x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, intercourse, masturbation, slight angst

Omg hiii thigh anon!! I made sure to not delete your entire ask this time ha. Thank you as always 🤍

!! mdni !!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

You couldn’t deny the way your heart ached slightly every time you saw him.

He was always so kind, considerate of your thoughts and feelings. He was funny, charismatic, and handsome. The two of you had became friends almost 2 years ago, this little crush growing everyday. Sure, you could confess how you felt, but you knew you’d never recover if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe the two of you could remain friends if that was the case, but the reminder of absent attraction would always be at the back of your mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of your everyday life without him in it.

So, you remained just friends with him. You play along with his naturally flirty nature and pretend to not be affected by it, not letting him see how much you wished it was real. “Jokingly” flirting back. Just two friends joking around.

So when your phone buzzes with a text from him, inviting you over for “shit food and trash tv” you push your feelings down and think on the positive side: You get to hang out with your good friend!

Your heart hammers in your chest as you climb the stairs to his apartment later that night. It always seemed to do that before you saw him, only slowing down after sitting with him a while. You knock on his door before letting yourself in, kicking off your shoes at the door. IVs standing in the kitchen, leaned over, looking into his fridge. He hears your entrance and stands straight, closing the fridge door.

A smile reaches his eyes as he walks over, reaching out to pull you into a hug. He squeezes you tight, his fingertips lightly scratching up and down your back. “Hey, you.” His voice is quiet in your ear.

“Hi, how’ve you been?” Your hand squeezes his shoulder. He pulls away from you but keeps his hands on your hips. “Good, you?”

You nod, “Good. Hungry.”

“Well lucky you, I ordered your favorite.” He gently pushes you towards the living room, hands on your shoulders. Your eyes land on the coffee table, on it a small spread of food from your favorite take out place, plus your favorite drinks.

“Oh wowww, you’re really spoiling me, huh?” You laugh as you take a seat on the couch.

“I gotta give my best to my favorite person, don’t I?” He sheepishly shrugs before sitting down next to you. He grabs the remote, switching on the tv.

You hope he doesn’t notice the blush that rises to your cheeks. You watch the side of his face for a moment before reaching forward to open the food boxes in front of you.

You hear the theme song of a show you hate and glare over at iv. “Oh no, no.” You reach over him to pick the remote up, hitting the back button.

“What? I like that show.” He turns to you, his arm flying up to point at the tv.

You shake your head and snicker, “That show sucks, ivy. C’mon.”

“Oh that’s real rich coming from you. At least it has substance! Unlike what you watch.” He jokingly shakes his head in shame.

Your mouth opens in fake hurt, a hand reaching up to your neck as you gasp. “Wow. That’s quite rude, you know?” He just lets out a loud laugh as he pulls his mask up over his mouth to take a sip of his drink.

You settle on an early 2010s sitcom before grabbing a container of food and sitting further back on the couch.

Before you know it, the two of you are 4 episodes deep, food long gone. You sat with your back against the armrest, your legs lay over iv’s lap, who’s sat further down the couch. His hands rest on your calves, absentmindedly rubbing, occasionally squeezing whenever he laughs at something.

You watch as the two main characters share a loving moment towards the end of the episode. They vow to not let the small things break them apart, even the silly little conflict the episode had revolved around. You can’t help but to look over at iv as the people on screen share a kiss, wishing you could have a moment like that with him. You blatantly stare at him, too lost in the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” You feel a squeeze on your knee.

You blink, your head shaking slightly as he looks at you with a look of concern. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” You shake your head again, looking back to the tv.

“No. It’s not nothing. You seem upset.” He pauses the tv and pulls you towards him by your legs. You couldn’t see your own face, but you felt that familiar ache in your chest, only assuming the look on your face matched what you were feeling.

“I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff.” You pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, crossing your arms over yourself.

“What stuff? Sad stuff?” His brows furrow. Even under the mask you can see the pure concern.

You can’t believe you’re about to open up about this. You’re terrified but you don’t know how much longer you can keep up this act. Keep pretending that your entire mind, body and soul doesn’t yearn for the man next to you. You clear your throat, “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“What are you talking about? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that right?” His hand rubs comforting circles over the side of your thigh.

You take a deep breath, your eyes close in a long blink before you speak. “Ivy. I like you. I really like you. More than a friend should ever like a friend.” You pause, your words getting caught in your throat. IV’s hand stops moving on your leg but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I owe it to myself to let you know. I love spending time with you but I can’t just act like I don’t have strong feelings for you, not anymore.”

You look at him, frozen in his seat. You’re screaming at him in your head. To say anything to you. To give you any sign that he really heard what you just said.

It feels like forever before he speaks. “How long? Have you felt this way?” His voice is quiet.

You shake your head, not expecting that answer. “Since I met you.”

He lets out a breath he seemed to be holding, his head falling forward. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” He pulls you to sit fully across his lap and you let him, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” You blink at him.

“I mean, I really like you. I’ve never said anything because I was so sure you weren’t interested.” He reaches up hold the side of your face. “I flirt with you and try my damn best make you feel special, hoping maybe one day, I’d have the confidence to finally say something. Even if it meant the end of our friendship. I’ve always wanted to tell you.”

You want to pinch yourself, convinced you’re dreaming.

“So… this whole time we’ve both just been torturing ourselves?”

He laughs softly, his thumb swiping back and forth over your cheek. “I guess so.” His eyes repeatedly flick down to your mouth. “Funny how that works, huh?”

Your mind races with thoughts of surprise, confusion and pure happiness as you try to make sense of his words.

You notice the way his breath quickens as his hand slowly reaches up to pull his mask up over his mouth. You meet him halfway as he leans into you, your mouths meeting in a hesitant kiss. It starts slow, occasionally interrupted by shy smiles from both of you. He tilts his head when he feels you grip the back of his neck, letting his tongue swipe over your bottom lip. A quiet and low groan leaves him when his tongue finds yours. His hands run up and down your back, squeezing your sides occasionally.

He gently guides you to lay on the couch, his mouth never leaving yours. He half straddles your hips and lets you pull him down so his chest is against yours. His mouth moves to kiss your cheek, across your jaw and down the side of your neck. A breathy whine leaving your mouth when you feel his tongue press to your skin.

Your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to yours. You’re rewarded with a deep groan, his hips bucking into yours.

He pulls away from your neck breathlessly. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

You smile up at him and bring your hands up to cup his face. “I’m more than okay with this. Trust me. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

He nods his head and turns to press a kiss to your palm. “Me too.” His voice soft and sweet. His hand caressing your cheek and jaw before he pushes himself off you to stand, impatient hands working over the button and zipper on his jeans.

You take the opportunity to push your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, the two of you unabashedly watching each other undress.

He’s on you again before you know it, his mouth attaching to yours again. Your hands wander under his shirt to roam his back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. His hand cups your jaw as he kisses you as if you’re his life source. He presses his hips to yours firmly and you can’t stop the moan you let out into his mouth. The feel of his bare skin on yours making you impatient.

“Hold on, love.” He mumbles on your lips before pulling away from you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his chest. “I feel like my hearts gonna beat out of my chest.” He lets out a breathy laugh.

You feel his heart racing under your palm, yours not feeling much different. “It’s okay. Mine too.” You give him a small nod and smile. “I’ll help, okay?” You reach a hand between the two of you, your hand nudging his cock before you wrap your fingers around him. He lets out a deep breath at the contact.

Your hand slowly slides down his shaft and back up again, your thumb catching a bead of his arousal before swirling it around on his tip. He whines a needy mewl above you, his eyes closing. The sound only makes the ache between your thighs ten times worse. You want to watch him like this forever, but let’s be honest, you’d waited 2 years for this already and you were done being patient.

Your fingers continue working him as you bring your other hand to your mouth, gathering some spit in your palm. Your wet palm soon replaces your fingers, pumping him smoothly. He bucks into your hand, another whimper leaving his mouth. You spread your legs open further and angle your hips up.

He gets the hint, angling his hips down slightly, his hand guiding his cock to press against you. He locks eyes with you again before slowly pushing himself in halfway. He leans down to you, mouths connecting in a hot, open mouth kiss. He draws his hips back before he’s even fully buried, and snaps them back in with a quick thrust. It catches you off guard, fingers digging into his side, a moan muffled by iv’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve just waited too long for this.” A groan punctuates his sentence. His cock slips in and out of you with ease as he picks up his pace. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him back down to you again. His quiet grunts sounding ever so nice in your ear. “I wanna look at you.” He says as he pushes himself up, hands gripping your sides as he looks down at you.

You can’t help but look down to where the two of you are connected, your teeth biting over your bottom lip as you whimper at the sight. Your hand slowly makes its way down to play with yourself, your eyes snapping up to look at iv.

He breathes out a huff and quickly nods his head. His attention fully on the way your hand moves over yourself, as well at how his cock glides in and out of you.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar feeling in your lower half to blossom. You could tell iv was on the edge as well, his movements loosing the fluidity they once had. He bends down to pepper small kisses on your cheek. “You gonna cum with me?” He hums as you quickly nod, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your climax crashing over you. Your hips buck up to him as you grip his bicep, a long string of moans leaving you.

IV’s release is right behind yours. His brows furrowed, mouth hung open slightly, eyes squeezed shut. He lets himself collapse over you, but still careful to not use his full weight. His head is in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and shallow. You feel his hips spasm against yours, the movement sending a weak shock through you.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up. You both let out a soft groan as he pulls out of you. He looks down at you with a relaxed smile, his hand reaching out to smooth over the top of your head. “You’re telling me, we could’ve been doing that this whole time?” He chuckles.

You laugh, lightly nudging him with your knee. “I guess so.”

He helps you sit up before walking you to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth with warm water before he gently cleans you up. He helps you get dressed before running to the kitchen to get you some water.

He joins you back on the couch, his arm falling around your shoulders as you cuddle up to him. The two of you knowing you’d not regret the decision to open up about how you felt this whole time.

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This is looong sorry, I got a little carried away.

Absolutely loved this idea! Hope you enjoyed anon! 🤍

K. Bye bye.