#and I SPILLED MY BEADS ALL OVER THE FLOOR :[

[iwakuraz]

one of the most painful experiences a guy can go through is dropping a bunch of beads on the floor and having to spend ages picking them up again

[eggie-o]

i may be surviving. thriving tho… idk about that one

[peachpitfics]

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about – it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you. 

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

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Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[mommynott]

White Christmas

12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: A cozy December evening staying in with your boyfriend leads to loads of fun together, this year will in fact be a white Christmas.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern AU, bf!theo, dom!theo, PIV, breeding kink, rough sex, creampie(s), degrading, slight spitting, spanking, dirty talk, breeding, praising, multiple orgasms, Theodore Nott filling you up but this time he’s your dominant boyfriend

“Agh— Fuck- I’m gonna fill up that pretty little pussy-“

Through his panting, Theodore was pounding into you like a madman. One of his strong hands squeezed both of your cheeks together, forcing your eyes to his. The other gripping onto his headboard for support.

“P-please— creampie me!” Moaning as you felt the pleasure soaring within you, Theo seemed to go even faster. His bicep muscles tensing up with each thrust, and his veins nearly popping out from under his skin from the intense pump.

Suddenly, his body jolted, letting out a deep guttural growl. His hot sticky cum spilled deep inside of you, the tip of his cock rubbing right against the crevice of your cervix. You could feel the way his dick twitched between your tightened walls.

“Fuuuuck— I love it when you cum inside of me…” Both of your breathing haggard now, your gaze flickered between one another. Theo slowly sat up but kept his throbbing cock shoved inside of you. His glistening seed spilling out of the sides of your pussy.

The most satisfied yet smug smirk danced across Theodore’s face. “I know you do…You little slut— My little cum slut…” Speaking through his heaves, a sea of giggles escaped your reddened lips.

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, he began to slowly pump in and out of you again. Looking down at the sight of your swollen cunt and his oozing cum. “I’m not stopping— F-fuck- Your pussy feels too good, amore” Your eyes sparkled with desire, nodding your head.

“Don’t— Keep fucking me, baby…Breed me…I’m begging-“

Breathing out your words, they dripped from your lips ever so seductively. Causing excitement to course throughout Theo. “Is that what you want, huh? Want me to fuckin’ breed you? Get you pregnant?”

He taunted you. Teased you. Just as he got a firm grip on your thighs, slightly lifting your hips. “—Mhmmm- Keep cummin’ in me…” As soon as you gave him the go-ahead, Theo’s eyes darkened with desire. Slamming his soaked cock forcefully once again

The bed frame was squeaking, hearing the way the legs of the bed seemed to scratch along the floor from how hard he was fucking you. The aggression was skyrocketing by the second. Fuck were you loving this.

“All night— All fuckin’ night I’m giving you all of my cum, amore…You’re taking every last drop-“

Sweat beaded down Theo’s forehead, causing his unruly messy locks to cling to his skin, his chest glistening through each plow. Your wailing moans bounced off of the walls. “Y-yes! Give me that cum— Fuck! I’m so close!”

Constantly shifting your head from side to side, whining through the bliss that grew with each thrust. Theo’s ocean gaze burned down at your leaky little slit. “Let’s get ya’ even wetter, amore-“ With that, he spat down on your pussy.

Taking one of his hands, his fingers swirled his spit and previous cum together over your clit. “I-I— Theo! Fuck-“ Letting go, your body quivered with a relishable orgasm. Clawing down Theo’s biceps, leaving your scratch marks as you did.

“Feels good, doesn’t it— Fuck- You look so sexy cummin’ on my cock, Cara Mia- Fuck— Fuck!” Theo started to frantically drive into you, so much so that he took his silver chain that dangled around his neck, placing it between his teeth.

“Imma breed that perfect little pussy— Fuck I’m gonna cum-“

Mumbling through the metal chain, his cock jerked between your clenched walls. His load spurting deep inside of you, both of you hitting climax nearly at the same exact time. Your glossed-over gaze fluttering up to Theodore’s.

Yet again, He slowly rolled his cock into your used cunt. Dropping the silver from between his teeth, His body was still slightly shaky from the sensitivity.

“I’m not fuckin’ done— Cazzo- You feel so good..” He groaned, wrapping his arms around you, swiftly plopping down to his back and having you straddle him.

Now on top of your boyfriend, you waved your Lucious locks down your back. Starting to slowly bounce yourself up his massive length. “You feel even better, baby— I love your cum…” With a whimper, your nails dug into Theo’s pecks, propping yourself up.

—Smack! Swatting down a heavy palm to your ass before firmly grasping it with both hands, Theodore helped guide you. “Dio Mio…You’re a goddess— Keep fuckin’ me like that, amore-“ Growling his vulgar yet sweet words you moved yourself even faster.

“Cazzo— I love breeding this cunt- Filling you up like a dirty little slut- my personal cum toy…”

Biting your bottom lip, your wetness gripped tightly around Theo’s length with each stroke. Your tits bouncing with you had Theo’s eyes burning into them. “Gods— Baby…”

The babbling mess of you could hardly even make out audible words let alone form sentences. Purely focused on the pleasure between the two of you. “That’s it, Cara…Ride the cum out of me-“

Theo popped into you even more, helping you with each thrust. You swore you could feel him in your damn stomach at this point. Your cervix surely taking a beating. His two previous loads swishing within your pussy.

The sensation of it all was only turning you on more so, feeling your eyes start to roll into the back of your head. “How good does it feel, amore?- hm? How good does it feel with all my loads inside of you? Tell me…Use your words”

Those raunchy aspect of it made you shudder, your skin erupting with goosebumps. “S-so good—No- Amazing…So amazing-“ Theo’s hard hand came down on your ass a few more times. Feeling the stinging redness bloom across your cheeks.

“You want my cum inside of you?— Beg for it- Beg for my nut. C‘mon now..”

His domineering tone had you weak in the knees, knowing you were close to another euphoric climax as well. Just the thought he’d cum inside of you a third time had you feeling hot.

Cursing under your breath, you furrowed your brows to spit out what he wanted. “Please— God! Please fill me up..Please breed me! P-please…I’m beggin’- Please!” Driveling from your lips, Theo found the mess of you all too amusing. All too sexy

“My girl wants to be bred again hm? Such a greedy little cum slut— Don’t worry…I got plenty for you-“

Igniting something deep inside of you, Theo bounced you even harder, taking control and thrusting himself into your juicy slit. “I- Please- Fuck!” Moans now turning into screams of pleasure, you were on the brink of yet another orgasm.

“Cum with me, Cara Mia- Cum as I breed you-“ He panted, drilling in your aching pussy even harder before you both spilled over the edge. Theo’s third load shot out between your own climax, your cries heard around the entire bedroom.

Collapsing down on your boyfriend, he gently stroked his knuckles down your spine. Both of you left reeling and catching your breaths together. “sei tutto per me, amore-“ Theo heaved before slapping loving kisses along the side of your neck.

A lazy and tired smile tugged on your lips, his drained cock still snuggly sitting inside of you. Theo continued rubbing down your back ever so softly.

The dim Christmas string lights hanging in your bedroom now creating a cozy feel. Before you knew it, the both of you drifted off into a deep sleep, still plastered together from the intense sex.

On the third day of Christmas…We’re getting a few yummy and delicious pies hehe🥧🎁

Definitely go check out @nottsangel, @nottswitch, and @slytherinslut0 for more smutty Xmas content❄️

Dividers linked in my masterlist🌙

I love you all bunches 💋

[thesassypadawan]

In The Backseat (James x FemReader)

Summary: All summer long you’ve practically been glued to his side. Long, nighttime drives…no destination in mind with you pressed against him in the front seat. All so innocent, all so pure until you decided to take the next step in your ‘relationship’.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut. Age gap (20 years difference, reader is of age), mission, making it fit, fun in the backseat, and… James’ big, thick dick.

Notes: Inspired by Addison Rae's song Diet Pepsi.

- In the backseat of his car, windows rolled, fogged up. Air thick, heavy with the smell of cheap cologne…grease…sweat.

- “Are…are you sure it’s g-going to fit?” Fat tears of embarrassment roll down your reddened cheeks as you lay there. Ripped blue jeans bunched under your head…legs spread wide open.

- “Course, cause I’m gonna make it, babydoll,” he smirks. Blue eyes focused on that wet spot soaking your pink panties, stroking himself. Beads of pre dribbling down his thick shaft, his fist. “Now why don’t ya take those frilly things off…lemme see that cute, little pussy.”

- “O-okay, Jamie…” Sniffling, nodding; not wanting to upset or disappoint. You obediently do so; slipping out, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. Whimpering when the cool breeze of the ac kisses your warm core. “…whatever you want.”

- Groaning, he leans over. Palm pressing against the glass, caging you in. Larger body pinning you to the seat. “Whatever, huh?” Fat tip teasing up and down your slit. Covering himself in your slick, smearing his all over your folds. “Ain’t ya the sweetest.”

- Calloused hand trails down your side, your hip. “Know exactly what I like to hear. Long wit…” Squeezes, smacks your ass hard enough to make it ripple; elicits a high-pitched squeal. “…that.”

- Inked fingers wind around, grip your thigh. “Now, why don't ya be a good girl for me.” Pillowy flesh spilling through the gaps when he tightens his hold, hikes it up onto his waist. “Just lay there…” Head pushes, prods at your entrance. “…take everything I give ya.”

- Surging forward, he buries his cock to the hilt. Your lips parting, falling open in a silent cry. Vision filling, blurring with more tears…from the stretch sending sparks of searing pain up your spine.

- “Sssh, it's okay, darlin…don’t need to cry,” he coos. Rubbing ‘soothing’ circles on your skin, voice laced with mock sympathy. As he slowly shifts his hips back, the drag making your gummy walls involuntarily flutter and burn. Until only a few girthy inches remain stuffed inside. “Gonna take good care of ya, make ya feel real good.”

- Shoving, forcing your knee towards your chest; he slams into you once more. Rougher, stronger…deeper this time. Knocking the air out of your poor lungs, kissing your cervix. Making you squeal and squirm beneath him; heat starting to blossom in your stomach. “Big… B-big…”

- Thrusts are harsh, wild. Pounding, bullying your poor cunt. “Yeah, and you’ll learn to love it…” Smug look on his face, watching your tits bounce with each powerful drive. “Only one ya ever gonna need…”

- Pace picks up, grows brutal. Balls slap heavily against your pert bottom; sound of skin on skin seemingly so loud, almost deafening to your ears. Body beginning to tense, mind hazy and clouded. “Too… It’s too much… I…”

- Pushing your knee further, pressing down onto you harder. James' neck strains, adams apple bobs. “What? Gonna come…already?” Hot breath fans across your face, neck. Lips brush across his gold cross, cherry red streaks staining the reflective surface. “Fuck…all right. Come for me then…drench my dick all prettily.”

- So drunk on pleasure, on pain. That's all it takes to send you spiraling, crashing. Pussy clamping, clenching around him. Waves of ecstasy washing over, overwhelming you to the point where all you manage is to babble, mewl. Whine desperately when…

- Abruptly, he pulls out; sets back on his knees. Eyes sweeping over, taking in your disheveled state…your mascara streaked, blotchy face. Smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Pumping himself steadily, tip aimed downwards.

- “Sorry, sweetheart,” he grunts. Twitching, first drops starting to leaks out. Gaze locked with yours. “Ain't ready to share ya with a brat yet.”

- Growling low, rope after rope of hot cum spew forth. Painting your stomach, pussy. A few stray drops landing on, staining your shirt…dribbling onto the seat.

- Still blissed out, body still humming in ecstasy. Faintly you’re aware of him muttering; cleaning you off with something soft, lacey… “Let’s go for a drive.” Redressing you in your jeans, your now soiled panties… “Get ya a diet pepsi for being such a good girl. Let ya sit in my lap the whole time.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @avescorner-blog, @t03soup, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @princessswifie, @jediavengers, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @loverforoldermen

[loaksky]

— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔

mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k

you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!

tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)

an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.

neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.

ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.

neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.

neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.

yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.

eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.

“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.

“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”

neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.

“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.

your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.

“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i���”

“i’ll pass.”

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.

“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”

“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”

and the door is shutting in your face.

neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.

has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).

“morning,” you smile.

you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).

“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”

“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”

“…i’m not.”

you beam.

“great!”

you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.

neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.

“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.

“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.

“who��s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.

“girl in 5a.”

first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.

jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”

neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.

she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.

neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.

little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.

neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.

neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.

neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.

“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.

neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.

“morning, 5a.”

neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.

you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.

you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.

“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.

“hey,” you sigh.

“long day?” she humors you.

the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.

and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.

(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).

so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.

ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.

“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”

that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.

“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”

“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”

ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.

“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”

you’re grinning.

“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”

ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.

“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”

neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.

the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.

you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.

you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.

little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.

meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.

everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).

neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).

neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.

neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.

you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.

neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.

neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.

neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.

you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.

you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.

you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.

it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.

it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.

probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.

you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.

you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!

it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.

you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.

you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.

you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.

you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.

your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.

regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.

your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.

it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.

you end up sleeping in the living room that night.

neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.

neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.

“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.

“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”

neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.

(yeah, that’s totally it).

“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.

she huffs a breath, defensive.

“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”

oh—

you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.

you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.

in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.

“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”

“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”

“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”

neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.

it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.

you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.

neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.

they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.

she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(

realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.

neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.

hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.

neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.

but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.

“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.

“yeah,” you hum.

“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.

“thanks.”

neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.

“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”

“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”

a blanket of silence.

“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”

the elevator dings and the doors part.

“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.

neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.

neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?

neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.

neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.

neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.

“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.

“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”

“you miss her,” he fills in.

ellie turns red.

“fuck you, i don’t—”

“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”

ellie swallows, lips pursing.

“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”

“fuck you—”

“for someone who likes bitches you—”

ellie groans.

neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.

and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.

you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.

she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.

“been doing alright?” she asks finally.

you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.

you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.

“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”

ellie hums.

“how’s work?”

“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.

neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.

neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.

“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”

your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.

“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.

it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.

“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”

“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”

and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—

“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”

your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.

“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.

ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.

“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.

neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.

neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.

neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.

you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.

neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.

“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.

“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.

“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”

“i do not love her,” ellie barks.

jesse smirks.

“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.

“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”

“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”

“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.

“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”

neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.

who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.

neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.

neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.

neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.

she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.

you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—

“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.

“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.

you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.

she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.

“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“i was, er, in the area?”

one of your eyebrows raise.

“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.

it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.

“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”

the words after are a silent insinuation.

god knows i did.

you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.

“i like you.” she says suddenly.

you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.

“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”

neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.

she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.

“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.

her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.

“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”

“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”

ellie shakes her head vehemently.

“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”

“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”

ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.

“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”

she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.

“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”

your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.

“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”

you breathe out an involuntary laugh.

“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”

you flinch.

“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”

you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.

18+ BONUS

neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.

she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.

needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.

didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.

neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.

“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”

the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.

one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.

“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.

that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.

especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.

neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.

you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.

“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.

“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.

“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”

all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.

“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.

your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.

you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.

“surprise,” she whispers.

neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.

neng © 2023

[jintaka-hane]

Sit Down

Masterlist

Summary: Ben Beckman carries too much on his shoulders. The situation on board is a mess, and the weight of the stress is making it harder for him to sleep at night. As your first mate and friend, it pains you to see him so exhausted. So, when things become unbearable, you offer a drastic solution—something he’ll hesitantly end up accepting. Word count: 4900 Notes: MDNI, + 18, NSFW, xf!reader, smut, oral (Beck receiving), fingering (f!reader receiving), friends to lovers, let me take care of you thing, fluffy end, needy Beck, a lot of pet names used (darlin', doll, princess, pretty) Self indulgent? This? Nah Warning: All my stories are written entirely in Spanish and then translated into English, so I apologize for any mistakes I might make.

Clink-Crassssh!! 

The coffee pot shattered against the wooden floor, sending shards of glass and splashes of coffee flying across the mess hall.

You jolted at the noise, nearly losing your balance on the stool, and after exchanging puzzled glances with Roux and Hongo, you turned your heads to find the source of the crash.

Before you stood the sad figure of Benn Beckman crouched on the floor, muttering curses as his trembling hands hurried to clean up the mess. His hair was more disheveled than usual, his lips pressed into a tight line beneath an untrimmed beard, and his usually bright eyes seemed dull, framed by deep, dark shadows.

He looked so exhausted, it was painful to see.

"Becks?" You immediately set your drink down and stood up from your seat, rushing to help him.

“Ain’t gotta, darlin'...” he said in a rough, worn-out voice. "I got this."

With a frown, you ignored what he said and grabbed a clean rag, kneeling beside him and soaking it in the spilled coffee. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched his fingers clumsily gather pieces of the shattered pot, his movements so slow and unsteady that you worried he might hurt himself. You tried to push the glass shards away from his hands, but when he stubbornly kept picking them up, you placed your hand over his.

"Becks, Stop. I’ll handle it..." 

"No," the bulky man muttered, giving a small tug to free his hand in such a rushed and clumsy way that it struck the edge of a sharp shard, causing him to wince as his skin split open with a jagged cut.

"Becks!" You grabbed his wrist firmly. "Would you just stop?!"

Beckman sighed heavily and, for once, complied. As blood began to bead along the cut, Hongo rushed to assist him, crouching down to help you lift him to his feet.

“It’s not bad,” the doctor said, focusing on the wound and pressing gently around the edges to ensure no glass remained. “Just needs cleaning and a bandage.”

"I got it," you said immediately.

Hongo raised an eyebrow at your quick response and ran a hand over his shaved neck to asses the situation.

For once, someone from the crew was offering to help, and he wouldn’t be the one to refuse. He gave you a short nod, and that gesture was all you needed to grab the big, wall-of-a-man first mate by the arm, and practically drag him out of the mess hall, marching down the corridor as he grumbled the whole way.

“Darlin’, I’ve got plenty of things to do…”

You grunted. Of course he had things to do. He always had things to do. And that was exactly the problem.

"... and if you're taking me to bed," he continued stubbornly, "it's not gonna work..."

You huffed and without replying, kept striding down the corridor, your fingers digging into his forearm like claws.

We'll see about that …

**********

You weren't exactly having the best time on the Red Force.

The captain was confined to his cabin, bedridden and unable to make decisions. He had caught something nasty on the last island and was under strict orders to rest, spending his days grumbling and complaining like the terrible patient he was.

Roux and Hongo weren’t faring much better. With food and medical supplies running dangerously low, the cook was growing increasingly dramatic, threatening to serve boiled underwear soup, while the doctor prowled the ship’s corners, muttering to everyone that he’d soon be operating without anesthesia.

The ship herself was in no condition to help. The sails were in desperate need of patching, the masts needed reinforcement, and the cannons kept jamming at the worst moments. And to make matters worse, you were trapped in a dead calm. With the ship completely immobilized in the open sea, resupplying or seeking help was impossible, and the weather forecast offered no hope of change anytime soon.

Everything was a mess and completely out of control. And naturally, all the responsibility, worry, and pressure landed squarely on the shoulders of the ever-capable and vigilant co-captain. But the weight of it all was beginning to take its toll.

His body rebelled, depriving him of the restorative sleep he so desperately needed. And with each passing night, the insomnia only worsened, making the once steadfast first mate slowly turn into a tired, miserable shadow of his former self.

**********

"Go in," you said, opening the door to Beckman’s cabin and giving the sturdy man a gentle nudge on his back.

The moment you stepped inside, a sharp smell of tobacco assaulted your nose, and your eyes darted around the room, quickly taking in its disheveled, sorry state.

The bed was unmade, with rumpled sheets and clothes scattered across the mattress. In front of a worn, cushioned armchair, his desk looked disheveled, cluttered with a mountain of papers, maps and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. On the nightstand, a half-empty glass of whiskey sat next to a small box of sleeping pills.

A sigh slipped from your lips. You’d always heard that a person’s cabin was a window into their mind, and the sight before you was more revealing than any words could be.

Your attention shifted back to Beckman, who stood frozen in the center of the room, his injured hand raised and curled into a fist.

"Sit down," you commanded, stepping closer and looking up at him, your voice steady as you motioned toward the armchair. 

Beckman opened his mouth to protest, but before he could articulate a word you placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back and guiding him toward the chair.

"Sit down," you repeated in the most authoritative tone you could muster. 

Becks chuckled but complied, sinking into the cushioned armchair with his full weight. 

“Bandages and antiseptic?” You crouched down to meet his eye level, a finger raised in a questioning gesture.

“Top drawer,” he grumbled.

Without another word, you turned to the nightstand and rummaged through the drawer. Your fingers brushed past rolling papers, lighters, and razor blades before finally finding alcohol and some bandages. Supplies in hand, you perched sideways on the armrest of his chair, extending your hand to take his.

The bulky man allowed you to tend to his wound, remaining silent as you carefully cleaned the bleeding cut, his drowsy eyes following every move of your delicate fingers. He couldn’t help but notice how small and soft your hands looked against the roughness of his calloused skin.

"Becks..." your voice came out like a sigh. "You can't keep going like this. You need to sleep." 

His fingers didn’t flinch as you applied the alcohol to disinfect the wound. 

"I know, darlin’," he said quietly, his gaze now fixed on your face as your brows furrowed in concentration while you cut the bandage. "And I’m tryin’, but—"

"It’s too much stress and weight on your shoulders, I know..." You carefully wrapped the bandage around his hand, tracing small circles in the air.

You liked that grumpy, big-hearted first mate more than you were willing to admit. He was your friend, your confidant, your favorite person on the crew. You wanted to help him. And after all the traditional remedies your crewmates had tried had failed miserably, your mind had begun drifting toward more... drastic options.

Benn Beckman was a reserved man. But despite his discretion, you knew he had his needs. Whenever you reached port, you knew he sought comfort in the arms of willing, affectionate women, eager to spend a few hours in his company. You’d seen him share drinks with them, whispering who-knows-what in their ears while they sat on his lap, hands sensually tracing the lines of his chest in some secluded corner of the tavern. 

And every time you saw him the next morning, a cigarette between his lips, that casual smile of his, and a trail of bruises on his neck disappearing into his shirt, something twisted in your gut.

Something you couldn’t quite define.

Maybe it was curiosity… curiosity about what he did with them all night, tangled in the sheets of an inn bed.

But it had been weeks since you’d seen the first mate blow off any steam. With no wind to fill the sails, the ship had no chance of docking at any nearby port, leaving everyone deprived of the opportunity to unwind and relax with some good company on the shore.

So one idea had started to form in your mind.

At first, you had dismissed it, thinking it was crazy and inappropriate. But as you watched Beckman worsen day by day, you reconsidered, concluding that it might be exactly what he needed to forget for a moment the weight of his responsibilities and, hopefully, get the rest he so desperately needed.

The only problem? Suggesting the idea felt harder than carrying out the remedy itself.

“You’re lost in thought…” His rough voice pulled you back, his hand gently holding yours after you finished tying off the bandage. His thumb moved in slow circles over your wrist as he looked at you with gratitude.

You cleared your throat and stood up, pulling your hand away from his to return the first-aid kit to the nightstand drawer. His gaze weighed on your back, and just before closing the drawer, you clenched your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before deciding to take the plunge.

“I think I can help you,” you said.

A low chuckle sounded behind you, laced with disbelief rather than malice.

"Darlin’," he said, rubbing his eyes, "Hongo's tried everything. He even gave me pills to—"

“I can give you something Hongo hasn’t,” you cut him off, your voice coming out more confident than you’d imagined it would when you’d rehearsed the words in your head. When you turned to face him, though, you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

“And what’s that?” He stopped massaging his eyes, revealing his tired gaze again as he looked at you.

“My mouth.” 

The two words hung in the air, finally freed after days of being locked in your mind.

Beckman stayed silent, his gray eyes locked with yours. With your heart in your throat, you approached the armchair and placed a hand on each armrest, leaning your torso toward the wordless man. He lifted his chin to look at you, and you tried to remain stoic and unwavering, holding his gaze as his eyes flickered between yours, studying your features as if he were trying to see beyond your skin.

"Doll," he finally said, his voice deep and soft. "If you're implying what I think..."

"I am." 

His lips twitched into a wry grin.

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not." Your fingers unconsciously dug into the fabric of the armrest.

His smile faded, and this time, his gaze held an animal-like intensity. Frowning, and with his lips pressed tightly together, he seemed to be trying to control an internal battle raging inside him.

"No," he finally said, his chin still lifted so he could look you straight in the eye.

His refusal struck you like a bucket of cold water, though, in some way, you knew that’s exactly what he would say. He always treated you with a respect and care befitting a goddess, and making you lower yourself to the dirt in such a worldly way would probably be unthinkable for him.

“Becks,” you sighed softly, removing one of your hands from the armrest to trail it up to his stubbled chin. “You’re barely on your feet. We’re all worried about you…”

Beckman closed his eyes at the feel of your touch, his chin leaning into your hand as he allowed himself a moment of rest.

“I can help you if you let me…” you continued, “We’re adults, it’d be an agreement between the two of us… an agreement between… friends.”

His jaw tensed in your hand.

“As flattered as I am that someone like you would be offerin’ somethin’ like that to a guy like me," he said, "my answer’s still no."

This time his refusal genuinely hurted you. You pulled your hand away, and his tired eyes opened again, disoriented without your touch.

"Your stubbornness is reckless," you tried to sound composed, but the pain in your voice betrayed you. "You can't work like this. A-a crew without a first mate at his best is a crew in danger. We all need you, Beck... I-I..." Your lips trembled nervously as you spoke, "I need you."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted was to add even more weight to the already burdened first mate, and that was exactly what you'd just done.

Embarrassed, you straightened up and began to turn away to leave, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist firmly and pulling you back toward him, spreading his legs to make space for your body to move closer to his.

"Girl," he said in a rough voice, locking his eyes with yours in a way that sent a spark flickering in the pit of your stomach. He frowned, and for a moment, you thought he was going to scold you. But his expression quickly softened. "You can back out anytime. Got it?"

You nodded, and before you realized it, his hands were around your waist, lifting your shirt and exposing the skin of your abdomen. He pressed his nose playfully against your navel, and his fingers traced the waistband of your pants.

“Becks,” you giggled as the ticklish sensation sent goosebumps racing across your body. “What are you doing?”

“I never let my partner pleasure me without takin’ care of her first,” he said, his voice muffled as he buried his face further into your belly.

Oh. 

Of course.

Benn Beckman, competent first mate and finest gentleman.

Smiling, you placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his gaze back to yours. As tempting as the situation was, you weren’t going to let him take this turn. You were here to help him, not the other way around.

"Becks, stop... you don’t have to. I’m not asking for anything in return, understand?"

He looked at you, his hands still resting on your waist. From the expression on his face, you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

"Besides," you added, trying to find something that would make him relent, "if that ever happens, I deserve it to be with all your strength. Not like the tired wreck you are right now."

A raspy laugh rumbled in his chest, and you smiled. How you loved that rough, husky laugh.

"Alright, Darlin’," he said, still chuckling.

Your smile lingered as you slowly lowered yourself to kneel between his legs, never breaking eye contact with him. Before your knees could touch the floor, he leaned over to the bed, snatching up his pillow and placing it on the floor beneath you.

"Here," he said, "don’t go hurtin’ those pretty knees of yours."

Why was he always like this? You thought as you made yourself comfortable on the pillow, placing your hands gently on his thighs for support. "Thank you".

Your eyes lingered on the prominent bulge at his crotch, and without thinking, you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Beckman’s jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a rare display of vulnerability for a man with his reputation.

“Hey, big guy,” you gave his thigh a comforting squeeze, "it’s just me. Relax, okay? Just let yourself go…”

The tent in his pants seemed to complain within its prison, and you didn’t want to make him wait any longer. Slidding your hands down his knees, you spread his legs just enough to create space for your head.

"Who’s undoing the belt?" you asked tilting your head and looking up at him from beneath your long doe-eyed lashes.  

"You." His tone struck you as the same one he used when handing out tasks on deck.

Your hands gripped the buckle of his belt and unfastened it, your fingers decisively pulling aside the layers of fabric that stood between you, lowering the waistband of his pants and finally freeing his painfully swollen cock.

Benn Beckman was a big man. And his dick matched him well. With a large, pinkish-red head and a prominent vein running up and down a thick shaft. Your mouth watered at the sight, lips parted as you took a moment to prepare yourself.

"Darlin’,” Beckman said, taking the moment of silence as doubt on your part, “you can back out if—Hah~" 

His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you captured his swollen, mushroomed knob between your eager lips.

His taste was salty and strong in your mouth.

You, on the other hand, felt incredibly sweet on his cock.

Opening your mouth as wide as your jaw would allow, you slowly took him in, giving yourself a moment to breathe and adjust to him. You swallowed gradually more of his cock, eyes closed in concentration, hands anchored on his base for support, until you managed about two-thirds of his length.

He held his breath above you. His abdomen tightened with restraint when you looked up at him, your tongue pressing against the pulsing vein on his shaft, feeling the wild rush of blood running through it. Then his hand cupped your cheek, his lips curling into a smile as he traced with his thumb his own bulge inside you.

With your cheeks flushed by that smile, you began applying more pressure with your lips, rising back up to his large head, giving it a quick lick before taking him all the way down again. 

"That's it... “ he sighed. 

His hand slid to the nape of your neck, his fingers brushing your hair aside with care before settling there. You continued bobbing your head against his cock, making him groan with your upward and downward movements, trying to take as much of him as you could.

“Yeah, nice and slow princess…, just like that," he whispered, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles against your skin.

Encouraged by his sweet gesture, you decided to use your hands as well. One moved carefully up and down his hard cock, while the other dared to venture deeper into his pants. His balls felt heavy and tight between your fingers. The balls of a man who hadn’t known a partner' s warmth in a long time.

"So, so good, princess," the bulky man praised breathlessly, his eyes full of devotion as he watched your head bob sweetly between his legs.

His length twitched inside your mouth and you tasted a salty drop of precum as you ran your tongue through his slit. You smiled proudly on his cock, continuing to suck and bob, feeling sparks ignite between your thighs as your own arousal began to smolder in your core.

“Look at you... hah… so perfect… and takin’ me so damn well,” he groaned, his voice a little deeper and raspier than usual. 

His sweet praises, coupled with the slow, sensual glide of his fingers along the nape of your neck, sent a sharp jolt of desire coursing through you. Your mouth continued working up and down his shaft, increasing the pressure and speed as you felt the weight of his darkened, dilated pupils staring at you.

“Princess, open your shirt for me," he uttered with an unsteady breath.

Arching your brow, you looked at him, holding his gaze with an alluring intensity as you slowly obeyed. Your fingers fumbled with your buttons as you undid them slowly, one by one. As soon as you finished, he tugged your shirt down, baring one of your shoulders.

“So goddamn beautiful…” he whispered, the back of his fingers grazing your soft, vulnerable skin, tracing an invisible line from your collarbone to the curve of your cleavage.

His touch sent a shiver racing down your spine, and you frowned, fighting to control the raw, insistent desire building between your thighs. You continued to sweetly embrace his cock with your swollen lips, sucking him hard up and down, focused on how with each movement, his breaths grew more and more uneven.

"Ah~”  he tilted his head back, his fingers pressing more tightly into the back of your neck, drawing your head closer to his crotch. "Let's go deeper, a'right, Doll? Show me what that pretty throat can do…"

You nodded obediently, exhaling through your nose as you took his cock further, slowly swallowing his entire length inch by inch. 

“That’s it, such a good girl…” He praised you as his hands gently grabbed your head to guide you deeper into him.

His sweet words pushed you to swallow more than your throat could handle, and when his blunt head hit the back of your mouth, you couldn’t stop yourself from choking. 

"Hey, n-no," He huskily chastised you, giving you a little tap on the nose. Though he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes and rolling them back. "No gagging, okay? Good girls don’t gag”.

You nodded again, knitting your brows together in concentration, and let him guide you to take the rest of his cock.

“That’s it… breathe and relax for me, okay?”

You had to squeeze your eyes shut as the large tip pressed against your uvula, but once you managed the last few inches, you smiled proudly on his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed at you, letting out a heavy sigh, unable to avoid twitching over your tongue. “I knew you could take all of me…”

You continued moving your head, up and down, then down and up, always watching his reactions and listening to his breath to match the right pace. His throbs inside you became more frequent and desperate, and you began to fantasize about how his massive cock would stretch you to your limit. 

The thought did little to ease the growing, unbearable thirst inside you. The damp fabric of your underwear clung uncomfortably to your swollen folds, and you pressed your thighs together, seeking any form of relief.

Burning with desire, you increased the pace. Obscene sucking sounds filled the air as you worked your way up to his thick tip, repeating the process over and over again, making him grunt and curse above you in his frantic fight not to cum.

“G-good j-…  -ahh such a pretty good girl…” he had to shut his eyes and scrunch his brow to handle all the pleasure flooding him. “I’m so close, princess... gonna keep bein’ a good girl for me and not let me make a mess on the floor?" 

You don’t remember giving him an answer, but you do remember how your swollen pussy throbbed between your legs at his question.

You desperately wanted to touch you.

You desperately wanted him to touch you. 

And your prayers were answered.

As you whimpered in frustration, you felt Beckman's large hand slip into your pants and slide under your underwear.

“Shh, I got you…,” he soothed in that deep voice of his, his expert fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling your perfect spot with astonishing ease. “Go on, princess.” 

Gripping his hand you grounded your pelvis against it, desperately begging him to keep on those sweet circles that were taking you so quickly to the edge. He indulged, and in less than 30 seconds, he had you whimpering and mewling against his cock, eyes rolling and toes curling as you shoved his thick fingers into your clenching pussy.

Your pace bobbing your head decreased during your high, but the force increased. You hollowed your cheeks, raking him down with your mouth with so much fervor, that you had not yet come down from the crest of your orgasm when you felt his hands roughly grab your hair in firm handfuls, his cock throbbing against your palate and filling the bottom of your throat with his thick, salty load. 

“Fuck, princess, sweetheart, -ngah!, you’re too good, too much -so goddamn perfect,” Beckman moaned out a stream of mindless praises while he shoved his cock deeper into your mouth, emptying himself so hard and so deep in your throat that you gagged on his knob again. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, but you continued bobbing your head against him, feeling his hand rest on your throat as if he wanted to feel your windpipe shift with each swallow of his overwhelming stream of cum.

Panting, and sweating, with your hair tousled and your cheeks flushed, you felt the last of his spend spill into your mouth. You pulled away from him, lifting your eyes and finding him as breathless and damp as you.

He smiled, and his hand ran through his hair in an attempt to regain his composure. But as he leaned toward you and his fingers grazed your cheek, his smile disappeared.

"Oh, Darlin’... No..." His voice cracked, his eyes following the tears as they slipped down your cheeks. “Forgive me... I’ve made you cry.”

His large hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly and settling you onto his lap.

“Damn, I’m such a fucking brute…” he said, drawing you close against his chest.

“It’s alright, Becks,” you whispered as you pulled your face away, but his hand drew you closer once more.

His lips brushed softly against your cheeks, catching each tear with tender, almost apologetic kisses. You let out a soft laugh, turning your head slowly to allow him more access, and in doing so, your noses brushed together. Your eyes fluttered shut, and in that brief, unspoken moment, his lips found yours.

The kiss was slow, softer than you’d ever expected from that grumbling, broad-shouldered first mate. He had the calm and patience of someone who had waited for this moment for a long time, savoring every second as if your lips were a long-lost treasure. Sighing into the kiss, you allowing yourself to be carried away by the sweet, unhurried motion of his chin.

When you pulled back, your fingers brushed lightly against his cheek before your gaze met his deep gray eyes once again. They held something intense, familiar yet impossible to name.

A look he reserved only for you.

A look that was now hungrier than ever, as if he were staring at something that had always belonged to him.

“And?” you asked, straightening your back and raising an eyebrow.

“And?” he mimicked you, a smile grazing his lips as he looked lovingly at you. “Darlin’, you were… you are gorgeous.”

“No,” you giggled, your cheeks flushing as you gave him a light, teasing tap on his chest. “I meant if you can sleep now.”

“Ah, right… okay,” he frowned and cleared his throat. “The truth is… yeah, I think I can sleep now.”

With a genuine smile, you nodded and gave him another light tap on his chest. As you moved to stand, his large hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you firmly back into his embrace.

“Stay with me…” he whispered, his forehead coming to rest softly against yours.

“I can’t, Becks. I’ve got work to do,” you lovingly brushed your fingers along his stubbled chin.

“No, you don’t…”

“Yes, I do,” you teased, crossing your arms playfuly over your chest. “And if I don’t, my first mate is gonna punish me.”

He lifted his forehead from yours.

"Oh, I see. That first mate of yours must be really mean."

“The meanest,” you leaned in, your voice low and almost conspiratorial.

He hummed in amusement.

“Is he?” 

"You have no idea."

Clearly enjoying having you so close again, he tilted his chin towards you, grinning as he caught the way your eyes darted to his lips. But when you leaned away out of his reach once more, his smile faded.

"Maybe he's just a man," he said, his voice rough and barely a whisper, "who believes he doesn't deserve what he truly wants."

Your eyes darted between his. “And what is that?”

He cupped your cheek and his thumb traced slowly the line of your jaw.

"Stay with me, and I’ll tell you in the morning."

A smile played at the corner of your mouth as you closed your eyes, sighing before slowly nodding to him.

Before you could even catch your breath, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the bed.

The clothes scattered across the mattress were brushed aside as he gently laid you down, quickly straightening the wrinkled sheets to make sure you were comfortable. Smiling, he tossed his shirt aside and lay down behind you, drawing a giggle from you when the weight of his body made you roll toward him. His bandaged hand came to rest on your thigh, while the other slid beneath your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer.

"Besides..." you heard him whisper, his nose nudging the curve of your neck, "I gotta show you what this tired wreck can do after a few hours of sleep..."

Those were the last words he spoke before letting out a long, deep sigh, his body relaxing behind you as his steady breathing signaled he had finally drifted off.

Beckman slept soundly that night, his heartbeat calm and his brow relaxed, at last enjoying his well-deserved, soothing rest. You, however, couldn’t manage a single blink and endured what felt like the longest night of your life.

.......................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

[yeonmuse]

One More Rep | Eric Sohn

PAIRING Gym Eric x Fem Trainer

WORD COUNT | 1.7k

GENRE SMUT WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ riding, bottom eric , top reader, teasing , tongue kissing , vaginal sex, vulgar language

SUMMARY In which Eric has trouble focusing during his workout, it seems he’s got a thing for his trainer.

MORE | a req for my beloved

“Come on i'm sure you can do better than that Youngjae.’’ There you go again calling him by his given name, something you had done time and time again when you realized he was slowing down or slacking. In all honesty not only did he find it hot how you never let up with him, but hearing his name spill from your lips was the sweetest sound that had ever fallen upon his ears. You had been Eric's trainer for a year now, though it didn't take that long for him to form some sort of attraction to you. It went without saying that he found you attractive, and as much as he wanted to abide by your rules and keep things professional he couldn’t help but imagine you riding him every single time the two of you got in the gym together.

“Are you even listening?”

“What?” Eric hadn't even realized but he had been doing it in that very moment, imagining it, his hands on your waist as he watched his entire cock disappear inside of you. How your moans would sound once he finally got inside.

“Where does your mind go when you space out like that? I swear you do this every session lately.” He watched as you shook your head and pushed yourself up off of the floor to go grab a water.

“Go ahead and take a five we’re doing one more rep since you chose to space out the entire first set.” He couldn't help but take in your frame as you brought the water bottle to your lips. The way your outfit hugged your curves, the way your lips pressed against your water bottle, he even liked the way sweat beaded on your neck from having worked out too hard with him. It caused a stir in him, the more he looked at you the harder he got and it would do nothing more than make this last rep agonizingly painful to him. His gaze trailed you as you put your water bottle down and made your way over to him and he was thrown into a panic, the last set of workouts you had him do were always sit ups, you wouldn’t notice right?

“Alright Sohn on the floor.” His head was spinning it that moment, there was an internal panic that you would notice and realize that he had been checking you and you wolf come to realize the reason he was so spaced out.

“Do I need to add another full set to our next session to make you get your ass up quicker?” Your words easily got him up from the bench and onto the floor.

“Oh so you do know how to listen.” You teased as you watched him finally get in position for his last rep.

“I can do more than just listen.” The words fell from his lips before he could even realize he said them. You raise your eyebrows at him and he immediately changes the subject.

“Let’s just start, how many this time? Ten? Twenty?” He rambled on and on before starting without a queue. You had been opening your mouth to speak in what he had said until your eyes landed on something that you found rather distracting. As if finally realizing you had not been counting, Eric stops his workout only for him to gaze at you and find that your attention has been completely elsewhere. His gaze followed yours until he realized where your gaze had been directed and he scrambled to get up from the floor.

“Uh can we finish up for the day? Maybe just add an extra full set to our next session.” He clears his throat and sheepishly scratches the ball off his neck as he turns to go grab his towel.

“Do I make you nervous, Youngjae?” He froze, he had been trying to get out as quickly as possible but heading your name spill from his lips immediately stopped him.

“What are you talking about?” He tries to diverge your attention away from what had just happened, deciding to play confused. For a moment you were silent until he heard shuffling and he felt your presence behind him. You were a little too close for comfort, so close that he could feel your breath tickle his neck and your chest press against his back.

“I said..do I make you nervous? Better yet, it looks like I make you a lot more than just nervous.”

“I can explain..”

“Explain what? That working out with me turns you on? That you get all hard simply from training with me?” He remained silent, he had nothing to say since you were entirely correct, was that pathetic of him? Getting hard from just glancing at you.

“Tell me then, for how many sessions have you had for me? How many sessions have you walked away covering up the fact that you get turned on just looking at me? Have you ever thought of me?” As your fingertips grazed his neck it sent a shiver up his spine, he had never been this quiet in his life.

“I bet every session when you hit the showers you imagined it, fucking me, being buried so deep in me that once you’re no longer inside you’lll feel the ghost of me.”

“I haven’t…I.”

“Tell me the truth, how many times…for how long maybe I’ll give you what you want if you ask me nicely..like a good boy.” Eric couldn’t even hide it, not only did you make him nervous but every word you spoke made him dizzy, you were intoxicating and it turned him on to the highest power.

“The last 7 months..”

“Oh? You poor thing you’ve been holding it in that long?” As you make your way around him and step in front of him his breath caught in his throat, there you were standing before him all pretty, eyes gazing directly into his as if you were ready to completely devour him.

“Since you can’t seem to do your workouts properly I guess I’ll have to help you until you learn. Sit.” Eric wasted no time taking a seat on the training bench, his pretty eyes glued to you.

“You usually listen well when you aren’t fantasizing about me, do I distract you that much? So much that you can’t focus? In that case I’ll ride you until every fantasy of yours disappears from your thoughts, let you feel the real thing so you’ll no longer be distracted during our sessions.” His gaze had been locked on you, his eyes glistening like a puppy waiting to receive a treat from its owner. His heart beating so hard in his chest as he watched you strip from the waist down before shoving down his sweats and boxers in one go.

“Already ready to go.”

As you placed your hand on his chest and forced him to lay back you could feel his heart thumping in his chest, you could tell that he was nervous, you liked that he was nervous. The way he devoted all his attention to you in that moment, his pretty puppylike eyes focused on you and only you, oh how you wanted to just devour them but for now this would do.

“Fuck.” His head fell back almost instantaneously as you swung your leg over him and straddled him before wrapping a hand around his cock. Of course your hand wasn’t enough to fully take it but it still felt good to him nonetheless, though it was nothing compared to the heavenly feeling of you guiding him directly into your cunt. The whine followed by a moan that spilled from his lips was enough to bring a smirk to your face, you had barely done anything and he was already a whiny mess.

“Hands here. And I want you to look at me, you want to feel me so desperately, look in the mirror and watch, watch the way you continuously push in and out of me.” You force him to turn his head and watch through the mirror as you sit up before forcing yourself back down onto him watching a loud moan, his hands meeting your waist and his nails digging into your soft skin as you begin to rotate your hips forcing him to reach new angles.

He was losing his mind, watching the way his cock slid in and out of you, the feeling of you riding him, fuck it was better than he could have ever imagined it.

The force of you bouncing against his lap became too good, so good that he made the mistake of closing his eyes. He was forced out of his temporary dissociation as you tugged at his hair and forced him to look once more.

“Eyes open, can't you miss any second of this.”

You had him completely wrapped around your finger but he didnt care, he didn’t mind at all. He would do anything if it meant having you on top of him like this time and time again, whatever you asked of him whatever you made him do he would do it. A hiss spilled from his lips as your tongue slithered from his neck, to his collarbone all the way down to his nipples. He hadn’t expected it from you but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining about it. You loved how reactive he was, his whines, his moans, the way you could feel his nails digging further into your skin with every hop movement, he was completely under your spell.

Eric was completely dazed by the entire situation, the only thing saving his brain from its temporary fog was you slipping your tongue past his lips and luring him into a heated kiss that completely took his breath away, each of his moans and whines being swallowed up into the kiss. His breathing grew faster and you could feel the twitching against your walls and sense his desperation as he himself began to guide your hips. As you feel his stomach tense beneath you immediately pull away from the kiss and force him out of you seconds before he paints your back and his chest in his cum.

“Holy shit…” his breathing was heavy and sweat dripped down his neck and forehead as he fell back onto the bench.

“Next session i'll have this so a couple mouth workouts and put those pretty lips to use.”

[mxtheialurks]

I'm here, baby. Part 1 Part 2

Hello there, so I noticed there were not a lot of Patti LuPone fics. Or... perhaps I have already read all of them...? But here it is, a 'Hollywood' fanfic between Avis Amberg and !Singer Reader. Pairing: Avis Amberg x !Singer Reader Word count: 2928 Warnings: none

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“Get your head out of the gutter, kid!” Ernie yells, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look down and realize with a jolt that you’ve overfilled a customer’s gas tank, the fuel spilling over the edges.

“Oh my God, Ernie! I’m so sorry, I—”

Ernie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Save it, kid. Go to my office. We need to have a little chat,” he says, his voice calm but heavy with disappointment.

From the small office window, you watch as Ernie talks to the man whose car you overfilled. Your stomach twists in knots as the man laughs, pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and drives off, still chuckling.

Inside, you sit anxiously, rubbing your temples as your mind spirals. Am I going to get fired? Suspended without pay? The possibilities whirl around your head like a storm until Ernie finally walks in. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, then coughs out the smoke.

Before you can say a word, he cuts you off. “Alright, what’s going on with you, Y/N? You’ve been so out of it lately. Did that guy say something to you? Something about... Dreamland?”

Your heart races, and a nervous sweat beads on your forehead. Ernie notices immediately, his expression softening as he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Tell me,” he says gently. “Did he?”

Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice wavers as you manage to stammer, “Yes, and I—I just froze...”

Without hesitation, Ernie pulls you into a hug, his large arms wrapping around you protectively. “There, there, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know you don’t have to do anything like that, right? You’re here to help me out, not deal with people looking for a good time. That is not why you’re here.” He reminds you. 

He pulls back, his voice breaking slightly as he continues, “I know how hard it’s been at home since your mom—my sister—passed away.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, as Ernie stands up and pats your shoulder. “The guy whose tank you overfilled? He’s an old buddy of mine. Didn’t realize you were Martha’s daughter until I told him. He laughed it off and even handed me a hundred bucks as an apology.”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulls out the bill, and presses it into your hand. “Now, go wipe those tears and buy yourself something nice, okay?”

A small smile breaks through your tears as you hug him tightly.

“Happy 23rd birthday, kid,” he says softly, kissing your forehead.

--------------------------------

After shedding your gas station uniform, you head to the town’s boutique, Uncle Ernie’s words ringing in your ears. It’s not often you get the chance—or the means—to splurge on yourself.

The boutique feels like another world, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixing with the polished wood floors and soft hum of instrumental music. Your gaze drifts instinctively to the rack where that dress once hung.

You’ve been dreaming about it for months—a red dress with a daring slit that cuts mid-thigh. It was perfect in every way, except for the price tag. You’d promised yourself you’d buy it someday, but that day never came. Life has a way of pushing dreams aside for bills and groceries.

“Looking for something, miss?” a cheerful clerk asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yes,” you reply, hesitantly. “Do you still have that red dress? The one with the slit—”

Before you can finish, she nods knowingly. “Wait here.”

You tap your fingers against the counter as she disappears into the back. The minutes stretch long, and your heart pounds with a mix of hope and apprehension. Then she returns, holding it.

“Here you go,” she says with a smile, presenting the dress like it’s a treasure.

Your breath catches as you take it in your hands. The fabric is even softer than you remember, the color more vibrant. Without a second thought, you pull out your wallet, the crisp bills from Uncle Ernie making it possible.

Moments later, you step out of the boutique, a grin spreading across your face. The dress swings from your hand, a symbol of something rare and precious—joy that’s yours alone.

Back at your apartment, you hold the boutique bag in hand, still glowing with excitement when a voice startles you.

“What’d you get, kid?”

“AHHH!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ernie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaim, clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“What? Can’t an uncle visit his darling niece?” he replies, unbothered, taking a drag on his ever-present cigar.

“We just saw each other earlier! What do you want?” you ask, exasperated.

He chuckles, his laugh as gruff as his demeanor. “Well, kid, I figured you’d spend your birthday alone in this crappy apartment, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m taking you to dinner—me, you, Aunt Ellen, and my good friend Avis.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Avis? You mean Avis Amberg? The owner of Ace Studios?”

Ernie nods smugly.

“Why would a big shot like her come to a birthday dinner for someone she doesn’t even know? Ernie, I’m nobody—”

“Kid, nobody is nobody in this town,” he interrupts, jabbing the air for emphasis. “Once Avis meets you, she’ll see what I see—someone who’s something.”

You snort at his dramatics.

“Come on, Y/N,” he persists, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ve always wanted to be a singer, right? Who knows—maybe she’ll have you record backing tracks for her movies. Whaddya say, hmm?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, slapping his thigh with glee. “Now doll up. Wear that sparkly red dress of yours—”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait a minute. How do you know I have a ‘sparkly red dress’ in this bag?” You hold up the sheathed garment for emphasis.

Ernie smirks, his cigar bobbing in the corner of his mouth. “Kid, you’ve been gawking at that dress every time we passed Ursula’s boutique. You think I don’t notice? Besides,” he adds with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “Ursula and I go way back.”

Your face twists in disgust as you chuck a shoe at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing as he retreats toward the door.

“See you at seven, kid! Don’t be late!” he calls out before disappearing with a slam of the door.

You sigh, glancing at the dress. “This better be worth it,” you mutter, already dreading the evening ahead.

--------------------------------

Seven on the dot, just like Ernie said. You stand in front of the restaurant, purse clutched tightly in hand. The cool evening air does little to calm the nervous energy coursing through you. Dolled up and dressed to the nines, you mutter under your breath, “Simple birthday dinner, my ass.”

The thought of the Avis Amberg being inside makes your stomach twist. What if you say the wrong thing? Or laugh awkwardly?

After a minute of deliberation—and a deep, shaky breath—you step inside. Warm air envelops you, carrying with it the sweet and savory aromas of high-end cuisine. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but it does little to drown out your own thoughts.

At the front desk, you muster your courage. “Reservation for Ernest West?”

The receptionist smiles and nods, promptly leading you to a private room.

On the way there, your thoughts race. A private room? How much did Ernie shell out for this? And with Avis Amberg as an audience? You grip your purse tighter. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

The doors to the room swing open, revealing a warm and intimate space. Ernie is the first to greet you, his arms wide as he strides toward you with his trademark exuberance.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” he exclaims, pulling you into a hearty hug.

Your eyes sweep over the table. To Ernie’s right sits Ellen Kincaid, his ever-gracious wife, offering you a warm smile. Beside Ellen is none other than Avis Amberg herself. The moment your gaze lands on her, it’s as though the world stops spinning.

Avis is a vision in red, every detail impeccable—from her perfectly coiffed updo to the shimmering jewelry that catches the light with every movement. You glance down at your own dress, also red, and feel a pang of insecurity. Great, of all colors to wear tonight...

But Avis is unfazed, her sharp eyes already reading you, assessing you in a way that makes your palms sweat.

Ernie, oblivious to your internal panic, guides you to the table and pulls out a chair. Ellen stands to greet you, kissing both your cheeks warmly, while Avis remains seated, her gaze fixed on you like a hawk sizing up its prey.

When your eyes finally meet, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. Extending her hand, she says, “And you must be the birthday girl.”

You take her hand, shaking it a little too eagerly. “I am—”

“Avis Amberg,” you finish for her, your voice steady despite your nerves.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, her grip firm but elegant. “Well, well, looks like someone did their homework.”

You laugh awkwardly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Realizing how unpolished it sounds, you quickly cease, pressing your lips together. Ernie catches it, grinning as he moves to his seat. He leans down to kiss Ellen, who playfully smacks his chest.

“Avis, you know us Wests. We always do our homework, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he says with a wink in Ellen’s direction.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Yes, darling, you do. Oh, Avis, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, our darling Y/N here is an aspiring singer—with a voice that could bring down stadiums.”

Avis raises a perfectly arched brow, her red lips curving into a faint smile as she looks at you. “Hmm? If Ellen here speaks so highly of you, perhaps I should have you perform at one of my events.”

Your face flushes as a nervous smile spreads across your lips. “Oh no, Miss. Amberg, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you ramble, trying to wave off the compliment. “Singing is more of a hobby, really. I couldn’t possibly be as good as Ellen says.”

Ellen and Ernie exchange incredulous looks.

“Nonsense, kid!” Ernie exclaims, his voice booming with pride. “I’ve heard you sing plenty while working the register, and believe me, my customers stick around just to hear you. Take some credit for once, will ya?”

His laughter fills the room, and even Avis seems amused as she leans forward, her interest clearly piqued.

“You let your niece work at your gas station, Ernie?” she asks, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “How is it that I’ve never seen her?”

Ernie smirks, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s because you never get out of your goddamn Cadillac, Avis!”

The table bursts into laughter, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eases. Still, the realization dawns on you: Avis Amberg is a regular at Golden Tip.

No wonder the boys at the station always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step, boasting about their big tips from “the lady in red.” So it was her all along—the powerful woman who spent money like it grew on trees.

As the laughter dies down, Avis rests her chin on her hand, her sharp gaze locking onto you. “Well, Y/N, it sounds like you’ve been hiding a talent that the world deserves to hear.”

Her words make your heart race, but the warmth in her tone sparks something new: hope.

“Thank you, Miss Amberg,” you say, your tone polite but still tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, baby,” she waves a hand dismissively, her bracelets jangling softly, “you may call me Avis. You’re making my back ache with all the pleasantries.”

You chuckle lightly, a genuine smile breaking through as you nod. “Well then, thank you, Avis.”

Her lips curl into a grin, pleased by your adjustment. “That’s better,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. “Now, tell me, Y/N—what’s your favorite song to sing?”

Her question catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment. “Oh, well, I guess it depends,” you say, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I like singing jazz, mostly. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald… their music speaks to me.”

Avis’s eyes light up, the mention of such timeless legends clearly striking a chord. “Ah, the classics,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Music that comes from the soul. You have good taste.”

Ernie beams at the exchange, clearly proud of you. “See, Avis? Told you the kid’s got it. I’d bet my bottom dollar she could belt out something right here and knock our socks off.”

You quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, no, I couldn’t! Not here, not now,” you stammer. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly… prepared.”

Ellen chimes in with a gentle laugh, “Oh, don’t mind Ernie. He loves putting people on the spot. But if you ever want to perform, Y/N, I’m sure Avis would love to hear you.”

Avis nods, swirling her glass of wine thoughtfully. “Indeed. There’s something about live music, especially when it comes from a genuine place. You’d be surprised how often talent like yours gets lost in the noise of this town.”

Her words carry weight, and for a moment, you feel as though she’s speaking directly to your deepest fears. Lost in the noise. Ernie, ever the optimist, claps his hands together. “Lost? Not this kid! She’s got a voice people’ll remember. Ain’t that right, Y/N?”

You give a shy smile, nodding slightly. “I guess so. I mean… I hope so.”

Avis’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before she raises her glass. “To hope, then. And to talent that deserves a stage.”

Everyone joins in the toast, raising their glasses with a clink. You sip your drink, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest. For the first time tonight, you feel like you truly belong at the table.

The dinner continued with laughter, stories, and a surprising ease that settled over the table. Ernie, true to form, dominated the conversation with his larger-than-life anecdotes, and Ellen balanced him out with her gentle humor. Avis occasionally chimed in, her remarks sharp and observant, but never unkind.

By the time dessert arrived, you were almost convinced you could get through the night without further incident. That is, until Avis set down her fork, leaned forward, and fixed you with a look that felt both intimidating and encouraging.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone measured, “tell me, what do you really want? In this town, I mean. Surely you’re not content to spend your life working at your uncle’s gas station.”

The question landed heavily, and the table went quiet. Ernie gave you a small nod of encouragement, while Ellen offered a reassuring smile.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the edge of your napkin. “I… I want to sing,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to perform. To be out there in front of many people, the spotlight is only for me. My voice ringing deliciously in their ears, I want to become a broadway star” 

Avis studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Watching you enunciate every word, how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. Her gaze lingers for a while there and when you finally finish she meets your eyes with enthusiasm. 

“Let me tell you something about this town,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “It doesn’t matter who you know—or don’t know. What matters is how badly you want it and what you’re willing to do to get it. Talent can only take you so far. The rest? That’s grit.”

You nodded, absorbing her words, though a part of you still doubted your place in a world as ruthless as hers.

Avis seemed to sense this. “You’ve got a spark, Y/N. I can see it. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

Before you could answer, Ernie jumped in, his voice full of enthusiasm. “That’s what I’ve been telling her! She’s got the goods, Avis. She just needs the right person to see it.”

Avis’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, Ernie, perhaps that person is sitting right here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Avis said, setting her glass down, “I’m planning a charity gala next month. I always need fresh talent for Ace Studios. I have been thinking about it, expanding from motion pictures to Broadway plays and musical numbers. It’s not a guarantee, but if you’re willing to audition, I could give you a shot.”

The room seemed to tilt as her words sank in. An audition? For Avis Amberg? It felt too good to be true.

You managed a shaky nod. “I—I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Avis said, her tone playful but firm. “The real work starts now, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Will do a part two or more if you're interested in reading more. Hehe.

[yuff7e]

hi! Can I pls request a one shot of reader comforting the hashira abt their biggest insecurity? Also, can reader pls be gn? Thank you! I love ur work!!!!!

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ comforting the hashira about their biggest insecurity’s !! ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ headcanons + small fic(s) / fluff (??) / angst / mentiones of violence / mentions of self-hatred / TW !!

gender neutral

hiya anon !! thanks so much for requesting this !! it’s so creative, and definitely put me to work (haha) !! i love requests like these where it’s about multiple people :) anywho, enjoy !! <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

₊˚ପ⊹ gyomei himejema !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his immense strength

- hey, who wouldn’t like being strong and being able to beat up anyone in their path ?

- gyomei.

- we all know he’s an extremely kind hearted man, and hates hurting other living beings

- so imagine walking in on him one day, sitting on his knees - silently crying to himself

—

“gyomei? are you alright?!” you rush over to his side and he just sits there, looking into space. you run a hand over his arm in an attempt to get him to look at you, he turns his head in your direction - hot white tears spilling out of his eyes.

“ah, [name]. hello.” he speaks, you stare at his state and ask him what’s wrong - he stays quiet. you question him again, letting him know you wouldn’t judge him. he turns his head forward and opens his mouth to speak - “my.. strength. i am capable of many things, harming people. i do not wish that upon anyone.”

you smooth a hand over his forearm, reaching the beads he was holding in his hands. “gyomei, you are not a bad person. you have not hurt anyone, we’re hashira for a reason. we save people.” - “but demons used to be people too, before muzan kibutsuji - they had a life just like us.” you sigh at his words.

“gyomei, they were the people we couldn’t save. we cannot save everyone, but - saving a few is enough.” his white eyes flick downward toward the floor, blinking slowly. “i suppose. thank you, [name].”

₊˚ପ⊹ tengen uzui !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his inferiority complex

- he shows insecurities toward his fellow hashira, worrying he will never be as great as them.

- because of this, he locks himself away some days and sits training on his own terms

- abusing his mental and physical state immensely.

- imagine walking in on him as he trains himself to his knees, collapsing over and breathing heavy - clearly upset.

—

“tengen?! what are you doing?” you ask, standing in the doorway of his room - he glances back at you. “[name]? what are you doing in here?” he strains, sitting up - placing a hand on his knee. “do you need help?” you walk toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder and he looks back at you once more.

“no, im fine. thanks though.” - “tengen.” he blinks, holding his sword in a shaky hand - “do i look strong?” you raise your eyebrows at his question, “what do you mean? of course you do, do you not think that?” his gaze stiffens when you say that. noticing his stiff demeanor you glance down at his hands, he’s shaking.

“tengen, your abusing your power too much. you need to take a break, that’s why we have a schedule.” - “i don’t feel strong..” he whispers and your eyes widen at his response, “what? seriously? tengen, you are.” you brush your hand against his in a comforting manner, and he smiles weakly.

“thank you, [name]. sorry for this, maybe i do need to take a break!” - “yeah, i think you do.”

₊˚ପ⊹ kyojuro rengoku !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his unwavering will

- the way he wants to protect those weaker than him eats at his brain every night

- thinking of the people he couldn’t save, the people he couldn’t get to in time

- people suffered, because he couldn’t save them.

- imagine waking up and seeing him standing outside, looking at the moon with tears prickling his eyes at his thoughts.

—

“rengoku, are you okay?” you ask, walking up behind him as he stares at the moon somberly. he turns to the sound of your voice, blinking away his tears. “[name]! hello!” he shakes off his sadness quickly once he sees your face in order to hide it.

you notice this, and look at him sadly - “rengoku, what are you doing out here? it’s night..” - “sorry [name], i was just thinking.” he looks up at the moon again, sighing. “don’t apologize, is something bothering you? you can talk to me.”

he turns toward you once more at your reply, “it’s just.. all of the people i couldn’t save! suffering.” you watch him intently as he confesses his feelings, looking into his deep golden eyes. “rengoku, you have saved more people than i can count. more people than i have, that’s such an amazing thing.”

he smiles at your words, his sadness fading as you compliment him. his thoughts of not being able to save some people will never leave his brain, but knowing he’s saved just a few is more than enough for him. “thank you [name]! i don’t know what id do without someone like you!”

₊˚ପ⊹ sanemi shinazugawa !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his appearance

- having to cut himself to intoxicate demons is not anything short of brave.

- but it takes a toll on his self esteem, the cuts across his face, tummy, arms, etc.

- he didn’t really think about his looks after he saw what demons looked like, but it still eats away at him sometimes.

- imagine seeing him training and glancing in a window, his expression changing into an aggressive one at his own image - saying things how he looks disgusting, hideous, etc.

—

“sanemi! don’t say things like that!” you yell, running towards him. you knew sanemi quite well, especially since he was one of the most.. unique looking hashiras.

“[name]?! what the hell do you know? leave me alone.” he continues his training, turning away from you. “i heard what you said, and that’s untrue! you’re perfect! don’t say those things about yourself.” he stiffens at your confession but doesn’t stop training.

“what the hell? so you’re an eavesdropper? now scram!” he slashes one of the dummies heads clean off, you watch as his aggressive demeanor falters for a second after he finishes. “it’s not true, sanemi.”

he stays quiet, looking at the dummy - his face doesn’t change but you see him tightening his grip on his sword. “thanks [name].”

₊˚ପ⊹ giyu tomioka !!

- his biggest insecurity would also be his inferiority complex

- like tengen, he also feels inferior towards the other hashiras

- hence why he says he’s “different” than the rest of them.

- he isolates himself from the others quite frequently, and you begin to worry for him.

- imagine checking up on him and he’s laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling..

—

“giyu.. how are you doing?” you trot towards his bed, kneeling down. you’ve known giyu for a while, having a steady relationship - which has given him time to trust you. he stares for a bit before replying, “i’m tired today, i’ll get up soon.”

you look at him softly, placing a hand on his arm and he glances towards you - “i’m fine.” - “you’re not.” he looks back up toward the ceiling, he looks ill. “giyu, what happened? talk to me.” you squeeze his arm gently and he sits himself up, “nothing, [name]. i’m fine, just tired.”

you wait there, silent. you knew if you waited he’d eventually cave and tell you what’s wrong, and so he did. “i am different from the others, i am not like them.” - “what are you talking about? you’re as equal if not superior to the other hashiras. at least you are to me.” you smile at him, comforting his thoughts.

he sends you a weak grin before dropping it, “thank you, [name]. i will be fine, i promise.” - “i believe you, and please giyu - tell me if something is bothering you. i want to be here for you.”

₊˚ପ⊹ mitsuri kanroji !!

- her biggest insecurity would be her fear of rejection

- she’s always been concerned with the way she looks, acts, and how she appears to others.

- suppressing her true feelings, emotions, and personality in order to fit in.

- her being concerned that no one wants to marry her is a big deal to her, and it eats away at her constantly

- imagine you’re hanging out with her, and she asks you a question that makes you question her state of mind..

—

“[name], do you think anyone would want to marry me? be honest!” she asks, her cheeks burning - waiting for your reply. you look at her with wide eyes, chuckling at her question. “what do you mean? of course someone would want to marry you.” - “you’re not just saying that, right?”

looking into her eyes you can sense her lacking self esteem, you ask her why she feels like that and why is she asking you such a question? she falls silent, clutching onto her skirt - “it’s just.. what if i get rejected? i want to fit in y’know!” she confesses, tears prickling at her inner corners and you quickly go to console her.

“mitsuri! don’t be stupid, anyone would want to marry you! honest. listen, if i could marry you i would in a heartbeat! you’re the best person i’ve ever met.” she stares at you, then she begins to smile. “thank you so much [name]!! i just want to live happily ever after with someone.. y’know what i mean?!”

“yeah, i do.”

₊˚ପ⊹ obani iguro !!

- obani has many insecurities, but his biggest ones would have to be his appearance and background.

- growing up, the clan he was in never made him feel good enough. torturing him beyond repair.

- he’s grown up feeling worthless, and the scars across his mouth state just that.

- he can’t even look in the mirror without disgust, nor have friendships & relationships where he doesn’t feel inferior

- imagine seeing him without his mask on for the first time, and he freaks out - telling you how sorry he is for you to have witnessed something so horrific…

—

“[name]! sorry! i—“ he stutters, quickly reaching for his mask to wrap around his mouth - you just stare at him. “obani.. you look..” he cuts you off, clearly panicking.

“no, i know what you’re going to say. you don’t have to tell me twice, i know how disgusting i look.” you gasp at his words, there’s no way he just said that about himself. “obani, no! i wasn’t going to say that! you look great.. how can you ever say that about yourself?” you hurry over toward him, grabbing ahold of one of his hands.

“you don’t think so?..” he whispers, looking back at you with his yellow and blue eyes. “yes obani, you look amazing! i’m glad i saw you, now i really know what my friend looks like… and it looks great.” he smiles a little at your words, a pink hue laminating his cheeks out of slight embarrassment.

“thank you, [name].”

₊˚ପ⊹ muichiro tokito !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his forgetfulness

- i mean of course he would probably forget that insecurity because he forgets everything… however

- there are days when his mind is more clear, and he realizes all of the things he could achieve if he was always like that

- some days he wishes to himself to give him the ability to remember things more clearly, his friends, his things, his family.

- imagine finding him one day, seemingly upset over something you weren’t too familiar with until now …

—

“muichiro! hello!” you jog toward the boy who’s kneeled down on the ground, staring into the grass “hello? muichiro what are you doing?” you place your hands on your knees as you try to get a good look at his face, his cheeks were flushed and wet.

“muichiro? hey are you okay? talk to me.” you kneel down beside him and shake his shoulder a little, causing him to look at you. “huh? oh, hello. who..” he trails off, looking into your face - you look back at him sadly, he had forgotten you.

“muichiro it’s me, [name]. what are you doing? are you alright?” you ask, pulling your hand away from him and placing it onto your lap. “uh, i don’t know. i can’t remember.” he looks upset again, suddenly - a tear rolls down his cheek. “muichiro!”

“sorry, i just can’t remember.” he coils over and wipes a hand against his eyes, “i don’t know why i can’t remember.” - “muichiro it’s okay, please don’t cry. you’ll be alright, you’re here with me.” you smile at him and he looks up at you, his eyes glisten.

“i suppose, uh— sorry what was i talking about again?”

₊˚ପ⊹ shinobu kocho !!

- her biggest insecurity would also be an inferiority complex

- she’s extremely insecure of her physical body, and how she’s not as strong as the other pillars.

- she curses herself for not developing further, and wishes she could be as physically strong as the others …

- it eats away at her confidence and self esteem, locking herself away from the others wasn’t uncommon

- imagine having a deep conversation with her, and she admits to feeling ashamed of her physical body to you…

—

“what? you really think that?” you gawk, and she nods. “i’m quite ashamed, really. i wish i was as physically capable as the others… i trust you with this knowledge, [name]. do you think so too?” she looks into your eyes and you can’t help but feel your heart silently breaking for her.

“no, i don’t. that’s absurd that you think that! you’re quite beautiful! why would you ever think that about yourself? you are just as capable as the others.” she smiles sadly at your words, looking down into her lap. “i suppose.” she sighs.

“don’t beat yourself up for it, seriously. i can tell you one thing, i know for certain you’re smarter than most of the hashiras here..” you laugh a little at your own comment and she does too.

“thank you, [name]. that really makes me feel better, you’re a great person. i’m happy to have you in my life.”

—

that’s it! i’ve finished :) this was really fun to write!! i love writing for the hashiras but tend to only do it when someone requests since it takes up a lot of my time to get through all of them - and i like to post fast. hope you’ve enjoyed !! <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[heartfullofleeches]

I love that idea for the 4th franken hound!

Also just read ff reader with shorts lore have mercy plEase MORE FAST FOOD READER THIGHS

(FF Reader crushing things with their thighs? FF Reader crushing things with their thighs)

"Go! Go! Go! Go!"

Everytime they show up late- The janitor tracks the roar of cheers and hollers to the play area doors. A sticky substance bolts their feet to the floor as they enter - bitterness punching them in the gut knowing they'll have to be the one to clean the mess up. The janitor surveys the filthy covered floor to see the extent of the damaged, grimacing at each new sight they see. Some produce that looked liked it been pressed with a rolling pin, a flattened kid's meal box, a crushed soda can? What the hell happened while they were fixing their tires?

...

"...Holy shit..."

Sitting at one of the tables, your fellow crew mates surround you. The bathroom succubus cheers you on from over your shoulder, phone camera pointed at your lap. Lambchop towers over you, enjoying the flesh of your previous victims - the juices of raw tomatoes and apples staining the mascots white fur. Their eyes too focus on the item between your thighs, more hunger present in them than usual. Even the ice cream machine ghost was apart of the crowd - his eternal prison wheeled into the venue so he wouldn't miss out. None of you would hear the end of it if you did. He points out a hairline fracture splitting through the middle section of the fruit held between your thighs.

"I see a line! It's breaking! Keep going!"

Sure enough, the split widens as you squeeze harder - the red innards of the melon spilling from within and down your sticky legs. Gripping the undersides of your seat, you lift yourself off from the table as beads of sweat pour down your face - flexing your muscles as the strain increases around the melon's thick skin. You shovel two fingers between the gap, holding it in place as you plop back down on the bench. You throw one leg over the other and with one final compression the watermelon breaks in two - lower half falling into the waiting hands of Lambchop as you hold up the rest to show to everyone.

"Who wants watermelon?!"

Thunderous applause rumbles from the ball pit as the hands clap in celebration of your victory. The bathroom succubus replays the exact moment the watermelon splits exchanging words of disbelief with the ice cream machine ghost.

"They fucking did it- They actually did it-"

"I know- Dude, I totally didn't think they were gonna get pass that coconut either, but they did."

The Janitor picks their jaw off the floor as you notice them at last, waving them over. "...was did all this stuff go back or something?"

You place your half of the watermelon on the table. "Probably not. We've been cleaning out the ball pit since you hate to do it and somewhere along the line Lye dared me to crush a soda cup between my legs which lead to this."

"Cool....cool..... Can...can someone send me that video?"

[nottivagos]

MECHANIC DANNY MECHANIC DANNY 🤤🤤 reader who works on his shop during summer break and just can't stop staring at him 'cause Danny undoes his belt as he works, stomach spilling out and the waistband of his boxers visible

(Knock knock! Who's there?) Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Sunday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: oh nonnie.... you wouldn't do this to me.... surely....? i am actually going feral i think you broke me whilst i wrote this. it doesn't help that @orangeblossomsintheair literally fed me more feral thoughts for this ask.

The air in the reception area of the garage was stifling. It didn’t help that the AC had been broken for months, unfixed due to Danny’s disinterest in mending it, so when the summer months did arrive, it hit you all like a burning tidal wave. The humidity made you restless, constantly fidgeting in your seat as your body tried to regulate a cool temperature, the fabric of your flimsy outfit clinging to your sweaty skin.

During these days, you knew not to approach Danny whilst he worked. Not only did the hot weather sour his mood even more than it usually was, he was typically non-verbal, responding to your questions and comments with a disinterested grunt. Your cheeks flushed as you sat in the excruciating heat, clammy hands unable to type onto invoices you desperately needed to do.

Sweat beaded at your forehead, as you stared blankly at the computer screen, the water by your side now a painful lukewarm temperature instead of the desired ice cold, but you still drank it in one gulp, as you struggled in the warmth of your little office. You could feel yourself forming a migraine from your lack of fluids, the annoying pain in your head causing your vision to blur. 

Danny’s loud rock music wasn’t making it better. Hard guitar riffs and pounding drums droned around the workshop as he tended to a client’s car, the occasional clanging of his metal tools being rummaged around in his toolbox adding to the harsh noises. You groaned in annoyance, rubbing your throbbing forehead to try and alleviate the pain, before pushing yourself out of your swivel chair, and over to the water fountain to refill your now empty cup.

Standing there idly, you let the cold enough water pour into the cup. The trickling sound acted as a soothing alternative to Danny’s row in the workshop. Glancing at the worn-out clock on the wall for a moment, you sighed, noticing that it was only midday. As much as you appreciated your job, it wasn’t the best. Being known as the “pretty face in the reception” wasn’t the nicest title to have in the male-dominated garage, and it didn’t help that your boss was newly out of a divorce, making him an angry brute that channelled his anger into fixing cars as a living.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” broke you out of your thoughts. You jumped at the intensity of Daniel’s agitated roar, placing the now filled cup on the top of the fountain whilst you watched him with curious eyes. He gritted his teeth in annoyance whilst you admired him from afar in silence, tossing the large wrench he was holding in a tight grip to the side.

It landed on the cold floor with a deafening bang, followed by Daniel charging around the car like a raging bull in a bullfight. However, in those moments, you weren’t scared of his grumpy facial expressions or tense muscles, you were completely in awe of him. Baggy overalls tied around his soft tummy ever so more snugly, his slightly tighter white vest ruined by the numerous oil smears and smudges rode up his stomach, the sight intoxicating. Panting, his cheeks flushed from the manual labour as you watched the sweat form on his wet forehead, before a dirty hand came to wipe the grime away, but only smearing more mess onto his skin in the process.

You could tell he was hot and bothered, and my God was the moment dreamy. Most people would cower with fear, but here you were completely enamoured by his aggressive and pent-up demeanour. His stress was palpable, even more than it usually was. It was common for him to feel more agitated during these months, more clients demanded MOTs and services as the Summer Holidays approached with haste. You’d observed him grunting and grumbling his dislikes for the period whenever he barked orders at you to complete more paperwork for him, or ordering specific parts from manufacturers for people’s cars.

In a way, you sympathised with him. You understood he had a lot on his plate, his coping mechanisms highlighted that. During the summer, he’d smoke more, which did make you concerned for his health. To which he’d reply with a bark, telling you to “keep out of his business and to stop trying to be his goddamn wife”, obviously your innocent care hitting a nerve too close to home for the mechanic.

You could see the way his vest was now clinging to his stomach, sweat visible down his burly arms and the top of his hairy chest as his muscles slightly flexed whenever he used a tool on the engine of his current project. You could sense his distaste for the heat and the effect it was having on his comfort of his clothes from the safety of the office whilst you continued to ogle at him through the window, thighs slowly rubbing together to cause some friction to aid the pooling heat of your insides.

What didn't help was the fact that he'd just discarded his vest with an unamused grunt. He tossed the clothing to the side, his hairy chest and soft stomach now happily presenting itself. You watched his happy trail slowly creep up from his clothed bottoms, his boxers showing ever so slightly over his waistband as he slipped his belt off with ease to alleviate some more of his growing discomfort, and felt your cheeks burn with the desire to trace your fingertips across the messy trail slowly up his softer belly.

“Stupid fuckin’ summer,” he muttered profanities with annoyance. Your eyes now glued onto him as he lay on the workshop floor, which he'd swiftly moved his position to as you daydreamt, inspecting the car from below. “Everyone’s got the same fuckin’ demands, same problems,” Danny continued to grumble whilst agitated, holding his torch with a death grip, jaw tensely locked into place in annoyance.

You stood there stunned like a deer in headlights. His unkempt beauty was intoxicating, each hairy feature of his plush belly spilling out of his trousers suffocating waistband pulling you in like a magnetic force you couldn't resist even with your own might.

So sucked into your own thoughts, you didn't even realise the death stare he'd given you as he realised you were staring at him from inside. He snorted angrily, nostrils flaring before he roared.

“Oi! What do you think you're gawkin’ at, huh?” He barked from the workshop. The intensity of his loud voice made you jump out of your daze, followed by the realisation that he was storming towards you with annoyance. “I thought I told you to do some of the books, princess,” he gruffly spoke as he finally made his way to you inside the office, standing menacingly in front of you, “I don't think I mentioned idling around the water fountain as something you were supposed to do today.”

Your mouth was agape as his chunky form loomed over you, his large figure swallowing your small one whole. You gulped nervously, anxiety twisting in your stomach, mingling with the adrenaline shooting through your veins as your eyes averted his own gaze.

“I-I'm sorry, boss, I was just getting a drink!” You exclaimed in panic, cheeks flushing incredibly hot in embarrassment of being caught ogling.

“Gettin’ a drink doesn't involve starin’, missy,” Danny snorted, a smirk forming on his lips at your bashful state. “Especially not starin’ at your boss whilst he's working, don'tcha think?” He quizzed, his eyebrow raising with humour, tinged with slight teasing.

“No, Danny. It doesn't,” you replied bashfully, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to overcome the embarrassment you were feeling.

He snorted with amusement in response, pushing his bare chest against your front, the softness of his tummy pressing ever so slightly on you driving you wild. “You're lucky that you have such a pretty face so I can let you off easily, doll,” he hummed, a calloused hand coming to cup your burning cheek.

“Otherwise, you'd be in big trouble,” he warned lowly, thumb rubbing across the apple of your cheek, the intimacy like electricity. “God, you're going to be the death of me one day, princess.”

Chuckling nervously in response, his words made you shiver on the spot, the feeling overwhelming. “I'm sorry, D-Danny,” you apologised meekly, your lips forming a sad frown. “I won't stare again, I promise.”

“I know you won't,” Danny cooed, his lips now hovering over your own as his large nose nuzzled closer to your nose. “Come to my office later,” his words fanned hotly over your lip, “I'll give you somethin’ to stare at then, sweetheart.”

Danny's lips then stole a kiss from you, leaving you breathless as he abruptly pulled away, patting your cheek with his hand as it slipped away from your face.

“I hope to see you later, princess,” he said with a smug smile, “I'd hate for you to lose your job over not following a small demand.” He finished, turning on his heel towards the exit of the office before giving you a knowing wink, then leaving you alone dumbfounded and flustered at the water fountain.

like divorced mechanic!danny? fancy sending me an ask in my inbox so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[pupuyvs]

47

Chaewon quickly checks her appearance once more in the mirror.

She wanted to look absolutely perfect for Jihye.

“You look dumb,” Eunchae says, breaking Chaewon’s concentration.

Chaewon rolls her eyes, “What do you want, Jihye is waiting outside.”

“Nothing, just wanted to say you look dumb.”

“Thanks Eunchae,” Chaewon says as she grabs her overnight bag.

“It’s a good thing.”

Chaewon raises an eyebrow, “How is looking “dumb” a good thing?”

Eunchae shrugs looking down at her shoes, “Never seen you dress like this for Yeonjun, you’re always looking uncomfortable and “not dumb,” and I don’t know it’s nice to see you differently.”

Chaewon smiles at the younger girl, “Softening up on me?”

Eunchae scoffs, “No, never.”

“Good, after all it’s just a first date,” Chaewon feels her phone buzz in her hand, another text from Jihye, “A first date I’m currently making wait.”

Eunchae moves away from the door as Chaewon walks towards it.

“Be safe, if Jihye tries anything I’ll fight her.”

Chaewon nods as she chuckles, “I’ll make sure to bring something back from wherever we go for you.”

Eunchae smiles in response, which causes Chaewon to smile back at her. She hugs the taller girl before finally walking down the stairs and leaving the house.

When she walks out she sees Jihye leaning against her car, looking down to fidget with her hands. Once she hears the front door close she looks up and smiles causing Chaewon to blush lightly.

“Here, let me take that,” Jihye says once Chaewon reaches her, grabbing her overnight bag.

With the bag in one hand, she opens the passenger door with the other.

“Thank you,” Chaewon says as she gets in the car.

Once the door closes she takes it as an opportunity to take a look around the interior of the car.

The car was an older Honda, with fabric seats that held tiny wear and tear from over the years. Fingerprints were visible on any place they could stick. There were small cartoon stickers on the dashboard; beads and a car freshener that smelt of cinnamon, hanging from the rearview mirror. As she went to take a look at the back seat the driver door opened, Jihye got in with a small smile.

“Ready to go?”

Chaewon nods, which causes Jihye to put her seatbelt on and start up the car.

As they leave through the roundabout in front of Chaewon’s house, Chaewon takes it as another opportunity to look around the car some more.

The back of the car was big enough to fit three people, with small stains from what was clearly past food spills. On the floor was Jihye’s soccer bag, her cleats, jersey and shin guards spilling out of it. The floor clearly had just been vacuumed recently, the material having the clear telltale signs.

It was different from what she was used to, her family and friends' cars were luxurious, leather seats with beautiful trim littering the dashboard and doors. The car windows would be crystal clean, everyone who would enter the car knowing to not touch anything their hands wouldn’t touch regularly. However, Chaewon finds she didn’t mind Jihye’s car, in fact she might’ve preferred it like this, it felt more comfortable.

When she looks forward she sees a hand holding a wire in front of her.

“So you can play music,” Jihye says while still looking at the road.

Chaewon nods before taking the wire and plugging it into her phone, she plays the first playlist she sees and puts her phone on her lap.

“This song sounds good.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Chaewon responds.

“Really? What is it?”

“In love by ADOY.”

Jihye hums, “I have to add it to my playlist.”

Chaewon doesn’t respond, leading them to fall into a small comfortable silence.

“How long do we have till we get there again,” Chaewon asks after a few songs play.

“Almost three hours, you can take a small nap if you want to, we’ll be out for a bit tonight.”

Chaewon nods, but before she could respond she gets distracted.

See Chaewon was a simple girl, she never claimed to be any different, so she couldn’t be blamed for being distracted when she sees Jihye’s right hand now resting on the center console. She knew she could just hold Jihye’s hands, but she felt nervous for the first time in a while, see she never held hands with Yeonjun, why would she, she didn’t actually like him, and Yena didn’t like to hold hands. So now here she was stuck, struggling to hold someone’s hand.

She sighed out as she flexed her left hand, “Just grab her hand,” Chaewon thinks to herself.

Too distracted, she doesn’t see Jihye glancing at her, concerned with each sigh Chaewon lets out.

“You okay Chaewon?”

Chaewon looks at her before spitting out the question, “Can I hold your hand?”

Jihye quickly gives Chaewon a shocked look before nodding and holding her hand up.

Jihye’s hand was soft, with old small calluses littering it, which Chaewon assumed came from childhood adventures. It was slightly bigger than hers and was more so on the slimmer side, to put it simply, it was perfect for Chaewon.

“Feeling better?”

“Sorry?”

“You were sighing a lot so I just thought you weren’t feeling okay,” Jihye tells her.

“I am, thank you.”

Jihye doesn’t respond which leaves Chaewon to turn her attention back to their intertwined hands, which she pulls onto her lap. She quickly takes a picture of it with her other hand, the music pauses causing Jihye to look at her before smiling and staying silent.

Once the music resumed Chaewon is slowly lulled to sleep by the atmosphere and warmth Jihye’s hand brings, after just a few minutes of trying to fight it Chaewon ends up falling into a deep sleep.

Chaewon is pulled from her slumber by Jihye trying to pull her hand from hers. Not wanting to separate, Chaewon holds on tighter causing the other to let out a sound of exasperation.

“Chae, I need you to let go.”

Chae? I like the sound of that.

“Chae, please let go, we’re here.”

Chaewon finally lets Jihye’s hand slip from hers as she opens her eyes to look around.

They were parked on a very typical countryside street, dogs outside, clothing lines decorating the front of every house while bikes are parked against them.

The slam of the trunk pulls her out of her observations, she watches as Jihye walks up a couple of stairs before sliding open a door and disappearing.

Chaewon takes this as the chance to check her phone only to see multiple messages from Yizhuo and Eunchae, both wondering if she was alive.

She rolls her eyes at their dramatics before responding to them both saying she was more than okay.

She jumps lightly when there is a knock on the window, relaxing when she sees it is Jihye.

Jihye opens her door slightly before standing in the opening, essentially caging her in.

She begins talking but Chaewon is way too distracted by the lipstick print on her cheek.

Chaewon is a very possessive person, always has been, and since discovering Jihye her possessive nature has only grown. So seeing another persons kiss mark on someone she considered hers was not something she was happy about.

“So what do you think?”

Chaewon simply gestures for Jihye to lean down, which she does, albeit confused.

Once she was close enough Chaewon licks the tip of her thumb and immediately starts wiping the mark off Jihye’s face. When it was gone enough to satisfy Chaewon she smiles, “Repeat what you were saying.”

Now blushing Jihye repeats herself, “I was saying that we should walk, the place is only 10 minutes away, and there probably won’t be any parking so you know…”

Chaewon simply nods before unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

Once out Jihye closes the door for her and locks it, looking at Chaewon she smiles and holds her hand out, “Shall we?”

The walk had been peaceful so far, it taking a bit longer than 10 minutes due to Jihye having to stop to say hi to a person she seemed to have known along the way. As they get closer the smell of food gets stronger along with the loudness of people. It wasn’t until Chaewon spotted a ferris wheel in the distance did she know where they were going.

“You brought me to a carnival?”

Jihye shrugs slightly, “More so a festival, I hope that’s okay.”

Chaewon quickly nods, “More than okay I’ve always wanted to go to one as a kid. It also helps no one will notice us here.”

The smile on Jihye’s face drops, “Right.”

Before Chaewon could see the change in Jihye’s attitude she immediately puts a smile back on and pulls her to where the entrance is.

Once inside Chaewon drops Jihye’s hand so she can take everything in. It was exactly as she expected it to be; rows and rows of food, games, and vendors selling things, the lights coming from them slightly dull due to the sun still being up. Live music, being played from somewhere, filling the gaps in the hundreds of conversations around them.

Jihye smiles as she takes a couple of steps back to take a picture of the girl, she had purposely cleaned out her camera roll since she knew she would want to take hundreds of her tonight.

Once satisfied with the picture she goes back to the girl’s side, “I was thinking since the sun doesn’t set for about another hour, we could look at some of the vendors here, do a couple of rides, play some games, then when it gets dark eat, and do it all again. We can save the ferris wheel for last.”

Chaewon nods excitedly before hugging the girl's arm, “Let's do exactly that.”

Jihye chuckles softly at the girl before nodding and starting to walk, Chaewon still clinging onto her arm.

The first thing they did was shop for Chaewon’s friends and Eunchae. Finding cute trinkets she thought each girl might like.

Chaewon was in the middle of looking at a necklace when Jihye tears away from her, causing her to immediately look up.

“I’ll be right back.”

With that Jihye walks away, Chaewon looks back at the necklace but feels herself growing uninterested due to Jihye no longer being next to her.

“Can I please get it?”

Chaewon turns to the noise, it was a little girl asking her mom for a bracelet. The mother gave the girl a look Chaewon has never seen before and watches as she shakes her head softly, “It’s too much sweetie.”

The little girl nods sadly and Chaewon feels her heart clench slightly, she quickly calls over the vendor, “How much is that bracelet?”

“75,000 won.”

Chaewon nods before handing over her card. The vendor quickly swipes her card and bags up the bracelet, but is confused when she shakes her head. “Give it to that little girl, tell them you decided to give it to them.”

The vendor nods and quickly does it, Chaewon smiles when she sees the shock on both the mom and daughter’s face. She was watching the mom put the bracelet on her daughter when she is pulled from the sight by a familiar voice nearly whispering in her ear, “That was a nice thing to do.”

Chaewon shrugs before turning to Jihye, “Why’d you leave me?”

Jihye looks at Chaewon with a look in her eyes, another one she isn’t familiar with, but as quickly as it is there it is gone. She watches as Jihye lifts something up in front of her, and looks at it confused, “A necklace? I don’t really need one.”

“Just take it.”

As she grabs it she spots something new on Jihye’s thumb, which causes her to look back at the necklace, before gasping and hitting her arm.

“You got us matching jewelry?”

Jihye, still rubbing the area Chaewon hit, sheepishly nods, “I hope that’s okay, I thought it’d be cool if we had something matching to remember this day by. It’s also lowkey so no one will notice.”

Chaewon quickly put the necklace back in Jihye’s hand before turning around, “Put it on me.”

The necklace was a skinny chain that had a ring with a small sun engraved into it, it matching perfectly with the thumb ring Jihye now had on that had a small moon engraving.

When Jihye finishes closing the clasp Chaewon immediately turns around and hugs her.

Jihye hugs her back, “I take it you like it?”

Chaewon quickly nods as she pulls back, “I love it.”

Jihye smiles before biting her bottom lip nervously, “I know it's nothing compared to what Yeonjun could probably get you, I just thought it’d be nice. Actually, give it back it’s stupid.”

Chaewon immediately steps back from Jihye’s hand, “If you touch it I’ll kill you.”

Jihye freezes, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Not giving Jihye a chance to respond she immediately grabs her arm and starts pulling her through the crowd, “The sun is setting, let's eat and then I want you to win me one of those big bears.”

After looking at different food options Jihye ended up choosing an American style stall that she had said sounded familiar. Once they finally reach the ordering window, a young man around their age starts taking their order. “Welcome to Joey’s what would you- Jihye?!”

Previously looking for her phone, she immediately looks up and her eyes widened, “Hanbin?!?”

The teen, who Chaewon now knows is Hanbin, smiles widely, “Long time no see!”

He was now leaning fully out the stall so the girl could hear him better, “How’ve you been,” he asked.

“Good.”

“Yeah? How’s Seoul been treating you?”

“Pretty well, I’m part of the soccer team now.”

Hanbin laughs before realizing she was being serious, “Really? Clumsy Jihye playing soccer…who would’ve thought?”

Jihye chuckles at the old nickname, “I know, how’ve you been?”

“Well enough, working the stall with my dad nowadays.”

“Is Mr. Sung here?”

Hanbin nods before pulling back to call for his dad, after a few seconds an older version of Hanbin pops out from behind the stall. As he stands in front of Jihye he stares for a few before taking her into a tight hug, “Little Hye, it’s been too long.”

Chaewon laughs at the look on Jihye's face. Once she is put down Jihye immediately slouches over, “I see you’re still a big hugger Mr. Sung.”

The older man stares at the girl once more, “You go to Seoul and suddenly it’s Mr. Sung, you know it’s Uncle Jihoon.”

Jihye nodded, “Right, Uncle Jihoon.”

The older Sung smiles as he pats Jihye back when he finally notices Chaewon, “Hey who is this? Your girlfriend?”

Chaewon smiles and just as she’s about to accept the title Jihye answers, “No, this is my friend from Seoul, Chaewon.”

Chaewon immediately glares at the girl as she greets the two Sungs. As she continues glaring another boy comes over and taps the older man, “Sorry to interrupt this, but the lines getting kinda crazy and I need help.”

Mr. Sung nods, “I got it Hao, Hanbin get these ladies whatever they want, on the house.”

“Are you sure Uncle Jihoon?”

The man nods again, “Absolutely, we’re family, I could never charge family. Just make sure next time you visit you bring some of your mom’s jjimdak.”

Jihye nods as the man went back into the stall to help, Hanbin immediately looks back at the two, “So what do you guys want?”

Jihye looks at Chaewon and is shocked when she sees the girl looking at her angrily. She clears her throat, “What do you want?”

“Fries,” Chaewon said curtly.

Jihye looks at Hanbin who is trying not to laugh, “Got it, Hye I’ll just get you what you like and some waters. You can go sit at the tables, I'll bring it to you.”

Jihye nods as she heads to the table with Chaewon. Once they sit down Jihye looks at her expectantly, when she doesn’t say anything she winces, “Did I do something?”

“Why’d you just call me a friend?”

“What?”

“In front of Mr. Sung, you called me a friend. Are we not on a date right now?”

Jihye furrows her eyebrows, “Didn’t you say you didn’t want anyone to know about us? Isn’t that why we’re three hours away from Seoul, so no one could recognize us.”

Chaewon’s jaw clenches, Jihye was right. “I meant that for when there’s people from school.”

“Oh, but you’re also not my girlfriend…”

“But I’m not your friend.”

“So…what should I say?”

“Just say yes.”

“Okay.”

Chaewon smiles as Hanbin comes with their food. As Jihye begins to eat she looks at Chaewon who just stares at her. “Are you seriously not going to eat,” Jihye asks.

“I’m still upset, meaning you have to feed me.”

Jihye scoffs before holding up a fry to Chaewon’s mouth, which she happily eats.

“So, how do you know them?”

Jihye swallows what she has as she raises another fry for Chaewon, “There was a group of us, we all lived on the same street. Only one of us had a TV at the time, however she only came here during the summer so a lot of our time was spent outside playing stupid games. The group was called the ‘Andong-gang’ or ‘Angang’ for short. Due to us being so close our families naturally became close.”

Chaewon nods as she brings Jihye’s hand closer to her to take a bite of her food. Ignoring her stare of disbelief she speaks, “That’s kinda cute, I never had that type of experience. Yizhuo, Minjeong, and Aeri came when my parents made business deals.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Chaewon takes a second to think, did it bother her? She thinks for another moment before speaking, “Not really, we’re pretty close despite everything and we’ll always be because of our parents.”

Jihye nods as she holds up her food for Chaewon to take another bite from.

Once they finish and throw out their stuff Jihye looks at Chaewon, “Where to now, Princess Chaewon?”

“Princess? I like that.”

“Of course you do.”

“I want you to win me a bear.”

Jihye stares down at her, “You know those games are rigged right?”

Chaewon shrugs, “And?”

The taller girl laughs as she holds her hand out for the other, “Let’s go get you your rigged bear.”

Taking her hand the two girls head towards the game section of the festival.

A chill overtakes the town as the sun finally sets, leaving Chaewon shivering slightly. Due to her “bad bitches don’t get cold” motto she had refused to bring a jacket. She tries hiding each shiver as they look for a game to play, but it didn’t really matter, Jihye was always too observant. She stops in the middle of the crowded walkway and sighs, “I told you to bring a jacket.”

She has heard this a million times, Yena would say this before throwing her a jacket and walking away leaving Chaewon to try and catch up, while Yeonjun would simply shake his head and ignore her teeth chattering. Chaewon wonders which one Jihye will be like, but much to her surprise Jihye simply clicks her teeth before gently placing her letterman over her shoulders. “Should I always keep a jacket with me or do you only not bring jackets when you’re told you should?”

Chaewon can only stare at the girl as people walk around them, a new emotion rising in her chest, one that made her want to hold onto the girl and never let go. This new emotion was dangerous as Chaewon never expected to feel this way, especially this fast.

Jihye tilts her head to the side, “You okay?”

Chaewon simply nods as she slips both her arms in the jacket's sleeve, warmth immediately encompassing her. The smell of Jihye, almond and cashmere, immediately overtake her senses, making her desire to latch onto the girl grow. She had no doubt in her mind that this would now be her new favorite jacket.

Deciding not to confuse the girl anymore she grips onto the girl's arm, and rests her head on her bicep. “Let’s play this game and go.”

“No ferris wheel?”

Chaewon just shakes her head against her arm, causing Jihye to smile in response.

After walking around for a bit more they finally find a game Jihye thinks she can win, one that luckily no one else seems to notice.

The game worker gasps loudly when the girls arrived, “Jihye?”

“Haewon?”

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you.”

Separating from Chaewon, Jihye leans over to hug the girl, which earns them both a harsh glare.

“What brings you back here?”

“The festival.”

Chaewon wants to add the fact that she was more specifically here on a date with her, but decides to wait to see how this Haewon girl interacts with Jihye.

“That’s cool, we’ve missed you around here, it's not the same without you and Yujin.”

Jihye pouts slightly, “I miss you guys too, I definitely plan to come see you guys again soon though.”

Chaewon feels her eye twitch when Haewon smiles widely at that.

“Good, when are you leaving? We should hang before you go.”

“Tomorrow, sadly.”

Haewon frowns at that, “Let’s exchange numbers then.”

Jihye nods excitedly, “Absolutely, wait until I tell Yujin about seeing you.”

After exchanging numbers, much to Chaewon’s annoyance, Haewon finally asks Jihye if she wants to play. Not allowing the girl to pay because “Angang for life” or whatever, Jihye tries. She of course fails each try, after all the games are rigged. After failing a number of times Jihye looks defeated. Chaewon of course finds it cute, but before she can comfort her a huge stuffed bear comes between them.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you walk away without it did you?”

Fucking Haewon.

Jihye knows she must be an interesting sight as she walks towards her old house. Due to Chaewon being upset again she demanded she give her a piggyback ride back, so here she was walking the streets of her old hometown with a huge stuffed animal in her arms and Chaewon on her back.

“Chae, you really don’t want to walk?”

“That’s not my name.”

Jihye furrows her eyebrows, “Chaewon?”

“No.”

Jihye sighs, “Then what is your name?”

“Princess.”

Jihye stops in her tracks and scoffs, “Seriously?”

She feels the girl nod against her back, “Yes, now ask me again with my name.”

Jihye sighs, “Princess, do you really not want to walk?”

“No.”

Jihye groans as she starts to walk again.

“What are you groaning for, I’m not even heavy.”

Jihye immediately agrees, “You’re not, but I’m also holding your massive fur child and we are about 5 minutes away from the house still.”

Chaewon smacks her teeth, “I bet if it was Haewon you wouldn’t have complained.”

“Haewon?”

Jihye stays silent as she thinks back to her interaction with the girl mentioned, she stops when it hits her. She crouches down slightly so Chaewon’s feet will touch the ground before turning to her. Before Chaewon can complain Jihye speaks, “You’re easy to get jealous.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes, “And?”

“It’s cute.”

Chaewon glares at her before pushing her, mostly the bear, and walking away.

Giving her a few seconds to mope she then jogs to her side, moving the bear to one side of her body she grabs Chaewon’s hand with her free one. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

Chaewon doesn’t bother with a response, which Jihye takes as a sign to continue, “I did, I got to go out with the girl I’ve liked since freshman year.”

This causes Chaewon to pause to look at her, “You’ve liked me since freshman year?”

Jihye nods, which causes the shorter girl to lightly push her, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Maybe because you didn’t know I existed until this year.”

“You still could’ve confessed to me, people do it all the time.”

“Yeah, but those people aren't what your friends dubbed as the ‘biggest loser in school.’”

Chaewon frowns at that, “I don’t think you’re a loser.”

Jihye looks at her with doubt, “Yes you do, that’s why we’re currently three hours from Seoul. Not that I mind.”

The statement causes Chaewon to look down, which then causes Jihye to sigh, “What I was trying to say is, I don’t like Haewon and she definitely doesn’t like me. Even if she did, I’ve been waiting since ninth grade for you to even look at me, and now that I’m here with you no girl is going to change that.”

Chaewon looks up with a wide smile, “You’re such a smooth talker, you better not be talking to any other girls like this.”

Jihye laughs, “Of course not, now can we finally get to the house?”

The shorter girl nods and starts to walk, swinging her and Jihye’s interlocked hands.

When they finally get into the house, the girls take off their shoes and replace them with slippers.

Jihye starts to lead them through the house, while they are walking Chaewon looks at the pictures decorating the wall, when she sees one she immediately stops causing Jihye, who is still holding her hand, to be yanked back.

“Jihye, whose house is this?”

Moving to be next to her, “My grandma’s, or well my old house, why?”

Chaewon immediately starts to hit the girl's shoulder, “You brought me to your childhood home, where your grandma lives without telling me?”

The taller girl, currently wincing, nods.

“Are you insane,” Chaewon exclaims in a low tone.

“What’s wrong?”

“If I knew I was going to meet one of your family members I would’ve brought something way nicer to wear tomorrow like my Chanel two piece.”

Jihye looks at her amused, “Chaewon, my grandma is a seventy year old woman from the countryside, she would not care if you showed up in Chanel. I didn’t realize it could make you feel uncomfortable, which I apologize for, so if it makes you feel better I’ll tell my grandma to be out when you wake up.”

This earns her another slap to her shoulder, “Are you crazy? What would I look like asking your grandmother to leave her house? It’s fine, I’ll meet your grandmother tomorrow.”

Shaking her head Jihye simply leads them to a couple doors, she points to the one of the right, “This is my old room,” she then points to the one on the left, “That’s the guest room, it was originally my parents room but my grandma converted it to a guest for when we visit. That’s where you’ll be sleeping.”

Chaewon looks at her confused, “I’m not staying in the same room with you?”

Jihye looks at her in shock, “I never slept with a girl on a first date.”

“You went on dates with other girls?”

“I know you meant that possessively,” Jihye says with a pout, “But that sounded like you were insulting me.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes, “Where's the bathroom so I can get ready for bed?”

Jihye leads her to the bathroom, “You’re lucky my grandma just got a new water boiler, you ever have to wait for water to boil on a stove?”

Not giving her a chance to respond, Jihye closes the door and lets the girl get ready.

Once she finishes Jihye quickly replaces her to get ready for bed, when she finishes Chaewon is already in the guest room laying down, Jihye peeks her head in, “Just wanted to say goodnight.”

Looking up from her phone, which had died earlier in the day, Chaewon tells her goodnight back.

When Jihye slides into her own bed, she immediately feels herself drifting to sleep, trying to fight it, she quickly texts her friends and family a small update and that she’ll see them tomorrow. Starting to drift off, she jolts awake when she hears her door open.

“Chaewon?”

She doesn’t get a response instead the shorter girl slides in next to her, wraps an arm around her waist and lays her head on her chest.

Jihye simply wraps her own arm around the girl and finally lets sleep overtake her.

When Chaewon wakes up, she’s a bit confused as she takes in the unfamiliar setting. It takes a few moments for her brain to remember where exactly she is, once she remembers she immediately notices that Jihye is no longer next to her. As she sits up to stretch she decides to take in the room, the first thing she notices are the two different themes. While one was more plain, the other, the side she was currently on, held posters to various cartoons, a desk with a notebook that was open, which Chaewon would later discovered had a robot sketch on it, and bright red bed sheets.

Deciding shes done enough snooping she gets up, as she opens the door she hears talking from the front of the house. She quietly heads back into the guest room to grab her bag and now fully charged phone. Quickly getting ready Chaewon drops her bag off in the guest room and heads to the front of the house where she sees Jihye sitting at a table, talking to an older woman who was cooking in a kitchen, their conversation slightly hard for her to follow due to their shared dialect.

When Jihye spots her she immediately lights up, standing she walks towards her, “Good morning.”

Chaewon quickly leans on the girl and mumbles a small good morning back.

They are interrupted by someone clearing their throat, which causes Chaewon to immediately separate them as she remembers who Jihye was just previously talking to.

Not giving Chaewon a chance to put too much distance between them Jihye grabs her hand and smiles at her grandma.

“And who is this pretty girl in my house?”

“This is Chaewon.”

The cheerleader feels nervous as Jihye’s grandmother studies her. Once she’s finished she smiles, Chaewon immediately seeing the charming Yoo family smile, “You have good taste hyehye, shes pretty.”

Jihye’s smile gets impossibly wider as she nods her head agreeing. The older lady points to the table, “Sit, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Jihye pulls the girl to her side of the table, and immediately pulls out the seat for Chaewon. Once Chaewon sits she pushes it in for her, and then goes to help her grandma bring over any remaining dishes.

When every dish is brought over she pulls out a chair for her grandmother and then goes to sit next to Chaewon.

They both start to eat once the older lady had grabbed the first piece.

Chaewon eyes immediately open wide when the food hits her tongue, this was by far the best food she had ever tried. Sure she had eaten at five star restaurants and had food prepared by world famous chefs, but nothing had come close to this. Nothing had this much obvious care in it.

“So, Chaewon, did you like the festival,” Jihye’s grandmother asked.

Chaewon nods, “Yes, it was absolutely beautiful Ms. Yoo.”

Jihye’s grandmother immediately waves her off, “Please, call me Grandma Yoo, Ms just makes me sound old.”

“You are old, grandma.”

The older woman simply ignores her, “I remember when that festival was smaller Hye and I would make necklaces and sell them there.”

Chaewon turns to the girl in shock, “You used to work there?”

Jihye nods as she swallows her food, “When I was way younger, but we had to stop when grandma's joints got bad.”

“And then she started to make robots, which I’m still waiting for my gardener robot.”

Jihye just shakes her head as she places some more food on Chaewon’s plate.

Before Chaewon can stop her, not wanting the girl's grandmother to think she was incapable of doing simple tasks, her grandmother speaks again, “Have you taken her to see the bridge?”

“No, I was planning to take her before we leave.”

“You should’ve taken her last night, it’s pretty at night.”

Jihye nods, “I will next time.”

Chaewon feels her heart flutter at the thought of there being a next time.

“Good, now eat up so you guys can be on the road early.”

The rest of breakfast, more so lunch, went on with Jihye’s grandmother telling her stories of Jihye’s childhood. Once they finish, Jihye helps her grandmother clean up as Chaewon collects all her things. When she finishes she heads back to the front of the house where she sees Jihye and her grandmother splashing water on each other. When they finish playing Jihye mops it up, even though she had made the least of the mess between the two, while her grandmother heads off somewhere else in the house.

When she sees Chaewon she walks over to her, “You got everything?”

Chaewon nods, which causes Jihye to grab her bag for her. Her grandmother then comes back with a few bags clearly full, “Some mandarins and oranges from my garden. Also, some food for the road.”

She hands a couple of bags to Jihye and couple to Chaewon, immediately receiving a thanks from both.

Both girls say their goodbyes, her grandmother hugging the both of them, much to Chaewon’s surprise. As Jihye went to put the bag in her trunk, Jihye’s grandmother calls for Chaewon, “Don’t be a stranger, you’re welcome any time.” That simple phrase makes Chaewon tear up as she nods before heading to the car.

When Jihye notices the girl is teary eyed the smile drops from her face, “What’s wrong?”

Chaewon simply shakes her head as she hugs the girl, how could she possibly explain she has never felt more cared for her entire life, and this was just a first date.

After spending a few minutes recomposing herself she steps back to look at Jihye, who is visibly concerned, “I’m fine, let's go see that bridge.”

Jihye isn’t fully convinced though, “Are you sure? I can just bring you back home now.”

“I’m sure.”

That is all Jihye needs as she nods and pulls away from the girl to open the door for her.

As Chaewon buckles in, Jihye gets in and does the same. After getting them en route to the bridge the girl grabs Chaewon’s hand, this time, without her needing to ask.

Jihye quietly groans as Chaewon moves into another pose.

Once they had arrived at the bridge Chaewon had gasped at how beautiful everything was. They had walked a bit of it before Chaewon started to ask for Jihye to take pictures of her, which Jihye had of course said yes to. However, a few pictures had turned into stopping every two seconds to take more.

“Chae, do you really need these many?”

“Not my name and yes, I do.”

Jihye shakes her head and continues taking pictures for her, until a text comes in. The taller girl had prided herself in not being someone who gets jealous easily, however she couldn’t stop her jaw from clenching as she stands up.

“What are you doing? I’m not done.”

Jihye just hands the girl’s phone back to her, “Yeonjun texted you,” and begins to walk the rest of the bridge, Chaewon following closely behind her.

She hears Chaewon groan loudly behind her, “We have to go, Yeonjun just got posted on that Kwangya page again.”

“Of course he did,” Jihye mutters to herself.

Too busy texting people to try and fix the issue, she doesn’t notice Jihye’s change in mood.

When they reach the car Jihye opens the door for Chaewon as she usually does, once the cheerleader gets in she immediately starts texting with one hand as she moves her left hand to the center with her palm up.

After a few moments of Jihye driving, Chaewon notices her hand is still empty. Tearing her eyes from the phone, she looks at Jihye with a confused look, “What are you doing?”

“Driving.”

“No duh smartass, I meant,” she shakes her left hand.

Jihye doesn’t respond, instead pulls into a gas station, “I have to get gas, then we’ll go.” She doesn’t wait for Chaewon to say anything as she turns the car off and gets out.

When she comes back Chaewon’s window had been rolled down and she was now resting her head on the door. Once Jihye pulls the latch so the gas can pump itself Chaewon waves her over. When she stands in front of the door Chaewon loosely grabs her hand and begins tracing over the ring softly, her letterman, or Chaewon’s now, covering the tips of her fingers where Chaewon holds.

“What’s wrong with you,” Chaewon asks softly.

Jihye bites her bottom lip, “Do you have to fake date him?”

It finally hits Chaewon, Jihye is jealous, “Yeonjun will inherit his father’s business in the future,” Chaewon starts, “Due to this, his father believes he should be doing things such as writing, reading, math, and other stuff like that, not soccer. So, as long as he’s “dating” me, the soccer team gets funding.”

“But what do you gain from it,” Jihye questions.

“A prom queen title.”

Jihye nods, before separating them to finish pumping gas, when she gets in the car Chaewon looks at her, “You feeling better?”

Jihye nods, “Sorry.”

Chaewon smiles, “It’s okay, I like that you get jealous over me already. Now let's go.”

As Jihye starts up the car Chaewon catches a glimpse of something in the rearview mirror making her look back immediately, “Did you buckle in the teddy bear?”

Jihye just laughs as she pulls out the lot.

The rest of the drive goes off without a hitch, the two girls sing loudly to songs that play, and Chaewon feeds Jihye some mandarins.

When they get close to Seoul, Chaewon feels a wave of disappointment wash over her. She didn’t want this to end, she had never felt happier in her life. As they get closer to her house she grips tighter on to Jihye’s hand, once they reach her house Jihye has lost complete feeling in it.

They sit in silence once Jihye turns the car off. When Chaewon finally nods her head, Jihye gets out and grabs her bag from the trunk and the bear from the backseat.

By the time she makes it back to Chaewon’s door, Chaewon is standing in front of it, the bags of food given to her by the other’s grandma in her hand.

“Come on, I’ll carry this stuff to the door.”

When they get closer to the door, it opens revealing Eunchae.

“Ooo, is this bear for me?”

“As if, you touch it, you die.”

Eunchae scoffs, “Hi Jihye, let me help you with that stuff.”

Jihye nods, and the youngest purposely grabs the bear first, sticking her tongue out at her older sister. She then grabs the overnight bag from her hand, “Did you get me anything?”

Chaewon nods which causes the girl to exclaim and leave the two girls by the front door.

Jihye then turns to her and smiles softly, “I hope you had a good time.”

“I did, that was the best date I ever had,” Chaewon confirms.

“Good.”

The two stand there, both clearly not wanting to leave.

“Chae-”

“Ji-”

“Sorry, you go first,” the cheerleader says.

Jihye just shakes her head lightly, “I should go, my family might worry soon.”

Chaewon pouts before pulling the girl into a tight hug, she then gets on her tiptoes to kiss the girl on her cheek. “Text me when you get home.”

Jihye nods, a blush now painting her face. She turns around and heads to her car, once in she gestures for Chaewon to go inside. Listening, Chaewon waves one last time, and closes the door once inside. When she hears the car drive away she can’t help but smile widely.

“You look dumb.”

“Shut up Eunchae.”

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[friendlylocalwhumper]

He’s so small. Bigger than he used to be, his shoulders broader with muscle, but he’s still so small when he curls up on the floor. Shivering, all those old scars on display… the Hunter crouches, groaning in complaint at his sore knees taking his weight, and lays a hand on the back that trembles with every sobbing exhale.

“You’re so different, these days,” Praises the torturer. His palm runs warmly down the spine that was once so knobbly, but now is mostly shielded by muscle. “Your name almost doesn’t suit you anymore, little light.”

Those words pull a shudder from under goosebump-riddled skin. Lux draws his knees up closer to his stomach, buries his head better under folded arms.

“Remember back in the first week, when you cursed at me? Pulled against the chains, kicked at my legs…” The Hunter wraps a hand around Lux’s arm to unfold it and pull it behind him. Inspecting the shape of it, he finds more meat there than there used to be. He remembers a boy who was skin and bones. Beneath purple splotches, muscles twitch with the aborted need to pull away. “You dared me to break this arm. So I did.”

“S-sometimes… I wonder, what… wha-, what I would’ve been like. If you didn’t change me.”

The words with actual meaning behind them surprise a laugh out of the killer. He rubs that heavily scarred back fondly. The sensory input of tall, ridged whip scars under his calloused palms feels deeply sentimental. “You would’ve been dead by now, sweet boy.”

The prone man tenses up, then tries to relax, aware that pulling away is almost never the right move here. “You were someone’s sweet boy, too.”

The roar of rage above and behind him is enough of a warning before his arm is lifted at an uncomfortable angle, gripped tight, and then wrenched unnaturally beyond its breaking point. It’s happened a hundred times. Lux convulses, a scream tearing from his throat hard enough that he imagines it draws blood. His legs twist for purchase, his chest heaves for air, his back arches to try to escape the pressure that is bearing down to force the snapped arm to bend farther than it should be able to.

It’s never bearable, but Lux gasps into relative silence soon. Shivers wrack his frame as his mind catches up to familiar agony. He blinks beads of sweat from his eyes and sucks down air greedily. The whimpers that fall from his lips haven’t made him feel truly ashamed in so many years.

“It’s been a while,” Seethes the Hunter, “but I know you remember how to be good.”

Fingers at his temple. Lux whines, panicked, twisting enough to make his arm crunch further out of place, just to try to get away. In the end the Hunter’s hand easily follows, and presses to that temple, and magic is thrust into his mind.

Lux has walls up, good solid walls, but they crack under the punishing barrage of the Hunter’s furious magic. He, too, has practiced over the years, and it’s so much easier to attack with mind magic than to defend with it. You don’t have to spend energy protecting memories and fighting through pain, when you’re attacking.

“No, you know what?” Thinks the Hunter, in Lux’s mind, and then he’s back out before he even makes his way past those defenses. Lux gasps, blinking rapidly, startled sobbing gasps lurching out of him as the pressure in his skull lessens and leaves a throbbing, unbearable headache in its wake.

And then there’s pressure around his neck. Familiar, too warm - weight on his hip to turn him until he’s flat on his back, teary blue eyes blinking in shock up at the Hunter. The sight of graying hair, a slightly longer beard, teeth bared in rage blurs as fresh tears well up and spill into his hair. Those hands wrap across his throat like he was created for this. To be punished. Lux tries to twist, to look anywhere else, to drag himself free of the weight atop him… but it’s too late, it’s always too late by the point that his lungs start to burn with the need for oxygen.

The Hunter’s hungry eyes flit from his crushed throat, to his own hands flexing and bearing down, to the spilling tears, to Lux’s lips pulled taut to bare his teeth. “I can make you good, you’ll be good again when I’m done,” He promises with renewed fervor. “Why did you have to push it, my light? Why are you making me do this again?”

The threat earns a new depth of terror from the pinned warlock. His freshly broken arm even tries to move, twitching toward the Hunter’s leg.

“You could’ve gotten out with just a beating, just a reminder. But I have to break you again, don’t I? So you learn your lesson. You will never, never say something like that to me again.”

Lux tries to shake his head, heels kicking frantically across the concrete floor. His less broken arm is lifted, nails digging into the Hunter’s wrist, but that is being ignored entirely. His face is going purple, feels like it is radiating heat, and it starts to feel like the hard floor beneath him is turning into clouds. His control, his consciousness is slipping. And as he falls, falls, with lungs full of fire, his skull feels like it’s being broken open. The two hands crushing around his throat have changed to one hand, shifting to the center and shoving up under his jaw, making sure not even the weakest gasp is possible - and the Hunter’s other hand has come up to Lux’s temple, slamming magic in against defenses that have gone transparent and wobbly. The magic slices straight through.

In the split second before he gives a last, feeble jutter and falls limp, vision fading to black and his own muffled choking drowning out under the sound of blood rushing in his ears, Lux sees precious memories flashing in his mind and scrambling. Confusing - visions of his love and his daughter and old, dear friends flashing in random order. A deep sense of hopeless dread comes before the fall into an abyss of feeling absolutely nothing, his body going numb and merciful darkness claiming him.

[thesassypadawan]

Toyland (Stephen x FemReader) *Blurb*

Summary:  You’ve been good all December long, hoping that your daddy would shower you with all the toys on your wish list.  Make it a truly magical and memorable Christmas Eve for you.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut.  Bit of a dom nerd, fun toys, special ‘playtime’, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track four of my special holiday mix, Toyland! ❤️💚

- All too familiar feeling tug, pull at the pit of your stomach.  Growing stronger and more feverish as you slip that naughty, buzzing device between your soaked folds.  Further still until it plunges into, stretches your velvety walls.  Excited, elated giggles bubbling and spilling out from around your bright red ball…gag.

- “Like your new toys, angel?”  Perched, lounging on the plush couch.  Stephen smiles smugly, knowingly over the rim of his coffee mug.  “Of course you do.”  Watching with keen interest while you wriggle and writhe on the rug, in front of the tree.  “My little slut loves it when both her stockings get stuffed extra full.”  How you squirm and kick your legs happily when…

- Clicking the tiny remote twice…high-pitched, muffled squeals echo off the living room walls in response.  The vibrations in both your greedy holes becoming greater, so powerful that the humming practically rings in your ears.  Makes your teeth chatter, brain go a tiny bit dumb.  Toes curl ever so slightly.

- “That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckles, hint of condescension in his tone.  Taking one last long sip, he sets aside his drink.  Leaning forward, looming above you.  Free hand winding and encircling his big cock.  “Now why don’t you be a good girl.”  Pumping it slowly…fat tip an angry red, glistening with snowy beads of pre oozing from the slit.  “Show daddy how much you enjoy them.”

- Eagerly you obey, fingers fumbling.  Clumsily sinking your plaything in and out of your cunny.  Thumb sloppily circling and teasing your throbbing nub.  “Go on…”  Hips twitching and rocking in time with his steady strokes; your choppy, uneven thrusts.  Desperately trying to get it to drive deeper, to kiss and bruise your aching cervix.  “Let me see…”

- Another two clicks and your eyes start to roll, vison filling with blinding stars and fading to white.  Back arching slightly off the floor, thick thighs trembling.  “Come, sweetheart…”  From the overwhelming pleasure that shoots up your spine.  The effort and strain of your bouncing body, supporting your burdening weight.  The intensity of Stephen’s hungry gaze.  “Make a nice, big mess…”

- Chest rises and falls frantically.  Shallow, deep breaths and pants escape through your nose.  Teeth biting into, leaving faint impressions in the ball gag; taste of rubber, along with all those sweets you gobbled up earlier, flooding your mouth.  “Maybe then I’ll let you open, use another present…” 

- The coil inside you is so tight, the heat stifling.  Holes flutter and clench like crazy at the sound of rapid, wet slaps.  The symphony of gruff moans, low snarls.  “One that I’m sure…”     Slick trickles down your plump bottom, dripping onto the pile of strewn pieces of festive wrapping and bows beneath.  Mixing and mingling with his juices, to create a jolly cocktail.  “My babe will love even better…”

- Yet again he clicks twice.  Causing you to scream and cry quietly in joy all because…  You're spending a truly magical and memorable Christmas Eve.  Exactly how you wanted…  Spoiled rotten by your dotting daddy…  Surrounded, dwelling in your own personal Toyland…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @fuckmyskywalker, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @anakinstwinklebunny, @xhunnybeeex

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou

[bitebitekxll]

Kinktober ‘24 || Day 2

NSFW || MDNI

public humiliation | cum inflation | priest kink

Priest!Cyno x AMAB!reader

Notes: I SPENT THE ENTIRE MONTH JUST TRYING TO WRITE THIS. Idk WHY I got stuck on it so badly, but it’s finally here. The next one will not take as long I promise I’ve already gotten half of it written (tho there’s no telling if it’ll still be this year by the time I finish this year’s kinktober)

CW: NONCON/DUBCON. Whether you see this as reader having incubus thrall powers or not (it’s never specified) Cyno is clearly coerced and unable to escape after multiple attempts to pull away. Mind break/corruption I guess??

Masterlist . Kink list

So, AU where it’s still teyvat as we know it, but Cyno is a priest for Kusanali. I can’t imagine Cyno not being a fighter so let’s say he still enacts judgment on criminals as a hobby.

And everything is as it should be UNTIL he stumbles across a group attempting to summon a creature from the abyss. He deals with them, of course, but ends up accidentally spilling his blood on the ritual site, inadvertently binding himself to you.

Countless hours upon days upon weeks of searching for a solution prove fruitless. But when he realises that you can’t harm him or anyone else as long as you’re tied to him, he decides that for the safety of everyone he will bear the burden of your presence. You’re determined to prove this beloved priest isn’t as pure as he pretends to but to no avail. Wealth, power, cruelty, none of these things sway him from his duties.

Sure, bothering Cyno is always fun, but you start to tire of the same song and dance, of being little more than a nuisance. So you try the one thing you haven’t tempted him with yet: pleasure.

You catch him while he’s praying, wanting to take advantage of him on his knees. It’s easy to drape yourself over his back, to trace your palms down his chest while he tries to ignore your touch, whispering taunts in his ear.

He tries to grumble about your behaviour, but his words cut off with a sharp inhale as you slip his earlobe into your mouth. Your arm is a brand around his waist, too strong from him to successfully jerk away.

“I can make you feel so much better than your precious piety,” you purr, hooking a claw in his collar. It tears through the fabric like butter and, while you shove one thigh between both of his, you realise despite all his objections he’s rock hard.

He would glare at you after you slam his back onto the floor, snarl and try to fight while you pin him down. But all his strength is no match for an inhuman being like yourself.

“What are you trying to accomplish?” His ruby gaze looks up at you through snowy eyelashes. It would almost be pretty if not for the scowl that marred it. “The bond won’t allow you to harm me.”

“But it’s not harm if it feels good, is it?”

He looks gorgeous, wrists pinned by one of your hands above his head, hair disheveled and clothes torn open revealing his defined chest. With your free hand, you lightly circle the expanse of his neck, pondering what to do with him at your mercy.

He threatens you, tries to ward you off, but the second you get your fingers in mouth he goes still. You don’t even need to hold open his jaw— the man doesn’t even try to bite down.

For a man so proud, so stoic, he falls so quickly the second he gets a taste of the sin he’s been avoiding his whole life. Even gagging around your fingers, tears beading in the corner of his eyes, he’s limp and unwilling to fight back. Push down on his tongue and watch his eyes roll back into his head, grind down on him and he groans so prettily.

He looks even better once you replace your fingers with something bigger. The mere sight of your cock makes his eyes go glassy, gets him panting like a dog as you fist his hair, pulling him close. He doesn’t know what to do, that much is obvious, but it’s nothing some gentle encouragement can’t fix.

“Let me in baby, just like you did with my fingers,” you murmur, a sweet tone hiding how thoroughly you were planning to wreck him. Cyno tongues clumsily at your tip before letting it slip past his lips, slowly taking your length into his mouth.

Too slow, in fact.

He chokes as you slam into him, making him take you to the hilt. He cries around your cock, words muffled and barely intelligible— “Ngh♡~ ‘oo ‘ig~” —but you don’t let him move away as you start to fuck his throat without remorse.

He whines and his throat constricts around you, struggling to take it all, but he remains hard throughout. Eventually, he goes limp, hands curled into the material of your trousers as he accepts his position. Cyno can choke and cry but he can’t hide the fact he’s hard, his usual cold exterior stripped away and reduced to a wet, desperate mess. Even after you cum down his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he struggles to swallow everything, he still can’t get enough. Pulling away only leads to him whining, following you to close the distance once more. He babbles around your cock, words unintelligible, but his actions make it clear he refuses to be dragged away.

Such a pretty little priest just for you… how could you possibly resist stealing him away for yourself? It’s not like he’d be able to go back to his previous life after all, after such a hard fall into sin and depravity. The scattered thoughts in his head can barely come together and when they do, the only thought in his head is getting to be used by you.