#and even when they do everything “right” Tumblr posts

[theveryworstthing]

7th Headless Haunting: The Invisible Woman

A ghost's appearance can change over time depending on the emotional connection to their former lives. This change is involuntary and inconsistent. For some, their form shifts to mirror the cause of their death, or emphasizes some other lasting trauma. Others shift into a metaphorical representation of how they view themselves. But most just look like their living forms until time makes the details slip away. Because if there's no one left to remember them properly, and they can't really remember themselves, that can trigger a disconnection from their physical past. This disconnect causes the "sheet ghost" effect, as the soul loses the shape of its previous container.

It's a sad thing, catching a glimpse of a soul losing their face. But that's part of the cycle of life and death. Everything changes. Everything fades.

Sometimes that fading is even done on purpose.

Morgan doesn't call herself Morgan anymore because she doesn't want to metaphysically dox herself.

Through the efforts of the most annoying woman she's ever met, she's become one of the most famous ghosts in the south. She did not ask for this, she does not want it, and every day she wonders how she could have possibly been charmed into a barely 3 week relationship by someone she had to politely ask to stop making tictoks in the crystal shop constantly. It was easy to blame grief and depression for the drastic lowering of standards but still. Good lord.

She realized her mistake pretty quickly, but then "Luna's" roommate supposedly kicked her out with no warning and a sick cat named Quartz. And past!Morgan, who vividly remembered how much being homeless sucked, didn't want her out on the street.

(Okay, mostly she didn't want Quartz out on the street. He was goofy and sweet and the knowledge that she liked him way more than her new girlfriend made her feel guilty.)

This was a mistake.

She opened her home to them. Payed for emergency cat surgery. Dealt with arguments over filming in the house and random strangers coming over for "guided group spiritual exploration" sessions that she wasn't allowed to be in the room for because Luna was "working". Scrubbed Luna's essential oil covered bare ass marks off of her kitchen counters. And in return, she got this woman inviting something into her home.

One night while Luna was out with friends, it came into Morgan's bedroom and left her head on the other side of the house.

She never figured out exactly what got her, but the dark twisted shape made sure to find her terrified spirit before it left, and she could feel its irritation as it inspected her. She wasn't the right target. Luna owed a dept that she probably didn't even comprehend to something very pissed off.

All this would have been bad enough, but none of it was really worth being a ghost about. She'd had worse relationships, and since grandma was gone, almost all of her loved ones were dead anyway, so she really should have left.

But what about Quartz?

 She was the one handling all of his post operative care, and after watching Luna forget time after time to feed him or give him his meds or even really pay attention to him when he wasn't serving as a cuddly toy to cry on or an aesthetic set piece for videos, she decided to hang around until he was either stable or dead.

Which is how she found out about the haunted house tours.

Luna had been doing this for a while. It seems that every place she had ever lived was "haunted" and she made sure that the internet knew about all the trials and tribulations of being so spiritually gifted in a world filled with such trauma laden souls. She'd been kicked out of her last place for having a pretend spectral affair with her former roommate's dead best friend, and when she moved it didn't take a day for her to "sense something..." and start secretly profiting off of made up shit about Morgan's grandmother.

But now that Morgan was dead she had a goldmine on her hands. The gory, violent, locked room mystery death of a fairly attractive woman wearing nothing but a low cut night gown was already pretty good, but add in the lesbian romance, Morgan's family history, and the fact that Luna's True Love had recently Saved her from an Abusive Environment and Certain Homelessness? Well, that's money baby.

Morgan's friends, bless 'em, had stopped Luna from livestreaming the funeral, and got as many pictures of her body taken down as they could.

Sadly, the fundraiser to purchase her family home for "spiritual conservation" was successful.

She had no idea that her following was that big.

She really should have checked.

Anyway.

Because of Luna she's spent the last 8 years being stalked by the living. Strangers pay to sleep in her bed and record the ambient noises of her room hoping she'll show up and talk to them. They buy books made of private poetry stolen from her journals. They demonize her dead family members and speculate on horrific abuse that didn't happen because "if you pay attention to how she dressed/read between the lines in her writing, there are clues she had serious daddy issues".

Recently, there was a shitty romance novel published based on her death, implying that whatever killed her was simply mad with lust and wanted to make her his dark bride in hell.

Yes "his". Her proxy was straight in that one.

And way slimmer.

That's a reoccurring thing that she tries not to think about too hard.

But the point is that all this mess keeps her from moving on. She just... can't. She spends all her time trying to sabotage Luna's grift as best she can. She exposes all the little tricks Luna uses during her seances to show she's not talking to anyone. She actively keeps other spirits away from the house just in case any of the ghost hunting gear people haul into her living room actually works (it doesn't but better safe that sorry). She never speaks just in case a recording picks something up and she's thrown away chunks of identifying features like her face and most of her tattoos so that if she is spotted, she's harder to identify.

She's spent years staging the most intensive anti-haunting she possibly can.

Quartz died 6 months ago and walked right past the entrance to the rainbow bridge to settle in her lap, just like old times. He tries to lead her away from the house a lot. Into the sunrise, towards her grandma's loud bright laughter and the bustling sounds of a family reunion in full swing.

She wants to follow him so badly.

She just.

Can't.

[innerfare]

You Just Do It Better 

Summary: There are some things that are better left to you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:  

When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better. 

Zoro: 

Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better. 

Sanji: 

Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better. 

Ace: 

It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better. 

Sabo: 

You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better. 

Law: 

You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better. 

Kid: 

Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[youreverydayfangirl]

ENDGAME

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where new beginnings are made, a second championship is one and she allows herself to fall

warning: self doubt

a/n: hey guyssss

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 20 others

y/nsprivate BACK IN THE STUDIO

jimmyandsassysdad when she writes songs about you>>

-> y/nsprivate STOP YOUR SO CUTE

livbereallydumb NEW MUSIC???

-> y/nsprivate new beginnings.

thatoneartgirlalex this new album is gonna hit so hard

-> y/nsprivate dont you know it babes

-----

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 25 others

y/nsprivate hes actually gorgeous omg

leosfather THE ARMS 🥵

-> y/nsprivate pack it up leclerc

keekslikestospamm CAUGHT Y/N THIRSTING 🫵

-> y/nsprivate EVERYDAY OF THE WEEK EVERYWHERE

livbereallydumb if gizmo likes him i like him

-> y/nsprivate dont we know it

thatoneartgirlalex he better treat you well

-> y/nsprivate he does dont worry ❤️

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

Y/n’s screen lit up, and her heart did a small flip at the sight of Max’s name. She swiped to answer, and his face filled her screen, looking more tense than usual, his hair a bit messy as he ran a hand through it.

“Hey, champ,” she greeted with a gentle smile, trying to ease the tension she saw in his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Max managed a small smile back, but it was laced with nerves. “Tomorrow’s just… it’s everything, you know? I can’t think straight.” He paused, exhaling, his eyes darting down as if ashamed. “I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’ve never felt this... tense.”

Y/n’s expression softened. “It’s all riding on tomorrow, huh?”

He nodded, a faint flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. “If I mess it up… after everything…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away for a moment. “I want this more than anything, but it’s like every thought I have is just making it worse.”

She tilted her head, voice gentle. “Max, you’ve been incredible all season. Everyone can see how much you’ve given, but right now… it’s okay to be nervous. It just means you care.”

His eyes met hers, searching, almost as if he wanted to believe her. “But what if I fail?”

She sighed softly, offering him a warm smile. “Then you get back up and try again, just like you always do. And no matter what, I'm by your side, I promise”

He gave a small nod, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Thank you, Schatje. I just… I needed to hear that.”

She grinned, voice playful. “Of course, and besides, when you win tomorrow, I can say that you were calling me the night before all cute and nervous”

Max chuckled, some of the tension leaving his expression. “If I win tomorrow, the first call I’m making is to you.”

“Good,” she replied, giving him a reassuring look. “Because I’ll be here, cheering you on. Now, get some rest, champ. You’re going to be amazing.”

For the first time, he looked like he believed her. “Thanks, Y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the light from her phone flickered off, Y/n looked at the dark interior of the hotel room she was currently in, The only glow came from the Abu Dhabi cityscape beyond her window, casting a soft, hazy light across the room.

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

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 25 others

y/nsprivate changed it up guys - ill always be a ferrari girl at heart

leosfather NO TRAITOR

-> y/nsprivate ITS FOR A GOOD CAUSE

jimmyandsassysdad never gonna understand how i got so lucky

-> y/nsprivate aww i love you

-> y/jimmyandsassysdad being world champion <<having you

-> y/nsprivate aww i love you 😭😭

-> leosfather CAP

-> y/nsprivate I HATE YOU

keekslikestospamm Y/N OMFG

-> y/nsprivate 🤷

thatoneartgirlalex NEVER SEEN YOU IN ANYTHING BUT RED BABES

-> y/nsprivate red girl at heart always❤️

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

"Y/nn." Y/ns head spun around to see where Alex was standing at the gate, coming to let her in. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she made her way over to meet Alex. She hadn't told Max she was coming, she wanted it to be a surprise if he won. The buzz of the paddock was electric, the air charged with energy, and everywhere she turned, familiar faces were moving through the crow. Y/n moved her cap lower and adjusted her sunglasses. More so for her comfort.

Alex grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug. "Kika is somewhere around, I think Pierre is running a little late." Y/n nodded uncomfortable, the tension in her body high. "Hey." Alex said, drawing Y/ns attention back to her. "Everythings fine okay, and think about the look on Max's face when he sees you."

Y/n gave her a grateful smile but was still nervous. As hard as Max had been fighting, Lando had crawled his way up the standings and it was a fight to the death.

The pair made it to the familiar garage, and Y/n felt the tension leave her body at the comfort it brought her. A few paces ahead, she spotted Charles chatting with some mechanics, throwing her a quick grin when he noticed her. After he finished what he was saying, he made his way over to the girls, planting a quick kiss on Alex's cheek.

“Nice disguise,” Charles teased, noticing her cap and sunglasses. “Max will be thrilled when he sees you.” He pulled her into a quick hug before running back off the his mechanics.

The two girls made their way over to the Alpine garage where Kika had just arrived. She was muttering something in portuguese when her eyes locked on the girls.

"Never on time." She said rolling her eyes as she pulled the pair into a hug. All three of them laughed at that.

As the three girls engaged in conversation, Y/n found her self zoning out a little.

“Still good?” Alex murmured beside her, nudging her lightly.

She nodded, steadying herself. “Yeah, all good. Just… here for Max.”

Kika squeezed her hand with a knowing smile. “Then let's make sure it stays a surprise. He’s going to be thrilled when he sees you.”

As they moved through the paddock, Y/n’s heart pounded with anticipation, mind focused on the green eyed man she had fallen deeply for.

The three walked on, their voices blending with the hum of the crowd. Y/n kept her head low, hoping the brim of her cap would be enough to keep her from running into anyone who might recognize her. But, as fate would have it, the moment she rounded a corner, she accidentally brushed shoulders with someone.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, stepping to the side, her eyes firmly on the ground.

“No worries,” came the familiar voice. It took a moment for her to register it fully, but when she did, her stomach twisted. Lando. Her heart raced as she kept her face turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She could feel his gaze linger on her a second too long, like he was trying to place her.

She felt his eyes on her as she started walking away, her pulse thudding in her ears, but she willed herself not to look back.

“Y/n?” Lando’s voice followed, tentative, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. She quickened her pace, hoping the crowd would swallow her up before he got a chance to catch up. But his voice called after her again, firmer this time. “Y/n, wait!”

But she didn’t stop. Alex and Kika shared quick glances before positioning themselves beside her, subtly shielding her as they continued through the paddock. She tried to steady her breath, focusing on Max and the reason she’d come here today.

“You’re okay,” Alex whispered, leaning close, her tone comforting but firm. “He doesn’t need to be part of today.”

Kika gave her hand another squeeze, a silent reminder that she had people around her who understood. They pressed on, eventually arriving at the garage, where Y/n felt the comfort of familiarity wash over her. Lando’s voice was lost in the crowd behind her, and she took a deep breath, knowing that this moment wasn’t about the past. It was about being here, now, for Max.

The last ten minutes of the race were a blur of intensity. Max and Lando were neck-and-neck, battling it out on the track like two lions. Every overtake and every turn had the crowd on their feet, and the tension was palpable. Y/n felt her pulse pounding in sync with the roaring engines, each corner threatening to shift the race's outcome. Her hands were clasped tightly, white-knuckled as she watched the screen, Alex and Kika mirroring her tension beside her.

“Come on, Max,” she whispered, her eyes glued to the screen as the cars hit the final lap. Lando had pulled slightly ahead on the last corner, but Max was right on his tail.

The team radios crackled with updates, and she caught snippets of Max’s voice, tense but determined. He was pushing the car to its limits, using every ounce of focus to close the gap between him and Lando. She knew he could feel it, the weight of the championship riding on his next move.

Max’s car edged closer, drafting behind Lando to reduce the air resistance as they hurtled down the straightaway. The gap between them was shrinking. Just as they approached the final few turns, Max made his move, diving down the inside, daringly close to the wall.

The crowd erupted as he edged past Lando, his car taking the lead by the narrowest margin. It was heart-stopping, and for a brief moment, Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched, hardly daring to blink.

“Come on, come on,” Alex murmured beside her, her hands gripping Y/n’s arm.

Max’s car crossed the final corner in front, accelerating down the home stretch with Lando mere inches behind him. It was all or nothing. Y/n held her breath, the crowd’s roar filling her ears as Max’s car hurtled toward the finish line.

“Max Verstappen wins the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and the World Championship!” The commentator’s voice rang out, echoed by cheers and applause from every corner of the circuit. Max had done it. He’d crossed the line first.

Y/n’s vision blurred with tears of relief and overwhelming pride as she watched him slow down, the realization settling on his face even through his helmet as he punched the air in victory. The entire team erupted in celebration, people rushing forward, and she felt herself swept along, her heart so full she could barely contain it.

She barely registered the tears slipping down her face as she laughed, catching a glimpse of him stepping out of his car, arms raised in triumph. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, but through it all, she felt a magnetic pull, the thrill of knowing she’d be there when he turned around. She wanted to be the first face he saw when he celebrated the dream he’d just made real.

The atmosphere at the podium was electric. Max stood in the center, his face still flushed with the adrenaline and euphoria of victory, the World Champion trophy gleaming in his hands. Confetti rained down in a glittering storm as fans cheered and waved flags. Y/n watched him from the sidelines, her heart pounding with an indescribable mix of pride, relief, and love.

As he looked out over the crowd, Max’s eyes finally landed on her, hidden among the sea of people but unmistakably there. His expression softened, and in that moment, a private smile crossed his face. She raised her hand in a small wave, feeling her own grin tug at her lips despite the tears gathering in her eyes.

Max took a deep breath, lifting a bottle of champagne and twisting off the cork, sending it flying into the air. The bubbly spray erupted, drenching the mechanics nearby. Lando wiped a droplet off his cheek, unable to suppress a hint of a smile at the chaos, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed his mixed feelings.

Back at the garage, the celebratory atmosphere still buzzed with excitement, but now it felt more intimate. Max pushed through the group of mechanics and team members, his heart racing not just from the victory but from the anticipation of seeing Y/n again. As he turned a corner, he spotted her leaning against a wall, her smile brighter than the confetti that had rained down just moments ago.

“Y/n!” Max exclaimed, rushing toward her. He enveloped her in a tight embrace, lifting her slightly off the ground. The warmth of her presence was intoxicating, and he could hardly believe she had made it.

“You did it! I can’t believe you’re the World Champion!” Y/n said, her voice bubbling with joy. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks,” he replied, beaming down at her. “I couldn’t have done it without you Mijn liefje.” He leaned in closer, whispering, “You’re my lucky charm.”

They shared a tender moment, eyes locked, the world around them fading into a blur. It felt like time stood still, and all the tension from the race melted away in the warmth of their presence. In that moment, what Y/n had already been thinking was solidified, he was her endgame.

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

formula1 has posted

liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 7, 291, 103 others

formula1 Max Verstappen is the 2024 World Champion for the 4th consecutive year in a row.

tagged: maxverstappen1

charlesleclerc 🎉🎉

redbullracing CONGRATULATIONS MAX!!

landonorris good job mate

-> user1 i just know he was in pain

user2 well earned!

user3 lando should have one

-> user4 grow up

user5 so no ones gonna talk about the way max was smiling at someone when he was no the podium

-> user6 no he was just happy

-> user7 no he was definetly looking at someone

-> user8 RIGHT!

-> user9 LOOK AT HIS RECENT POST OMG

user10 why is no one talking about the fact than Y/n Y/ln was there

-> user11 WAIT WHAT

-> user12 yeah my cousin was there an shes a HUGE y/n stan and she said she saw Y/n with Alex and Kika

-> user13 😱😱

-> user13 proof??

maxverstappen1 has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 11, 293, 293 others

maxverstappen1 FOURTH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!! I couldn't have done it without you my love 🖤

user1 THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING

user2 WHO IS IT

charlesleclerc shes definitely giggling and kicking her feet

-> alexandrasaintmleux can confirm i just heard her scream

-> maxverstappen1 😂😂

user3 what does the black heart mean?!

-> user4 🤔🤔

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

The night was electric as Max and Y/n entered the club, the pulse of the music matching the racing rhythm still echoing in their hearts. The atmosphere was alive with celebration; lights flashed in vibrant colors, and laughter echoed off the walls. Streamers adorned the ceilings, remnants of the day’s earlier festivities, creating a glamorous backdrop for the night ahead.

Max, still riding high from his victory, squeezed Y/n’s hand as they made their way through the crowd. She felt a mix of excitement and nervousness; the energy around them was contagious. As they reached the center of the club, they were greeted by a chorus of cheers from their friends, who had gathered to celebrate his win.

“Max!” Pierre called out, raising a bottle of champagne as he waved them over. “You made it! We were starting to wonder if you’d show up!”

Max grinned, pulling Y/n closer to him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

The group enveloped them, and Y/n felt the warmth of camaraderie wash over her. Daniel handed Max a drink, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. “To the champion!” he shouted, and Charles raised his glass in agreement. “You earned this!”

They made their way to the dance floor, surrounded by friends and the infectious beats of the music. As they danced, it felt like the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them. Max pulled her in close, their bodies moving in sync, the rhythm of the music guiding them.

Y/n laughed as Max spun her around, her hair whipping through the air. She felt free, unburdened by the past and the weight of expectations. In that moment, all that mattered was their connection, the joy of celebrating his hard-earned victory.

“Can you believe it? You’re the World Champion!” Y/n shouted over the music, her voice filled with exhilaration.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” he replied, his eyes sparkling.

The song shifted to a slower beat, and Max wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “Thank you for being here,” he said softly, his gaze sincere. “You really are my lucky charm.”

They swayed together, the world around them blurring into insignificance. For Y/n, it felt like the beginning of something beautiful.

As the night wore on, laughter and cheers filled the air, and the celebration continued. Y/n found herself lost in the moment, reveling in the energy of the club and the warmth of Max by her side. Her heart was full of him, she didn't think she could ever get enough.

---------

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, that oneartgirlalex and 26 others

y/nsprivate the king of my heart 🖤

jimmyandsassysdad 🖤

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

just got back from a party and realised i forgot to post <3

this is prolly shit but whatever

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

5 acts

words: 2k

warnings: soft!rafe, very fluffy, insecurity from rafe, reader is described as having curly hair, established relationship, brief nudity but very sfw (reader is topless while getting a massage but no descriptions)

5 acts of service to spark romance between you and your partner

make their morning easier: make them breakfast, or their coffee just as they like it

take care of their vehicle: get it washed, filled, and oil changed if needed. it'll feel like a weight off their shoulders

organize something meaningful for them: go through an old photo album or set up a space in the home that caters to them

pamper them after a long day: draw a bath, brush their hair, give them a massage 

set up their favorite movie night: get their favorite snacks, light some candles, and turn a simple movie night into a romantic evening

rafe frowns as he reads over the list again.

“baby!” your voice rings out, and he's quick to jump to his feet and rush down the stairs.

“oh!” you stop as he lands on the hardwood in front of you. “you came down so quickly.” you giggle. “i was just going to tell you dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

“ill get the table set up.” rafe leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving you to look at him in confusion as he walks away, a certain amount of pep in his step you're not used to seeing.

you get even more suspicious when you bring the dish into the dining room and see that rafe has a candle lit.

“is there a special occasion i forgot about?” you question as rafe pulls your chair out for you.

“nope, just treating my girl.” rafe swallows thickly, surprised and disappointed in himself that you're already noticing his change in behavior.

it all started last weekend when rafe overheard you talking to your girlfriends about love languages. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, truly, but he found himself quickly locked in when you said yours was acts of service and quality time, but that you couldn't think of any acts of service rafe has done recently.

you didn't sound that upset about it, and even immediately clarified that rafe makes up for it in other ways and you weren't even sure what he could do for you, but rafe was determined to change the tides of your relationship.

act 1

rafe shuts his alarm off quickly before looking over at you, making sure the beeping didn't wake you up as well.

he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees your eyes are still closed before carefully sliding out of bed and tiptoeing out of the room.

rafe makes it to the kitchen keeping his steps quiet as he looks around at the various cabinets. he's not sure where to start, so he begins with unloading the dishwasher and putting everything away, when he opens up a cabinet to see the waffle maker and an idea sparks.

rafe opens up the pantry, stepping in to find the mix as well as anything else he might need for the breakfast, and just like that, rafes plan sets into motion.

he makes a stack of waffles, but not before turning on the coffee machine so you can wake up to a fresh brew. he makes a good portion of eggs for you to split before checking the clock, figuring it's about time to check to see if you're awake.

rafe pours your coffee in your favorite tumbler before adding ice and syrup, smiling at himself for remembering just how you like it.

rafe is about to head out of the kitchen when he hears your footsteps coming down the stairs.

“good morning ba-”

“oh my god, im so late for my nail appointment, why didn't you wake me up?” you squeal, grabbing your purse and adjusting the outfit you threw on quickly.

“i didn-”

“i got to leave, like right now, sorry babe.” you run up to rafe and press a quick kiss to his lips, about to rush away when you realize the two plates of breakfast.

“it's okay.” rafe shakes his head. “i'll make you breakfast a different day. forgot you had a nail appointment. but here-” rafe grabs the tumbler and thrusts it into your hand. “at least take the coffee i made you.”

rafe can see the conflicting emotions going on inside your head.

“hey.” he says softly. “it's okay. go. you and i both know how ridiculous those late fees are.”

“okay.” you nod, pouting and looking back at the plates as you leave.

act 2

“do you have any plans today?” rafe asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

“nope. just hanging with you.” you smile up at him, snuggling closer to his side, not yet ready to leave the bed when rafe is keeping you so warm, occasionally pressing kisses to your face.

“im gonna go take your car to get it serviced.” rafe says. “since you don't have anything going on.”

“oh.” you hum. “okay.” you were secretly hoping you could just have a lazy day in bed with rafe, maybe even force him to watch some trashy reality tv, knowing it'll only take a couple minutes for him to get fully invested in whatever drama starts up between the couples.

“you stay in bed though.” rafe smiles at you, sliding out from under the covers, leaving you to pull the blanket tighter around yourself and inhale his fleeting scent.

rafe heads down the stairs, a pep in his step at getting this task done for you. he grabs your keys before heading out the door, taking it to the service center first for an oil change. it's not very dirty on the inside, but rafe decides he'll still vacuum the inside after taking it through the wash.

you really only use your car when rafe is gone or you have an appointment, so it doesn't get used often.

rafe finishes everything he wants to get done for you, filling up your tank before driving back home.

rafe is whistling and happy as he returns home and heads back up the stairs, and just like he expects, you're still in bed, but sat up, watching the television.

“hey baby.” your smile widens as you see him. “i missed you so much.”

“sorry, doll.” rafe changes quickly before climbing into the bed. “but i got everything done on your car.”

“thanks.” you hum. “really appreciate it.” you press your face into his chest, throwing one leg over his hips as you return to a lying position, no longer caring about what's on the tv now that you've got your boyfriend back.

“you don't have anything else you wanna get done today, do you?” you ask. “i thought we'd have all day together.”

rafe sighs as he looks at the clock, realizing just how long it took him to service your vehicle. “well, we have the rest of the day at least.”

act 3

“um, rafe?” you call out as you open up a drawer in your closet, expecting to see the tangled mess of necklaces and earrings just as you left it.

“honey?” rafe walks into your bedroom before realizing you’re in the closet.

“where’d all my jewelry go?” you ask confused.

“oh, i organized it for you.” rafe moves to the drawers, sliding open the two underneath to reveal jewelry displays and every piece neatly put away. “i also got you a display for your favorite necklaces but i wanted you to choose what ones go up there.”

“where at?” you ask, noticing the necklace rafe got you for your first anniversary in missing from the drawer.

rafe doesn’t respond with his words, taking your hand and guiding you out of the closet and into the main bedroom, where you notice the necklace stand shaped like a tree with two chains already hanging from them.

“oh my gosh, whats this?” you squeal, pulling the new necklace off the stand, admiring the diamonds that glitter back at you in the shape of an r.

“for you, baby.” rafe kisses your cheek.

“what has gotten into you?” you ask, but before rafe can worry too much about you figuring out he’s following a guide on how to treat you better, you turn and pull your hair off your neck for him to slot the necklace on.

act 4 

“oh right there!” you moan out as rafe rubs at your back, hands smoothing up and down against your skin, gently kneading into your muscles as he does.

“love pampering you baby.” rafe leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“you’re so sweet.” you smile and turn your head. “i’m gonna have to make it up to you.”

“you already treat me better than i deserve.”

you frown and turn over onto your stomach, bringing the blanket with you to keep your chest covered. “not true. you’re an amazing boyfriend.”

“thanks, doll.” rafe doesn’t want you to worry about his insecurities in this moment, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “stay there.”

you get comfortable on your back, eyes sliding shut as rafe starts some gentle music. it flows from the speakers as rafe hums along to the instrumental version of a popular song, grabbing your hairbrush from off the dresser.

you are only vaguely aware of rafes movements, when suddenly a hand is placed on the top of your head, massaging against your scalp that has you moaning out again.

you hear rafe chuckle at your reaction, the sides of your lips also quirking up, when you suddenly feel a hairbrush running through your strands.

you scrunch your face up and give it a moment, hoping rafe would stop when he suddenly brushes through a tangle, making you cry out.

“shit.” rafe drops the brush with a clatter onto the hardwood. “im sorry.”

you can hear the defeat in rafes voice and you turn over onto your stomach to face him, frowning. “baby? whats wrong?”

“i just can’t do anything right. i try to make you breakfast, you have to leave. i take your car to be serviced, and i miss out and spending time with you. i can’t even brush your hair all romantically like the guide said.”

“guide?” you question, grabbing your shirt and putting it back on as you pull rafe up to sit on the bed next to you.

“i… i read something online. about acts of service you can do for your partner. i just want to be a good boyfriend.”

you don’t mean to, but a laugh falls from your lips. “rafe, that’s ridiculous. you’re already the best boyfriend without even trying. did i say or do something to make you feel like you needed to try harder?”

“no-” rafe sighs, knowing he has to admit it. “i just heard you talking with your friend about love languages. i’m trying to make it up to you.”

“and the guide told you to brush my hair?” you scoff. “im guessing whoever wrote that did not have curls.”

“you're probably right.” rafe lets a smile come to his face.

“i love you for you, not because of the things you do for me. besides, you do enough without even trying or following some guide. you take out the trash, you stock up on my favorite treats, you get me anything i want whenever i feel the slightest bit ill.”

“so… you don’t want me to do the last thing on the guide?”

“depends what it is.” you shrug. “if it involves you leaving and doing something for me, then absolutely not. or at least you can take me with you.”

“i set up a romantic movie night in the living room.”

“that sounds much better for both of us than you brushing my hair.” you giggle.

act 5

you tuck yourself further into rafes side, smiling as your favorite scene finishes, turning your attention to rafe.

“thank you for doing all this for me.” you whisper, keeping your voice soft. “i love you so much.”

“i love you.” rafe says earnestly, ducking his head to press a kiss against the top of your head, but you’re quick to reposition so your lips can meet.

“now we have to figure out your love language so i can do things for you.” you tell rafe.

“my love language is you.” rafe says, squeezing you tightly. “my everything is you.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[norrisainz33]

beauty and brains || cs55

☆ summary: carlos’ long term partner is an engineering student, victoria’s secret model and all around fam favorite. him and a few others surprise her ahead of the singapore gp!

☆ pairing: carlos sainz x model!student!reader

☆ fc & warnings: kelsey merritt & none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you sm for the request and for your patience🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

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user1: beauty and brains fr

user2: you are everything

yourbff: i can’t even imagine the stress of exams and the show

ynuser: i am so stressed but we shall persevere 😭 last time i ever have to do this!!

yourbff: you have GOT THIS GIRL! you gonna be a graduate so SOON!!!!!

ynuser: going to need some drinks after this is all over

yourbff: say less baby

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl i can’t wait to see you 🤍

ynuser: i can’t wait to see you in singapore mi amor 🤍

carlossainz55: counting down the minutes. i am so incredibly proud of you

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹 don’t make me cry carlos

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re going to crush these exams mon ami

ynuser: thank you best friend 😘

user3: vs fashion show?! that is huge! im so proud of you 😭

user4: omg i’m going to the singapore gp too!!! i hope i see you

user5: you are the blueprint

carlossainz55 has posted to his story

[i am so proud of you my love. the sky is the limit and this only the beginning]

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user3: YAYYYY CONGRATS TO OUR FAVORITE PRINCESS

user5: how she managed to get a degree and be a full time model at the same time is so impressive

landonorris: yessssss that’s our girl let’s gooooooo

carlossainz55: could not be more proud!

landonorris: i am having the hardest time keeping my mouth shut abt the fact that we’re going to her show. she keeps talking about how much she misses you and all of us

carlossainz55: if you tell her i’ll drive you straight off track in singapore

landonorris: understood

user6: carlos are you going to the vs show??????

ynuser: i love you so much 😭 thank you for the flowers, im so glad to have gotten them this morning. i wish you could be here!

carlossainz55: it is the least i could do!! i love you more than words could express. i’ll see you soon 🤍

lilymhe: you should’ve gotten her more flowers

carlossainz55: 100 roses is not enough?

lilymhe: nothing is enough when you’re dating the most perfect woman in the world

carlossainz55: i suppose you got me there

scuderiaferrari: we are so proud of y/n!!

user8: begging to know if you’re going to make an appearance at the victoria secret fashion show king

user10: simp ☝🏻

user11: you’ve moved me with this carlos

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmundt, victoriassecret, judebellingham, erlinghaaland, and 764,238 others

ynuser: new york city - it’s time 🪽

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user6: ahhhhh it’s vs time!!!

user8: gUYS is carlos going to be there to support her 😭

user12: i feel like no bc singapore is right around the corner

user8: ugh yeah true but this is so important and he already missed graduation 😭

user12: ik!!! crossing fingers he can make it

user10: the footballers in her likes lol

carmenmundt: so effortlessly beautiful

ynuser: that’s you carmen 😘

carlossainz55: that’s MY girl

ynuser: yes it is 🤍

user9: i’m literally so excited to watch the show later

victoriassecret: can’t wait to see you later y/n 🩷

yourbff: so glad to be here with you 🫶🏻

ynuser: you’re my rock

oscarpiastri: time to shine

ynuser: 💎

user10: that’s our engineering graduate!!! look at her go!!!

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user6 and 12,285 others

f1gossip: 🚨 breaking: carlos sainz, lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell, carmen mundt, and alexandra saint mleux have all been spotted arriving at the victoria’s secret fashion show in support of y/n y/l/n who will be walking in the show tonight

view all 135 comments

user12: user8 he’s there 🥹

user8: i fully screamed this news made me so happy

user12: we love to see the support 😭

user15: no bc i’m about to cry. what do you mean all of them flew out to new york when they’re supposed to be in singapore in 3 days to support their girl y/n/n?????

user22: no because they clearly love her so much im sick

user16: this is an elite pull by y/n

user4: this is everything to me i hope you understand

user19: praying this brings good karma to carlos in singapore

user18: y/n is so loved

user8: she really is 😭

user5: things i will never shut up about: this

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lando.jpg: even though carlos told me to close my eyes more times than i could count at the show, i wouldn’t have wanted to spend 24 hours in nyc with anyone else. congrats to y/n - we all love you muppet

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user3: he revived lando.jpg to congratulate his friend this is so sweet

user55: CARLOS TOLD ME TO CLOSE MY EYES IM CRACKING UP

carlossainz55: thanks for coming with me mate! and yes don’t look at my girlfriend

lando.jpg: my bad mate! i forgot i went to the fashion show to not look at any of the fashion

ynuser: carlos 🙄

carlossainz55: 🤭

user9: who is gonna tell carlos that his girl is a model and it’s literally her job to be looked at in crying

ynuser: landito!!!! i can’t express how happy i was to see you all there. thank you for coming my sweet sweet bestie

lando.jpg: y/n/nito!!!! ofc always happy to support you

user8: the way carlando and y/ncarlando are so close is so incredibly important to me

user43: the second pic of y/n and carlos just called me single in 55 different languages

lando.jpg: same

user43: LANDO

oscarpiastri: lily and i wish we could have been there!!! still so proud of you ynuser

ynuser: you were there in spirit, i felt it

use13: i’m not gonna be normal abt this, sorry in advance everyone

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63, scuderiaferrari, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya, carmenmudnt, and 976,374 others

ynuser: last night was unreal, a total dream come true. ever since i started modeling it was a dream of mine to walk in the victoria’s secret fashion show and i did it!! but what made the night even sweeter was all the amazing people who came to support me. to my carlos, thank you for making that happen 🤍 see you all in singapore!! i need a nap 😴

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user2: you were radiant

user5: the peoples princess fr

carlossainz55: anything for you mi angel

ynuser: i’m the luckiest girl in the world

carmenmundt: i’m so glad i got to be there!!! you are a STAR

georgerussell63: what carmen said!

ynuser: thank you carmen and georgie!! i love you both 🫶🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: proud is an understatement

ynuser: 🥹 i’m so thankful for you

user7: she is the moment

user10: i hope you get the best sleep of your life on that trip to singapore

sabrinacarpenter: gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous

ynuser: 🤍

user9: i’m going to miss you when i scroll

ynuser has posted on their story

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user3: you need a rest ms girl idk how you’re still standing after exams and the vs show and now traveling to singapore

lilymhe: yayyy lemme come find you

ynuser: yesss please!!! i’m with carmen and alex

lilymhe: yay yay yay yay

user6: praying you bring him good luck today! i am SICK of the dutch national anthem

yourbff: did you sleep the whole flight?

ynuser: omg yes thank GOD. pays to have a bf with a private jet

yourbff; GOOD you needed that

lilyzneimer: i’m so glad you’re here with us 🫶🏻 i missed you

ynuser: i missed you more lils

lilyzneimer: truly not possible

user5: i’m here too!!! hoping to see you ms queen

user9: thank god you’re back in the paddock i missed seeing pics of you there

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, zendaya, yourbff, lilymhe, and 564,133 others

ynuser: carlos sainz!!! el matador!!!!! oh my god i am speechless!! you did that baby 🤍

view all 876 comments

user55: CARLOOOOSSSSSSSS

user6: carlos sainz winner of the singapore gp!!!! breaker of the mv win streak!!!

user8: tell me you all saw the clip of her crying while watching him on the podium

user2: might have been the cutest thing i’d ever seen

user8: i hope a love like that finds me

carlossainz55: you brought me some luck mi princessa 🤍

ynuser: no luck needed with a drive like that 😍

landonorris: i made the photo dump 🥹

ynuser: of course you did mr podium man

user9: carlando podium is so important to me

yourbff: congrats carlos!!! truly amazing stuff from you

carlossainz55: gracias y/bff

scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️

user11: i never thought i would care so much about vroom vroom cars but y/n you have shown me the light

user10: oh i love you two so much

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated. i do be slow af on here with these requests,, my apologies y’all

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[bwskj]

NSFW MDI | jjk x reader

- jjk characters reacting to u asking them on call for a moaning audio -

chars: gojo, nanami, megumi, sukuna, yuuji, inumaki

notes: (text) are you; bulleted + written

tags: honestly just a lot of nsfw stuff, pls x away if ur a minor or uncomfy

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

gojo

— “baby what?”, he laughs amused, “did you just say you want me to send a moaning audio?”

— you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “ah baby, well i could do that… just not for free. give me something to look at and i’ll make it, how about that?”

output: bro sends a hand held video of him jacking off while sitting on the living room couch. a part of his laptop sitting on the coffee table with your photo/video on it is shown in the upper half of the video, behind the main character that is his thick hard cock. satoru likes talking as if you’re there kneeling in front of him, pretending he’s got your face to tap his dick on before he fully wraps his hand around the girth and starts pumping. he often groans low with the occasional sharp inhales through gritted teeth. eventually, he gets to the point wherein he’s leaking so much pre-cum it’s enough to help him make big smooth strokes over his length. his camera angle ends up wonky sometimes because he’s too zoned in jerking off to you. “fuckkk baby, god you’re so—hot” and “shit… that’s mine, that fucking pussy belongs to me.” he sure loves his dirty talk, “bet you wanna ride this huh, baby? want your tight pussy walls sucking up my cock.” when he finally cums, you can tell he’s trying his best to not hold in his moans (cause ofc that’s what you’re looking for). his thighs tense, spreading apart as his cum shoots up high, loud groans with every shot that spatters all over his bare stomach. he aims the camera down at his messy torso, laying his dick on it as he swipes it across the mess around and on his happy trail. “you better lick this clean off, baby.”

nanami

—“excuse me? a what?” (you repeat yourself)

—hunched over his desk at work, he says, “honey i… don’t do that,” he sounds concerned that you would ask for such thing, “do you need it for… something?” you can imagine the stitch in his brow when he asks this.

— (you reply with a vague and teasing “maybe”) kento lightly huffs, seeming slightly bothered (?)“well, i’m busy right now… just… wait until i get home.”

output: no audio but what did you expect he was at work! not like he would do it though if he wasn’t. instead, on the way home, he’s got one thing on his mind. the thought keeps bubbling up in excitement, making him tap his foot in impatience as he rides the elevator up to your shared apartment. when you hear the jangle of his keys in the doorknob, you spring up from where you’ve been rotting. a smile immediately appears on your face when you see your boyfriend looking even more dashing with the appearance of a man who’s worked hard all day at work. “you’re home, i—“ you’re about to tell him you’ve missed him but he cuts you off when he closes the distance, leaning in and catching your lips with his. he drops his work bag on the floor as the big palm of his hand slides onto your back. he pulls you close, not giving you the chance to speak anymore as his deep hungry kiss keeps your mouth busy. you manage to make at least the sound of, “mphh.. Kento!” when his lips pull back a bit. you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, his jaw and shoulders feeling rigid when your hands feel over them. “couldn’t wait to get home,” he mumbles when his mouth detaches for a second — basically, yea, he fucks you pretty much the whole night or until you can’t take any more. everything he does is meant to please you; he thrives on giving you, his pretty princess, what you want, feeling fulfilled when he knows he can keep you more than satisfied.

sukuna

— “the fuck? a moaning audio? why would i do that?

— he stretches his jaw, the eyes on his cheeks fluttering a little eye roll. he speaks into the mic at a low volume, “baby if you miss being dicked down just say so…”

— “uhuh yea, keep pretending you don’t want it til you’ve got this cock in your mouth, right? stay put. i’m coming over”

output: no moaning audio. he gets to your place in 10 minutes (how the fuck he got there that quick you’ll never know). when you greet him at the door, mouth ajar in surprise, you can’t stop yourself from cheekily saying, “well, isn’t somebody excited?”

“i wanna know what the bitch who’s asking for an audio sounds like when she gets what she actually wants,” he cockily spits out as he looms over you by the still open door frame.

your eyes widen at his response but you can only stutter before his hand is suddenly holding you by your throat. he welcomes himself in, shutting the door behind him while you almost stumble back into your hallway. your hands instinctively reach to grab at the back of his hand around your neck. not even a second later and his other hand grabs one of yours, tugging it and placing it over the tent in his pants. his fingers sandwiched around your neck begins to squeeze and you accidentally sound out a moan. you can feel his sharp nails pricking your nape. his hand holding yours guides you into palming him. a dark smirk is on his face. “i’m fucking hard. do something about it.”

long story short: he rails you (on your bed, in front of the mirror, doggy style or just backshots in general— he loves pinning your wrists behind you and watching your tits bounce everytime he pounds into you. when you’re on top, he doesn’t even give you the chance to ride him on your own). “how you liking this, huh? sweet little slut. you like this fat cock fucking your stomach? isn’t this better than some shit tease through the phone?”

megumi

— his cheeks warm when he hears the words through the phone, “what’s that?” He asks though he knows full well what you mean (i think megumi would be a secret tumblr user).

— you carefully explain it to him. there’s hesitation in his voice when he says, “oh, i see…”

— alarmed by the way his voice trailed off, you reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.

— he replies with a slightly stammered okay and the call eventually awkwardly ends with exchanged ‘i love you’s and ‘talk to you later’s

— you feel slightly embarrassed for voicing your request but it’s not long before you forget about it. it was worth a shot.

— that night, while you’re snuggled up in your cozy blanket, you receive a single voice note from megumi with no message attached

— megumi blushes as he stares at the file he just sent, wondering if he did it okay. you don’t know that he jack offed and recorded not even five minutes after your call ended.

output: when you press play you’re immediately met with the semi-distant sounds of megumi’s shaky gasps and breathy low moans. it looks like he sent you a recording of the most interesting part of his session wherein wet stroking sounds are being picked up by his phone. there’s oftentimes soft whimpers that slip through, the noise of his bed covers shifting on his skin almost overpowering it when he gets more and more into fucking his hand (or whatever he’s slotting his dick through). you have to replay it a couple times to make sure you heard right—pride blooming within you when you’re certain he’s whimpering and mumbling out your name. his moans rise in pitch and grow more rugged the closer he gets to his climax. “a-ah… mm—hah.. gonna c-cum,” you can hear the strokes getting faster and the sheets being gripped tight. when he cums, he gets even louder, noisy staggering moans falling out his mouth. you just know his throbbing dick is thrusting up while chasing his high. when it dies down, you can hear soft panting and then the sound of his phone being picked up. there’s a silent pause before his voice comes through low and crisp, “i… hope you liked that.”

yuuji

— “a what audio??”, he laughs, “you’re kidding!” His laugh fades when he realises you aren’t.

— “wait seriously, you’re into that? like those audios on reddit or something?”

— (“… you know those?” you ask curiously.)

— yuuji gets flustered, he stutters, “i-i don’t—I accidentally came across them once. kinda freaked me out, ngl…”

— (“freaked you out?”)

— “yea, i dunno, never imagined guys to be doing that for a living. and i didn’t know there were girls who especially liked that.”

— (“really… well a lot of girls actually like that. but yea, i guess you wouldn’t really know, cuz you know,” you lightly tease.)

— yuuji rubs a hand over his blushing cheek, “you don’t have to keep reminding me that you’re my first…”

— (he always reacts like this and so you remind him again [you love reminding him], “sorry my yuuji, but you know, i love being your first, especially knowing that my competition is literally THE jennifer lawrence.”)

— you can hear the smile yuuji is trying to keep down, “and your 100x better than her,” (honestly, you just tease him to hear him say this again)

— (“so what about that audio?”)

— “hm?” yuuji didn’t even realize it until now that he’s got a hand over the boner jutting through his boxers

— you quickly reassure him that he can say no if he doesn’t want to. there’s a silence that hangs for a moment in the call, and when you’re about to say something again to dismiss the topic, he starts, “could you… maybe, talk me through it?”

output: you piece together that yuuji’s turned on. “are you… hard rn?” your voice comes gentle through the phone and yuuji grabs his dick stronger through the cloth, pushing his palm against it. he shudders, “m-maybe.” your voice sounds so good.

“are you…” you trail off, but yuuji knows what you mean. he quickly replies, “is this okay? you can tell me if it’s not, i-i’ll stop.” yuuji doesn’t want to stop but he’s stiffened his hand on his dick to try to stop himself from touching further without your consent.

there’s another short pause before you say, “mm, it’s okay, yuuji… you need help?”

“mhm,” he hums, instantly resuming his hand movement. there’s slight guilt when he clears his throat and says, “s-sorry our call kind of—went in another direction, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I can—“

your laugh cuts him off, “sweetie it’s okay. i’d like to help. we’ll hit two birds with one stone since i wanted an audio anyway.”

yuuji blushes even harder. “I… I’ll try to not… hold it in.”

you grin, biting at your lip as you lay in your bed with your phone planted on your ear. “Good… you’ll give me what i want hm?”

Yuuji’s breaths are beginning to tremble as he continues to rub himself to the sound of your voice. “y-yea, for you… i’ll do what you want.”

it gets more serious when yuuji finally takes his dick out his boxers and starts pumping it up and down; it’s almost fully hard. he loves it when you ask him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking about. his moans start off quiet but when you tell him you wanna hear him, his voice breaks and he lets a louder sound come out his throat. “can you imagine your hand as my hand, or my mouth?” you ask him. at this point your thighs are squeezed together and you can feel the wetness pool in your panties. this makes yuuji moan even louder.

after a couple minutes of this teasing dirty talk, yuuji can’t take it anymore and the needy words, “fuh… i… i want to see you. c-can i?” slip out of his mouth.

it turns into a video call after the both of you move to transfer to your laptops. you can see yuuji’s tip peeking from the bottom edge of the screen. his shirt is on and it’s lightly sticking to his skin, likely because he’s starting to sweat. when you turn on your camera, your pretty face comes into view and you’re in the usual clothes you wear at home: loose shirt, no bra, panties. you can instantly tell yuuji’s back to jerking himself, though you can’t see his whole hand or his face at all.

“let me see you, sweetie,” you say, hand digging between your sticking thighs and going over your clothed crotch.

his movement slows, “shit, you wanna see me?” he sounds embarrassed. you nod. yuuji is obviously reluctant, but he listens, repositioning his laptop further so it captures his face and dick in hand. you feel yourself throb at the sight.

it isn’t long before you’re touching your bare pussy in front of the camera, tits out on display. you’re lewd and so is yuuji, now more confidently moaning as he pleases himself to you. between your own sounds, you softly say, “gosh my pretty baby. you’re doing so well,” knowing how your boyfriend is secretly a sucker for praise. yuuji groans, body jerking as his face flushes even redder. “will you come for me?” you say. you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

yuuji’s a moaning needy mess, the hand not on his dick pinning the hem of his shirt high up. “fuugh… y-yes… yes for you. I’ll come… i’m about to—about… agh—“

yuuji’s hand pumps the tip fast and he cums strongly, head bowing as his hips thrust up and he shoots white. “Ah~ oh~,” he’s shaky and noisy all the way through his high. when he finally lifts his head up to look at you, you’re sweetly smiling (you came watching him cum but he missed it ://). you stare at one another for a moment before the both of you let out (somewhat nervous) laughter.

yuuji pats sweat off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, careful not to have the other covered in his own cum go near his bed sheets. “gosh, you’re good. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you beam. “and i’m so lucky to have such a pretty, handsome boyfriend. you did great.”

he shyly looks away, biting on his lip to suppress a smile, “thank you.”

inumaki

— you text him asking for a moaning audio (unless u want inumaki to go tuna tuna at u on call lmao)

— “?”

— “how do i make that?”

— you send him a voice note explaining what kind of audio it is, making sure to tell him he doesnt have to do it if he doesnt want to

— “…”

— “okay…”

— “i totally thought you wanted to hear me in pain and i was… concerned.”

— (“??? baby pls no?!)

— “thank god”

— there’s a pause in the chat

— “i would send if i could.”

— (“wdym? if you don’t feel comfortable about it it’s okay maki”)

— “no… um”

—(“?”)

— “i don’t really get hard unless ur here.”

— (you stare at his message before sending an “oh !”)

— “yea… nothing else does it for me. sorry.”

— (you’re both blushing and stricken by his response. “no baby don’t be sorry TT you don’t need to do this. i can always hear you in person.”)

— “sure?”

— (“yes for sure TT”)

— “:p i’ll make those sounds for you next time if you really like them.”

output: next time you see each other, it starts off as usual. a casual date outside before going back to his place for nightly cuddles and eventually… that. it’s clear inumaki remembers you’re conversation without you having to bring it up. he’s nervous at first (he’s always been pretty quiet mostly because he’s mindful of using his voice), and you see it in his eyes. “just let it out okay? it’s just me here,” you whisper when you softly kiss under his neck, a little shy as well. soon, when you’re kissing, touching, and sucking him all over, his moans are tiny sharp inhales and whimpers rising up his throat; they come out somewhat muffled because of his closed mouth. since he can’t really risk saying anything, he’ll tell you that he feels good with a hand combing through your hair or a thumb caressing your skin. he’ll buck up into your throat when he cums, his mouth accidentally opening to sound out a breathier vocal moan. when you pull up, wiping your mouth after swallowing, he doesn’t hesitate to pull your face close, kissing you sweetly. you know it’s his way of saying ‘thank you. i love you.”

—— <3

a/n: wrote smth diff today (context: i usually write leon kennedy stuff) these are just my headcanons so i’d love to hear what u guys think! xoxo i had sm fun writing this hehe

also, can u guess who my fav char is? (it’s not the one with the longest part— mb that some are longer than others, idk how to stop smtms)

[witchesverse]

brainwashed

pairing: dark!agatha x fem!reader

summary/request: Could you write a dark!Agatha Harkness x reader where she brainwashes you to make you her partner + if it is possible dub/noncon + smut

content: noncon, brainwashing, manipulation, kidnapping, virginity taking, pain, face slapping, pussy eating, crying, being thrown into a wall, begging.

a/n: sorry i know u asked for smut but i wanted to focus more on the brainwashing part :(( there is some smut but its not long

masterlist

"Don't you feel, I don't know, guilty for doing what you're doing?"

Agatha raised a brow and pursed her lips at Wanda's question. The younger witch shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and adverted her eyes to the ground.

"Guilty for giving her a better life?"

"For brainwashing her, Agatha."

Agatha bit her tongue. She hated when people used the word brainwashing to describe her relationship with you.

"She's perfectly content here. Why does it matter?"

"Of course, it matters!" Wanda snapped, "Y/n doesn't get to make her own decisions anymore and she doesn't get to think for herself."

"What?" Your voice caused both women's heads to snap in your direction.

Agatha's face morphed into anger before relaxing. She spread her legs and patted her thigh, which you gladly took a seat on. Her arm wrapped around your waist and she pulled you into her.

Wanda muttered a quiet apology before standing and leaving Agatha's house.

"What did Wanda mean by that?" You questioned.

Agatha laughed, "She's just had too much to drink, dear. You know how ditzy she becomes."

You nodded, wanting to trust Agatha but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. A dreadful feeling coursed through your body, but you didn't know why.

-

You woke with a gasp.

You remembered everything.

You met Agatha in the bar bathroom. You were drunk and high out of your mind, but she scared you enough for you to be able to recall the memory. Even as you fought her, she took your virginity and promised that she would be back for you.

You went to the police about her but they had no files on anyone with her description. You almost believed that you imagined the entire thing.

That was until she kidnapped you.

She didn't immediately place you under her spell, but after your fourth escape, she did. And ever since then, you've been brainwashed into thinking that you have been married to Agatha for centuries.

You glanced at Agatha's sleeping form and felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Whilst sleeping, she seemed sweet and harmless, but you knew she was a monster.

You carefully slipped out of bed and gathered a small bag of clothes. You needed to escape.

"Don't you fucking dare."

Magic wrapped around your body and threw you into the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs. You coughed and gasped for air as Agatha stalked towards you, purple energy dancing around her fingers.

"You're a sick fucking bastard." You spat.

The back of Agatha's hand collided with your cheek and you fought tears from pooling in your eyes. She scoffed like she was disgusted with you.

"You love it, don't lie."

"How the fuck can I love something if I can't even make my own decisions?" You screamed, not caring who heard you. "I'm not content or happy here. Wanda was right, you should feel-"

Your words got stuck in your throat as unbearable pain spread throughout your body. It felt like someone was piercing your body with thousands of knives whilst your body was set ablaze.

The pain continued until your vision started to speckle black and you were on the verge of passing out.

Agatha picked up your limb body from the floor and placed you on the bed. She hummed softly as she removed your clothing and kissed your bare skin.

You recognised the words she was humming and thrashed in her hold. Agatha was trying to put you back under her spell. Agatha tsked and her magic pinned your limbs down.

"Agatha, please." You cried, "Let me go."

Agatha ignored you and kissed your clit before wrapping her lips around it and sucking softly. The humming stopped, but magic encased her fingers, continuing the spell.

There was no point in fighting her, but that didn't stop you from squirming uncontrollably. You tried to kick her in the face and screamed in frustration when you couldn't move.

"You're fucking evil." You snarled, which pulled a chuckle from Agatha.

"You should meet my ex, sweetheart. I'd be considered kind compared to her."

"I'm surprised you even have an ex. You aren't loveable."

Agatha smiled but didn't say anything in response. It almost looked like you had hit a nerve.

A wave of comfort and peace washed over you. Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed. You should just give into her. Life was difficult before her.

No, No. These aren't your thoughts. They're her thoughts being injected into your brain, right? Your life before her was great! You had thousands of dollars of student debt, you were barely able to afford your bills, and you were struggling with friendships.

No, that's not right. Your life was good, wasn't it? You used to live at your cottage and sell vegetables to local farmers. But your life was better once Agatha, an abandoned and hurt witch, showed up to your door and was seeking refuge.

Those pesky villagers were hunting her down with their pitch forks. They wanted to hang her and burn her body. Such wretched, horrible people. It was the 1800s for crying out loud! Surely, people would start to realise witches' aren't that bad.

Agatha is the love of your life. She is everything you will ever need and you are destined to be with her forever.

Wait, what were you just thinking about? Was it about what you were making for dinner? You think so.

"My love?"

Your heart fluttered at Agatha's voice and you smiled. You cupped her face and kissed her softly.

"I think I might be coming down with a cold, Aggie." You rested your forehead against hers. "My body is aching and I feel so confused."

Agatha hummed, "How about we take a warm bath together?"

You gladly took Agatha's hand as she helped you to your feet. There was no questioning to why you were nude as that happened time to time; it just made it quicker to bathe.

"I'd love that."

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You live alone in the woods, really close to the border between human territory and orc territory.

You live a life of solitude, lonely sometimes but overall you enjoy the quietness. Mostly.

This winter has been brutal, possibly the coldest you've ever endured. Hunting has been particularly hard. Perhaps that's why you thought the ice would hold as you cut a fishing hole in the middle of a frozen over lake.

They say love makes you do stupid things but hunger is the real mind melter. Before you get a chance to scream the ice cracks and you plunge right into the deathly cold water hiding beneath the ice.

You manage to frantically pull yourself out of the water and onto thicker ice but you can't will your body to do anything but hyperventilate and shiver violently on the icy surface. You can't will your limbs to move, a stinging numbness renders you immobile. Is this really how you die? Trembling in a fetal position as your very enzymes collapse.

In your panicked haze you can see a blurry figure slowly coming towards you from the Orcish territory. This only makes your fight or flight go into overdrive and currently neither option is viable. The only warmth you feel are the tears seeping out of your eyes and freezing on your wet cheeks. You close your eyes, trying to still your breaths so you at least die with dignity.

And then you feel warmth. Warmth engulfs your shaking hands and you open your glassy eyes. You have to squint but you can make out the manly features on the strangers green face. The fear that spikes in you at the sight of an orc so close and the comforting warmth of his hands covering yours create a very confusing contradiction.

You can do nothing as the giant beast lifts you into his warm arms, You can do nothing but convulse and heave as he speed walks his way into the woods, further into Orcish territory and further away from your home.

You try and see where you're going but the whole thing is a blur, before you even realise it you're looking around what you assume is the orcs home. Cobblestone walls, small living area, couch, carpet, fire.

Fire.

Your shaking fingers try to grip the orcs fluffy coat, you would crawl across miles of broken glass just to get closer to that fire. Luckily you don't need to do that because the stranger brings you closer to the fire and starts undressing you, struggling to pry the heavy drenched layers from you. You barely have it in you to be bashful or scared at this moment you just need the fire. You need to crawl into the hearth and stay there for as long as possible.

He strips you of everything but your underpants, what a gentlemen, and takes his top layers off as well leaving him in only a tunic and pants. He grabs a thick wool blanket from the couch and throws it over your still trembling body. He then bundles you up in his (very big) arms and scooches as close to the fire as possible.

You try and stretch your feet out to the fire desperately needing to gain feeling in your toes again. If you can't walk how will you hunt or forage, You need to walk. You would have burnt both your feet in the flames if it wasn't for the orc grabbing your ankles and tucking your feet into the blanket with a huff.

The orc hugs you to his chest and rubs your back as you shiver, warm hand softening the gooseflesh and lulling your frightened body into a more calm state. It takes a while before your breathing evens out enough to drift off in the warm embrace of this stranger.

You resolve that whatever problems are waiting for you when you wake will be better dealt with after proper rest and recovery.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.

[chuulyssa]

jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

.

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

.

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

.

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi! could i get spencer reid and number 8?? maybe post prison and sunshine reader who’s a little excited and maybe a bit chaotic with their technique of carving the pumpkin! thank you🫶🏼

Oh this is such a cute idea for them!!!

“Are you doing a scary face, Spencer?” You ask as you start sketching the face you want to carve onto your pumpkin.

You look across the picnic table where Spencer’s got his knife in the head of the pumpkin.

You’re in his backyard, he’d invited you over for his birthday with the rest of the team and had asked if you could stay past brunch to do something with him.

You’d said yes and hoped you didn’t sound too eager. Spencer doesn’t care either way, he wants to spend time with you just as much.

“I might be,” you’re almost certain he’s going to do a very scary one. “I’m debating a werewolf and a vampire.”

You nod, picking up the biggest knife to start carving away some of the pumpkin. Spencer’s heart stutters when you grunt and yank the knife from the pumpkin.

“That’s cliche,” you mutter, eyes never leaving the pumpkin. “I’m doing Greg from Over The Garden Wall.”

Spencer had a feeling, he’d told you that you and Greg are very similar and though you didn’t want to accept it, he was very right.

“Be careful,” he nearly screams the words as you pull the knife from the pumpkin again and almost send it straight through your palm. “Do you want a smaller knife?”

You shrug, “If you think it’d help,” Spencer does.

He trades knives with you, but the size of it doesn’t help; you’re a chaotic carver.

Spencer stops carving entirely, instead focused on your progress and the way your tongue peeks out the corner of your lip just a little as you work.

With the smaller knife, it’s a lot less near misses, but as you talk to him about anything and everything and your focus goes all over the place, he panics every time the carving knife reaches your cheek as you talk with your hands.

“Spencer you’re not even carving anymore.” You whine, eyes wide and pout in place as you turn your pumpkin around and show him your carving.

“No I was busy making sure you didn’t impale yourself.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re a little dramatic don’t you think?”

Spencer shakes his head, “You nearly cut your hand twice, babe.”

He’s watching you as you round the bench and sit beside him. “I’m all finished so you can start yours again.”

You hand him the carving knife, smiling when Spencer kisses your cheek in thanks.

“Are you really doing a vampire?” You ask as he starts.

“Yes,” Spencer thinks for a moment, “There’s an apple cobbler in the over for you.”

You gasp, Spencer looks up, a tiny blush on his face.

“For me?” You repeat and Spencer nods.

“With extra crumble on the top, it should still be warm.”

You smile, “You’re the best ever Spencer Reid.”

He shakes his head, curls flying a little. “So you tell me.”

You eat the cobbler on his porch, occasionally checking on his progress and if by the end the vampire he’s carved looks a little like you, who can judge him- you’d make a pretty undead.

[cat-got-your-tongue]

ׂ╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

Logan howlett x fem!reader

CW: smut | unprotected sex | fluff | praising | Soft logan | dominant logan | oral (male and female receiving) | light spanking | light choking | spitting |

Word Count: 2.6k

Authors note: Hi, please be kind and show support. I got a little carried away with the smut part. Oops. Not proofread. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. My requests are open.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

Logan and casual dominance just came natural. You had to get used to it at first. You never really had someone take care of you the way he did. It was always the little things that showed you that he really did love you.

Pours your coffee for you while you hold out your mug.

Enjoys cooking and even feeding it to you. Especially breakfast because he knows you're very tired to do anything at all early in the morning.

Cooking together, and it's really him giving you the easiest tasks. "Wash the vegetables for me, will ya?"

"Be a good girl for me and hand me the butcher knife."

"Let me do that for ya" is what you'll hear a thousand times a day

When you're out in public, logan loves putting his hand on the small of your back and guides you around.

While you're getting ready for a date night together, logan absolutely loves getting kneeling to help put your heels on and then brushing his fingers up your leg to tease you. Maybe he'll give the inside of your thigh a little kiss, too. You constantly tell him you can do that yourself, but if it was up to him, you'd never have to lift a finger to do anything.

If you're at a restaurant, he'll order for you because he knows sometimes you get a little flustered and nervous. "It's okay. I'll tell'em what ya want, don't worry." He'll reassure with a smirk as he winks at you.

He likes to keep an extra cardigan of yours in his truck just in case it gets cold later on if you're still out together. He'll wrap you up in it and hug you to his body for extra warmth even if you tell him you're fine.

Hand on your thigh while he's driving at all times.

Logan always opens doors for you. When you're getting out of the car, he's running over to help you out. He'll even put his hand between your legs to prevent you from accidentally flashing anyone your underwear if you decided to wear a dress that day. Once you're out, he'll look you over and help fix your clothes and the bottom of your dress down just in case anything you didn't want showing was.

"That a new dress? Looks pretty on you."

He loves holding you close to him by your waist. He's always touching you and looking behind him to make sure you're right there.

If you're trying to reach something from the kitchen cabinet, he'll come up behind you and get it. His body pressed to your back. He loves the way you look up at him while you wait for him to hand you whatever it was you were struggling to get down.

Logan will give the top of your head a little kiss and pat your ass softly. "Here you go, baby, next time, jus' call for me."

You always got butterflies in your stomach when he did that.

"Come sit in my lap." he'll gently command you after he planned a movie for you and him to watch.

He'll rub soft circles on your hip. Your head resting on his shoulder as you both relax in eachothers embrace. Everything felt serene and calm. That was a feeling logan was never used to, but he never stopped chasing after it.

When you're not sitting in his lap and instead lounging on the couch with him as you're reading a book. Logan will have one of your ankles in his hand and softly stroke your skin absentmindedly.

Backs you up against a wall just to kiss your cheek.

Washing your hair in the shower and wants to rub your lotion on after he gets you dried off. It's not even in sexual but it always feels so intimate.

Loves to help you get dressed for bed. He'll grab on one of his t-shirts and a makeup wipe to get you ready for sleep. He'll pull back the blanket and tuck you in right next to him, with you being the little spoon.

Will lay naked with you in bed and kiss you from head to toe. Once again, it is always sexual but more tender and intimate. Sometimes, it doesn't even lead to sex. He'll hold you until you fall asleep on his chest.

Whispers how much he loves you while you're sleeping.

Logan isn't controlling even though sometimes you may feel like he is. You only felt that way if he on the rare occasion tells you no.

The only times he ever tells you no if is you want to go out alone somewhere at night. He'll drive you there and wait outside while you go have some fun with your friends. He's definitely not letting you go out alone, and he has no way of protecting you in case something were to happen. Logan has lost way too many people in his life. He's got lots of enemies. Any one of them could pop up at any moment.

— NSFW —

When he's fucking you it's a little more intense.

He loves having you ride him even though he knows you struggle to take him that way.

"You need some help, huh? My sweet girl can't do it by herself? " His large hands hold your waist to help bounce you on his cock.

"Grab onto the headboard, and I'll do the rest."

"So good, my good girl." He breathed as you whimpered. He'll thrust his hips up to meet yours. His swollen tip almost hitting at your cervix.

You felt one of his hands leaving your waist to travel up between the valley of your breasts before wrapping around your throat. Logan never squeezed down enough too roughly.

You never understood how he could be so rough and gentle with you at the same time. He's choking you but whispering in your ear, calling you his "good girl." And how perfect you are." He's peppering kisses all along your face. Spitting in your mouth while driving his cock hard and deep in your pussy.

Or when he's got you on your knees sucking him off.

"Slowly," his voice would get serious, but his hand would come down to caress your check.

Logan will always give you that lovingly look before pushing your head down all the way your nose was buried in the soft curls above his cock. Your eyes are watery with tears as you gag when he hits the back of your throat. Your makeup is all smeared, and all logan thinks as he's looking down at you, and you're looking up at him is how lucky he is to have you.

"Your throat feels so amazing. You always look so beautiful like this. Mouth full with your pretty eyes lookin' up at me."

After he cums he'll gentle pull his cock from your mouth. He bends down to give your lips a sweet kiss before squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth back up. He wants to see if you swallowed every drop he gave you. He knew you did. You always swallowed every bit of cum he released your on tongue.

Logan is obsessed with having you on all fours at the edge of the bed. Your ass up high, and your face smashed into a pillow. His face buried in your cunt from behind. His nose tickling and prodding at your entrance while his tongue flicks over your clit. His soft lips wrapped around to gently suckle on your aching bud. His hands on both of your hips, keeping you firmly in place. Every once in a while, he'll spank you to keep you focused. Not too hard. But hard enough to make you yelp.

"Aw, does this position embarrass you?" He cooed at you.

You'll nod because it does.

"Tch tch, that's just too bad."

You always felt so exposed like that, but you knew it was logans favorite position to have you in. He could do literally whatever he wanted. You tried to hide your face from him, and he'd spank you even harder for that. He wants to peak over and see your face twisting in pleasure. He wants to see your mouth open and drool all over your chin.

"Does my tongue feel good?" He mumbled against your cunt. His tongue now circling the edge of your opening.

"Good because I'm gonna fuck ya with it before I give you my dick" He growled from behind.

As he continued to tease at your entrance, he'll spit on it and use the pads of his fingers to rub it all over your dripping pussy — showing a little more attention to your clit. While he tongue slowly pushes inside you. He knows he's got you right where he wants you when he hears that little gasp you make followed by a moan. And how you seem to back up against him for more.

Your eyes close, and you grip at the bedding. All that embarrassment you were feeling was slowly fading away as logan sunk his tongue deep inside your pussy. His warm tongue moved and lapped up the mess you were creating on his mouth. He hears you whine and can feel your walls contracting around his wet muscle. He knew you were holding back your release until he said it was okay to let go. You were so perfect, too good to be true. He couldn't deny you.

"be a good girl and cum for me. I want you to."

After you cum hard to the point you're body is trembling. He'll come up and lean over your back, soothing his hand down your spine. " "shh shh, It's okay. I got ya. You did so well for me."

He won't stop talking you through your orgasm until he knows you're alright.

"Breath for me." Logan nuzzled the side of your face.

"There she is, there's my girl." He running his hand up and down your back, trying his best to relax you.

His voice was low and husky in your ear. He helped bring you back down to earth; sensing you were getting a little lost there for a second.

Once you're completely calmed down, he'll gently move you to lay on your back. Your legs dangling over the edge of the bed with him standing between them. His cock fisted in his hand as he slaps his leaking tip on your over stimulated clit. He loves to rub his precum all over that aching bundle of nerves he had been bullying all night. Your pussy glistening from your orgasm mixed with his spit. The messier he made you, the harder it seemed he got.

Logan loves watching your body twitch and hear those soft moans escape your lips. He takes forever to bury himself in you. He wants to see you lose control until you're a blabbering mess of empty promises. Promises you'll blurt out just to feel the head of his cock brush against your opening. Your juices dripping down to the curve of your ass and he licks his lips, wanting another taste. Logan would get you so worked up to the point that it was as if you believed he wasn't going to give you what you wanted.

"You gotta calm down." He coaxed you.

"You're making promises you can't keep right now, honey. I need you to relax. You really think I'm doing all of this to not fuck you?

He reassured you and ran his cock between your wet folds, spreading them apart. his tip nudging at your clit once more, making you bit down on your lip. Your hands stopped tugging at the bedding to reach out for him. You hissed at the sensation as your eyes filled with more tears.

"Move your legs up and hold the back of your thighs for me. Can ya do that?" Logan now commanded you.

All you could do was rapidly nod and do as you're told with your hands firmly gripping the back of your thighs — to keep your legs spread and pussy on display for him.

"Logan, I need you." You tried desperately to plead with him. You both had beads of sweat dripping down your body. Your head felt dizzy, and your chest was rising and falling faster.

Logan arched a brow at you. His way of asking if it was okay to finally split you open around himself.

"I-im okay." You stammered as you looked up at him. "I promise....m'ready."

His gaze softened as he slowly pushed his thick cock inside you. Both of you sigh in relief. Your walls hugged him so tight while he continued to push until he was completely buried all the way in you. He stilled for a few seconds to help you adjust.

"Fuck you're wet." He noted with his cock gliding in your pussy with ease.

Once he was fully inside and you were well adjusted, he didn't hold back. He began pumping in and out of you hard and fast. Your tits bounced as he picked up the pace. Your body was making the most vulgar wet sounds that seemed to only spur him on. Your moans grew needier and louder. You struggled to keep hold of your legs. Logan took notice of that and placed his hands on top of yours to help you.

"There we go, that better?" He bent forward a little more to whisper.

"Gettin close Lo," you whined, biting down hard on your lip.

"I know I can feel it." Logan loved when you warned him about your orgasm as if he couldn't feel your walls squeezing his cock tighter the closer you got.

Every thrust he gave, he hit your g-spot, making you lose your train of thought. A few more strokes, and you're cuming again more intensly than the last time. You're mewling and calling out his name. Your back arching off the bed but logan doesn't slow down. If anything, he seems to be going faster. Until he's spilling his cum all over your sensitive walls, as he milks himself inside you.

"You alright? Let me clean you up. Come on." He finally spoke up, out of breath as you laid there completely fucked out. But you managed to weakly nod your head yes.

"Can you walk?" He asked, you felt him gently pulling out and his eyes glanced from your face to where his cum was now dripping from your pussy.

You tried not to get embarrassed as his gaze seemed to focus on the mess he created between your legs.

Logan fought the urge to lick it clean from you. Or shove his fingers in your cunt to prevent anymore of his cum from spilling out.

When you didn't answer him again, he gave you that knowing look and arched his brow. Normally, he'd tell you to use your words, but he knew sometimes it was too hard for you to do.

You quickly shook your head. Obviously, you can't walk. You can't even feel your legs. He lets out a breathy laugh. "You'll do anything to get me to carry, huh?"

You gave him a small smile and tried to sit up.

He pretends like he's seriously complaining, but truth be told, all he wants to do is carry you. All day, every day, if you'd let him. He picks you up bridal style, carrying you into the bathroom where he sets you down at the end of the tub.

"We're gonna get cleaned up. I'll make you some food and then we can watch TV." He doesn't ask for anything in return, just that you be near him.

[solbaby7]

I would like to order a Vodka Cranberry neat please, with a salt rim and add a lime if that’s allowed please 👀😏🫶🏼

if that’s allowed? honey we all know by now i will ride the angst train until the wheels fall off🫡

[ “why do you even care?” “because i do” + smut/angst + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

“Will you—will you just stop for a second and listen to me?”

“That’s all I ever do, Az.” The words wobble, a combination of anger and sadness ruining its stability. Tears stream down your face, staining the silk of your dress and smearing makeup that took you entirely too long to perfect. “Listen to you and all your bullshit promises that you never fucking keep.”

His stealth is frustrating but not more than the pure self-hatred that brews when you can’t fight the desire to glance over your shoulder; foolishly allowing your chest to bloom with heat when you realize he was following you.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this anymore.

He promised to stay away.

Too dangerous, he said. Worried for your safety, he insisted.

Refused to be responsible for the guilt that would ensue if something horrid ever happened to you; a truth he can’t confess but you’re well versed in reading between the lines.

“I know, I’m sorry—just please hear me out. Put me out of my fucking misery because I can’t keep watching you go out with males who don’t even deserve to share your air.”

If you weren’t so hurt, maybe your mind would’ve latched onto the last part of his sentence rather than the first. “Put you out of your misery?” The harsh click of your heels on cobblestone halts so abruptly it makes Azriel bump into you a little. Bare arms brush against the sturdy material of his leathers as they cross over your chest, goosebumps staved off by the steady warmth he radiates and you pretend that’s why you don’t create more distance. “Why do you even care?”

You’re not sure to really even want the answer.

Certain, it won’t be good enough.

After everything Azriel had put you through, this never ending game of tug of war. Giving you an inch only for him to rear back and snatch a mile. Your expectations are unrealistic; a soldier hanging up his sword just for you.

“Because, I do.”

And yet, you still amuse the possibility.

Dusting off your hands and re-familiarizing yourself with the burn of rope in your grasp before taking a sharp, experimental tug.

Bodies gravitate closer like magnets, attempting to resist until the pull becomes too much.

Your heart hammers in your chest, silence filling the air for one, two, three whole seconds before the collision happens. Your lips against his own; a frenzy of a kiss where you can’t really tell if your hands are running through his hair or tracing down the strong line of his neck and shoulders just to feel him or just to remember.

All hard lines and harsh breaths as tongues grow reacquainted. The pathetic little whimper he lets out when nails scratch along the back of his neck, a bite that toes the line of too much. “Shouldn’t matter to you who I date.”

It only makes him hold you tighter, tugging your hips in closer. “I know it shouldn't.” His words muffle against your mouth, too stubborn or too selfish to pull away for even a second—not when he's finally gotten you close. “But, it still does." Shadows stretch forward, cloaking you in darkness; shielding you from the hopeless male you'd left back at the restaurant, as if they feared he'd come stumbling out in search of you.

They make it clear that you're already taken; trapped even, by a male too greedy to allow even a drop of you be spilled. Azriel's tongue trails down the length of your neck, nose nuzzling in the inviting scent of your body oils. Memorizing parts of you he’d thought long forgotten.

A mole here. Scars there. Soft pudge that warms him down to the marrow when pressed against his hardness. “You can’t just keep following me around.”

Following was a light way of putting it—stalking was more right.

His figure looming in your blind spots, lingering around corners and watching like a hawk that’s locked onto its prey. Your routine is committed to memory from the moment your fire tokes in the morning to the bakery you stop by in the middle of the week for a slice of fresh key lime pie. A reward for refraining from replying to his letters or pointedly ignoring the stunning floral display that arrives on your porch every week like clockwork. “Can’t stop even if I wanted to. Not when I know you’re out with someone who can’t even make you laugh.”

“At least they don’t make me cry.” Damn you for leaning in closer, basking in that familiar brood and the masculine musk that sends all five senses into a fritz. A defeated sigh escapes you when you melt to mush under his palms; too vulnerable to lie. “It’s easier with them.”

“Easy’s overrated.” He’s kneading at the swell of your hips until bravery grows or restraint snaps and he’s pawing at handfuls of your ass. Guiding you back until you can feel rough brick catching on strands of your hair. “Boring too—bet he wouldn’t have been able to make you cum. Even if he actually tried.”

Takes everything in you not to bite back. Especially because Azriel’s sort of right but admitting that out loud is more humiliating than your body just giving it away. By now, he has to feel the frantic pulse of your jugular under his tongue. “Maybe I should go back and find out.”

If his warning growl doesn’t send shivers down your spine, the nip of his teeth on such sensitive flesh does. “I dare you to try.”

A challenge that comes with stipulations.

Skillful hands work their way under your dress, teasing at soft thighs until his knuckles are bumping against lace—it locks you in place. Azriel lets out a mean chuckle when you hike one leg up on his hip, spreading yourself wide; presenting yourself instead of running away like you should.

It just feels so good.

Lower lips are spread wide, dripping with slick as two thick fingers glide through with ease. Azriel knows his way around, just barely dipping into a greedy hole before retreating only to tap at an achy bundle of nerves so he can see the desperate jolt of your hips. “No,” He speaks more so for himself than you, too occupied with prying you open and feeling your arousal pool in his palm. “You wouldn’t do that. Probably haven’t had a cock in this cunt since that last time I filled it—feels just as tight as I left it.”

If the nights chill wasn’t nipping at bared skin, you know your blush would’ve burned all the way down your chest. “Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying.”

You shouldn’t have said that. Probably wouldn’t have if Azriel’s thumb wasn’t working perfectly against your clit, calloused fingers rubbing against slick inner walls, abusing nooks and cranny’s that leave your knees buckling. “Don’t you know that you can’t give away a pussy that doesn’t belong to you?” Salacious sounds squelch between your thighs, head thrown back and eyes rolling in your skull as Az takes and takes; unlocking the doors to your sex and greeting it with a warm welcome. “Not if I still own it.”

[theemporium]

[4.4k] upon meeting their captain's new girlfriend, some of the devils are convinced there is something supernatural about her. others aren't. jack deems it his job to prove it.

[find other fright night specials here]

.

“She is hiding something.”

Jonas watched the way Jack slumped onto the couch, wiggling his way between himself and Timo. He also watched the way Timo took a long sip from his beer, pretending like he hadn’t heard what Jack just said despite the boy staring at him expectantly. 

“Who’s hiding something?” Jonas asked, despite knowing he would regret even opening his mouth. Which was confirmed even more when Jack’s head snapped around, a glint in his eyes that made Jonas a little uncomfortable.

“Cap’s new girl.” 

Jonas blinked before raising brows. “You mean the girl we just met for the first time half an hour ago?” 

“Yes, her,” Jack confirmed with a nod, frowning. “Geez, you think Nico would two time someone? God, Siegs, he’s a Capricorn, not a monster.” 

Jonas’ nose scrunched. “I have not drunk enough for you to start talking nonsense. Where’s Luke, I need a translator.”

Jack jabbed his side with his obscenely pointy elbows in response.

“Ouch,” Jonas hissed. 

“But I’m telling you,” Jack insisted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s weird.” 

“Dude,” Dawson muttered from the armchair beside them. “Not cool.” 

“You literally don’t know her,” Jonas pointed out. “And you’re also the last person to call someone weird.”

“Not like bad weird,” Jack huffed. “Just…suspicious weird.” 

Timo groaned. “Someone make him stop.”

“Suspicious weird?” Nate repeated, his brows raised like he was thoroughly amused by the whole conversation. “Suspicious how?” 

Jack lifted his chin. “Suspicious in the supernatural way.” 

Nate let out a boisterous laugh in response.

“Jack,” Jonas sighed deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples like it would rid him of the thumping pain that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the boy next to him. “What in loving fuck are you talking about?”

“Ignore him,” Luke piped up as he appeared from thin air, moving around the gangle of stretched out legs before settling down on the armrest of Dawson’s armchair. “He’s been watching loads of Vampire Diaries right now. He is delusional.” 

“It’s a seasonal show,” Jack grumbled.

“It’s giving you stupid ideas,” Timo retorted. “What, you think Cap is shacking it up with some vampire chick?”

“Well, nobody said vampire. I haven’t narrowed it down yet. Feels rude to assume, you know?” Jack said. “But she’s something.”

“She’s Nico’s girlfriend,” Jonas stated bluntly. “And this is probably why he waited so long to introduce her to us. Because you’re insane.”

“Or because she knows we will find out what she’s hiding,” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed at the scene across the room. 

Jonas turned his head to catch a glimpse of what Jack was looking at, just to find Nico tucked away in the corner of the room with one arm around you. He kept you plastered to his side, a fond smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he listened to you whisper something to him. It was a sweet sight, and very lacking in the supernatural aspect. 

“On the very slim chance she is,” Nate started. 

Jonas groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Nate finished, his eyes fixed on Jack’s pondering expression.

“Well,” Jack shrugged. “I’m his A. I gotta make sure he’s safe.” 

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Timo waved him off.

“Not if she’s a siren. I’ve seen what those things can do—”

“In a TV show made over a decade ago.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

…

All in all, no one had given much thought into Jack’s insane theory. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, there had been a few more interactions between you and the team but Jonas had assumed Jack had realised how delusional he was being and dropped it. That was his mistake for thinking Jack was anything close to self aware. But in Jonas’ humble opinion, every interaction with you had been completely normal and completely human.

And Jack had seemed to think so too until the Devils Family Skate Day came up. 

“Big day, huh?” Nate teased as he walked into the locker room, giving Nico a playful nudge as he walked past his stall. 

Nico lifted his head, brows furrowing together a little but he smiled nonetheless. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 

Nate raised his brows. “Wow, Cap, pretty sure you are meant to be a bit more hyped about your girl meeting your family for the first time. Your folks flew over, didn’t they?” 

“Well, yeah,” Nico smiled but shrugged his shoulders. “But uh, they aren’t meeting her today.” 

Jonas paused what he was doing, somewhat surprised. “She isn’t coming today?”

Nico shook his head but Jack opened his mouth before he could say anything. 

“What? How come? I thought you two were serious now,” Jack questioned, a weird glint in his eyes that Jonas didn’t like the look of at all. “You know, she hasn’t been to any games either, has she? Is she not a hockey fan?” 

“Stop interrogating,” Jonas grumbled. 

“No, she is but,” Nico paused, waving his hand like the motion meant something. “She’s not feeling great today so she is staying home.” 

“She’s sick?” Jack asked. 

“Probably Nico’s cooking,” Timo snorted.  

“She just feels a bit…uh, what’s the word…sensitive?” Nico answered, his brows furrowed together like he was thinking hard about his response. “She’ll be better for the dinner at Pally’s house though, don’t worry.” 

Jack’s face lit up. “The dinner at Pally’s?” 

Nico shot him a weird look. “Yes, Jack, the one you know about too because you’re in the group chat.”

Jack didn’t seem fazed. “The one on Thursday?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thursday night?”

“Is there a joke I’m missing?” Nico retorted but nodded. “Yes, the one on Thursday night. It’s nothing contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Jack responded, absolutely gleeful. 

But Nico decided not to question it further—because he was a smart man—and instead continued to gear up before he made his way out onto the ice, stepping up as captain to be the first one on the ice for the cameras.

It took less than thirty seconds after Nico walked out before Jack broke.

“I fucking knew it!” 

Heads turned in the locker room, a mix of confused and baffled faces staring at the boy but it was Jonas who sighed deeply and took one for the team, instead of ignoring Jack like his conscience was telling him to do. 

“Knew what?” 

“She’s a vampire!” 

Jonas blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“Cap’s girl!” Jack insisted, almost giddy in his seat. “She’s a vampire!”

“I thought you didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Jonas deadpanned. 

“Well, I’ve assumed now and my assumption is right,” Jack replied, a little snotty when he did. “She’s a vampire. It’s so obvious.”

“I am gonna regret asking this but,” Jonas paused, taking a deep breath like he was preparing himself. “How is it obvious?” 

Jack shot him a look. “Dude.”

Jonas raised his brows in response. 

“We never see her during the day,” Jack stated, as if that made his way of thinking any clearer to Jonas. 

“Oh shit,” Nate murmured, nodding. “Hughesy has a point.”

“No, he does not. Stop encouraging this,” Jonas sighed before turning back to Jack. “What the fuck are you on about?” 

“How many times have we met her?” Jack questioned, that odd glint in his eyes shining brighter than before. It was very disconcerting. 

“Uh, like five?” 

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “And what’s the common denominator with each of those meetings?” 

Jonas didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You know what denominator means?” 

“Shut up and answer the question.” 

Jonas huffed. “I don’t know, you were watching her like a creep?” 

“Observing in the name of science,” Jack corrected before leaning over to smack Jonas’ arm. “Dude, we only ever saw her at night. We have never met her during the day. Nico has only brought her for dinners.” 

Jonas blinked. “So that makes her a vampire?” 

“Nico said so himself!” Jack exclaimed. “He said she was feeling sensitive!” 

“You feel sensitive after one rum and coke,” Nate countered. 

“Low blow, Bas.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Jonas grumbled, shifting his attention back to lacing his skates and getting the rest of his gear on before one of the media staff came in to yell at them, “She isn’t a vampire, Jack. Drop it.”

“I’m gonna prove it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Just wait and see, Siegs.”

…

Jack’s first attempt at proving that his assumption was correct actually happened at Pally’s dinner that Thursday. 

It was a laidback get-together, something to keep team morale high with not as much effort, considering hitting restaurants around Jersey wouldn’t be the most relaxing or lowkey environment most of the team desired on their off days. Every once in a while, one of the older guys with the bigger houses offered their place up and everyone brought something for the table. 

Jonas made the mistake of assuming Luke would keep his older brother in line. 

Because Luke did not, in fact, keep his brother in line. If anything, half of the team were encouraging his snooping and theorising. Well, mostly Nate who kept sending Jack bullshit articles that Jonas was pretty sure were just Twilight fan websites. 

“Ready to eat dirt?”

Jonas frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s what you brought with you, Pally’s kids are eating with us.” 

“I—” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bring dirt, Jonas. It’s an expression. I’m asking if you are ready to accept that you are wrong.”

“Is this about the vampire thing?” Jonas questioned.

“Glad to know you think there are multiple options of things I can prove you wrong on,” Jack retorted, grinning boyishly. “Listen, this is foolproof. Trust me.”

Jonas did not trust him a single bit. 

He also made the mistake of taking his eyes off Jack for longer than thirty seconds—to have a very nice conversation with Pally’s wife about the lasagna dish she made—when he realised the boy was heading straight towards where you and Nico were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. 

“Oh fuck,” Jonas muttered, his feet already moving in that direction.

“You guys have to try this, it’s my mother’s recipe,” Jack announced as soon as he was in front of you both, extending the plate towards you and ripping the foil off the plate. 

Nico blinked. “Garlic bread?” 

“Yup,” Jack answered happily, popping the ‘p’ a little more because he was obnoxious like that.

“It looks like garlic bread from the store,” Jonas commented, standing by Jack’s side with his hand on his elbow, like he was ready to yank the boy away.

“Rude,” Jack sniffled. “It’s been passed down in my family for years.” 

Somewhere from the other couch, Luke snorted loudly. 

“Try a bit,” Jack insisted, pushing the plate closer towards you. “It’ll taste great with the lasagna. Promise.” 

You looked at the plate of garlic bread with weary eyes before flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to pass this time round, sorry.” 

Jack downright beamed in response. “Is that so?” 

“Don’t want to eat anything too heavy,” you explained, lifting your plate to show the few appetisers you had nibbled on. “You’ll have to bring it to the next dinner though, it smells great.” 

“I am sure it does,” Jack grinned, not getting a chance to say much more before Jonas took pity on himself and Nico’s discombobulated face, dragging the younger boy away from everyone else. 

“Garlic? Really?” Jonas deadpanned once they were far enough away.

“Two-zero, team vampire,” Jack said smugly, picking up a piece of garlic bread and taking a large bite from it. “Just admit I’m right.”

“You need help.” 

…

The next attempt happened a week later. 

You had finally managed to make it to a game—a late game, much to Jack’s delight—and the excitement was clear on Nico’s face. Along with the hint of nerves. But the boys were more focused on the shock of seeing Nico walking into the locker room in a fucking turtleneck. 

“What?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Jesper managed to ask, considering the rest of the guys were staring at their captain like he had grown another head.

“It’s stylish,” Nico huffed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers along the collar of his turtleneck. “Thought I’d switch it up from the shirt and ties.” 

Timo raised his brows in amusement. “Did your missus get it for you?” 

“Why does that matter? I wanted to wear it,” Nico retorted.

Jack smacked Jonas’ thigh to gain his attention. “Aha!” 

Jonas turned his head. “Aha?” 

“Aha!” Jack repeated, keeping his voice low as he watched Nico from the other side of the locker room. “You know why he’s really wearing it, right?” 

“Because he is whipped?” Nate supplied from the other stall beside Jonas.

“Well, maybe,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Or maybe because he is hiding something.” 

“You need to get a hobby,” Jonas grumbled. 

“Like what?” Nate questioned.

“A bite mark,” Jack whispered with wide eyes.

“Shit, you think she’s making Cap one of her own?” Nate murmured, letting out a breath of disbelief. 

“Or she is feeding from him,” Jack added.

“You both need to get a hobby,” Jonas decided, shoving both of them back to get ready for warmups. 

For what it’s worth, none of them manage to catch a proper glimpse of Nico’s neck before they leave the locker room or even after the game.

…

During a small break between games where the boys were in Jersey for longer than three days, Nico had invited the whole team over for a housewarming party in his new place—the one he was sharing with you.

Jonas had mostly forgotten about the vampire nonsense because Jack hadn’t brought it up in the last few weeks, most of the boys far more focused on the games as they approached the end of the year. They wanted the best chances running into the new year and into playoffs, they wanted to utilise these games whilst their bodies didn’t feel too wrecked and tired. 

It was his own mistake for assuming the season would preoccupy the boy enough to forget it completely.

“Just a heads up, you should probably babysit Jack tonight.”

Jonas’ shoulders tensed slightly as he turned to look at Dawson with a frown. “Why? What is he planning?”

Dawson just flashed him a sheepish smile, shrugging before he quickly went to hide in the corner where Luke and Simon were sitting. 

Jonas let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like some higher being would explain how in loving fuck he managed to be the one to babysit Jack’s vampire shenanigans before he pushed himself off the couch he was sitting on. He gripped the beer bottle in his hand, wondering if it would be worth grabbing another bottle before he started his hunt.

All things considered, it didn’t take long to find Jack considering the apartment itself wasn’t very big. For a second, Jonas thought maybe Dawson was trying to wind him up (it would not be the first time Luke had put the boy up to it). Until he saw Jack thrusting a gift bag towards you.

“Here we go,” Jonas grumbled.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said with a smile, looking so genuinely surprised and touched by Jack’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s just a little something,” Jack shrugged. “Living with a hockey player and all that sweaty gear can be gross sometimes, I thought a candle would be something acceptable and useful.”

Jonas frowned at his wording.

“Oh,” you let out a noise of surprise as you pulled the candle from the bag, blinking a few times too many. “That’s really sweet of you. I’ll just go put this somewhere for safekeeping.”

“Nonsense!” Jack grinned as he reached into the bag, pulling out a box of matches. “We can light it now.”

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “There’s really no need—” 

“Plus there’s a high chance someone will set their clothes on fire if we have an open flame,” Jonas jumped in, pausing for a moment before he frowned. “Again.”

“You could barely notice,” Jack scoffed.

“Jesper had no pants for the rest of the night,” Jonas retorted before flashing you a smile. “You should probably hide the matches too.”

“On it,” you said with a smile, rushing out the room like you couldn’t leave fast enough.

Jonas shifted his attention to the younger boy. “Really?”

“Vampires hate fire,” Jack explained with a casual shrug. “She’s just proving that I’m right.” 

“You are proving shit,” Jonas grumbled in response, shaking his head. “Stop scaring the poor girl before she gets a restraining order on you.”

“You know I’m right!” 

“I literally can’t think of something I disagree with more.” 

…

Jack Hughes was determined to prove that his captain was dating a vampire. 

He wasn’t like…anti-supernatural or anything like that. He just couldn’t quite seem to understand how some of his other teammates (or well, mostly Jonas) couldn’t see the obvious signs. He didn’t understand how those signs could be so easily ignored. 

Jack wasn’t against vampires by any means, but he watched enough movies and shows to know that not all of them were friendly. He just wanted to make sure you were one of the good ones. Surely, Jonas could see that. 

But instead, Jack found himself trying to prove you were a vampire to Jonas rather than figure out if you were one of the good ones.

In Jack’s humble opinion, the daylight coincidences, the garlic bread situation, the turtleneck fiasco and the candle incident were more than enough to prove his point. There were too many instances where the clues pointed to the obvious for Jack to ignore. 

Jonas seemed to think otherwise. 

And if he was being honest, Jack was tired of the constant doubt. If Jonas wanted proof, then Jack was going to give him proof he couldn’t deny with one of the most well-known facts about vampires. 

They do not show up in photographs. 

It was an old legend, possibly a myth, but one that Jack was banking on being true just to shove it in Jonas’ face—for purely selfish reasons. He had even gone as far as buying an old polaroid camera, gripping the device in his hands as he wandered around Curtis’ house, hoping to find the couple for a quick photo. 

It was New Years, the house was full of people Jack both knew and had never met before in his life and he was thoroughly buzzed from the countless glasses of champagne that had been shoved in his hands since he walked through the door. 

So obviously he was in the perfect condition to expose a vampire. 

Jack stumbled his way up the stairs, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath when he almost dropped the camera. The music was a little more muffled upstairs, the party a distant thought as he began walking around in hopes of finding you and Nico. 

He was passing by one of the guest rooms when he heard muffled voices and quickly skidded to a stop. He pressed his ear against the door, only to pause when he saw it was slightly ajar. And against his better judgement, he found himself peaking through the small crack. 

Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he seemed far more interested in the carpet than anything else. You were stood between his legs, your lips turned downwards as you let out a sigh. 

“C’mon, say it again.” 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Nico,” you said in a pointed voice, running your hands through his hair before tugging his head back. You tilted your head, watching him closely before he spoke. “Say it again.” 

“I’m your boyfriend and you love me,” Nico murmured.

You raised your brows. “Say it like you mean it.”

Nico huffed out a small laugh but his eyes didn’t look away from you. “I’m your boyfriend and you love me.”

“Atta boy,” you grinned in response. 

However, the moment was ruined by the sound of Jack dropping the camera. Both of your heads snapped around and Jack’s feet didn’t seem to catch the memo to move before he landed flat on his ass, surrounded by pieces of his camera that were completely shattered. 

“Jack?”

Jack let out a shriek, lifting his hands over his head whilst the words tumbled past his drunken lips before he could stop himself. “Please don’t suck my blood!” 

You stood in the doorway, staring at the boy with a confused frown. “What?” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you compel him! Don’t eat me!” Jack continued to ramble, his eyes clenched shut like he was waiting for a hit he knew was already coming, like he was prepared for it.

Nico shifted to stand behind you, also frowning down at Jack. “Compel what?” 

Jack slowly blinked his eyes open to find you both staring down at him with mixed expressions of amusement and concern. He gulped, his logic and common sense thrown out the window in his inebriated state. 

“Uh, her,” Jack stated dumbly as he glanced at you. “She compelled you.”

You blinked. “I what?” 

“Because you’re a vampire,” Jack said, a little bolder than before. 

Your lips parted. “I’m a what?” 

“Jack,” Nico sighed, all captainy and authoritative in a way that made Jack squirm a little in his seat, like he disappointed someone he shouldn’t have. “Why would you think my girlfriend is a vampire?” 

“Because it was obvious!” Jack insisted, scrambling to finally stand up—with the help of Nico reaching out to balance him when he began to sway. 

Nico, who now looked more amused than disappointed, only raised his brows in response. “And how was it obvious?” 

“We never saw her during the day!” Jack blurted out. “It was always at dinners or other night events. Never during the day.”

“Jack,” you said in a soft voice. “I work during the day. I don’t get off until six, and that’s on early days.” 

“Oh,” Jack murmured with a frown. “What about the garlic?”

“You mean the day you tried to shove store bought garlic bread in our faces?” Nico mused, shaking his head. “I told you she wasn’t feeling well. The garlic bread was too heavy, it would’ve upset her stomach.”

“And I’d rather not puke all over my boyfriend’s teammate’s house the first time I’m invited,” you added with a snort.

“The turtleneck?” Jack questioned.

“Like I said, a fashion choice,” Nico huffed, but his cheeks burned a little as he quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I loved the turtleneck, baby. One of my favourite outfits.”

You snorted in response. 

“What about the candle?” Jack insisted, his brows furrowing together. “You were so against me lighting it!” 

“Because I’m just sensitive to most smells,” you explained with a sheepish smile. “Most candles give me a headache but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because it was very thoughtful.”

“Oh,” Jack repeated, feeling stupid for what felt like the millionth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s sweet that you were so concerned about Nico dating a vampire that you did all of this,” you added, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Even if you did just wreck your camera.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning hot and pink. 

“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” Nico questioned, watching as the boy blushed even more—if that was even possible.

“Maybe don’t mention this to Jonas?” 

Nico’s lips twitched. “My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay, good,” Jack nodded, swallowing harshly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go either sober up or get even more drunk.” 

You snorted in response.

“Sorry once again,” Jack added with a sheepish smile.

You waved him off. “Water under the bridge, Hughes.” 

This was definitely something Jonas would never let him forget when he found out.

…

“Be honest: was that your attempt of causing a distraction so I would forget why we came up here?” 

Nico couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at you, smiling fondly when he found you already grinning back at him. He shook his head, winding his arms around your waist to tug you closer once he was sure Jack had disappeared back downstairs where the party was.

“You think I had anything to do with that?” Nico teased. “Please, I would know better.”

Your nose scrunched up a little. “I mean, a vampire? Come on!” 

“You would make the cutest vampire ever,” Nico said, laughing when you pinched his hip in retaliation. “Kidding, baby, I would never think you were one of those bloodsuckers.” 

“Damn right,” you huffed before your gaze softened. “Seriously though, before all the Jack stuff, you know it’s true, right? I love you and nothing will change that.” 

“Even your parents prefer your ex-boyfriend over a ‘measly human’?” Nico questioned, trying and failing to keep his voice lighthearted and playful as he repeated your parents’ hurtful words.

“Nico, baby,” you lifted your hands to cup his face, your voice honest and genuine as you spoke. “You’re it for me. I don’t care what anyone says, whether it's my parents being disapproving of me dating a human or your teammates thinking I’m a vampire. I want to be with you, no matter what. It’s you and me, Hischier.” 

Nico didn’t even bother to bite back the grin taking over his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting the tension slip away from his shoulders. “You and me,” he murmured between kisses. 

“Even if I was a bloodsucker?” You teased, something in your chest tightening at the way he smiled against your lips.

“Even then,” Nico mused before pulling away, a completely fond expression on his face. “Lucky for me, my girlfriend is way too pretty to be a bloodsucker.” 

You raised your brows. “Buttering me up, Hishcier?” 

“Just stating the truth,” Nico shrugged, still smiling down at you. “I always thought the werewolves were way cooler when Jack made me watch Twilight.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m much cooler than those wolves.” 

“Much cuter too,” Nico added, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and beaming when your eyes flashed yellow in response, something like a pleased purr leaving your lips when he pulled you closer.

.

[romugh]

SHE'S ON THE FLOOR ROLLING HER EYES AT ME- SJ

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 25th — stress relief, free use, friends with benefits

DAY SIXTEEN || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- scarlett johansson x fem!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!scarly,

wc- 10 276 words

a/n- wrote this as i kept refreshing ticketswap in the hopes of scoring some last minute CAS tickets, and edited this for the past four days... i'm still not happy with it, but this is what you get! anyhow, got chase atlantic tickets for in april so i'm happy :ppp (recognise the title = smooch!)

synopsis- scarly + needy + strappy? = baby?? if only lol

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀, @simpforlizzie, @riyaexee - comment or dm to be added :)

DISCLAIMER- i don’t believe any of what i write about real celebrities is or would be real, neither do i ever want to shove it down said celebrities faces. in fact, i'd rather they never see these kind of fics.

these fics ARE AU original pieces of fiction using actors as a general basis/face claim, so no need to spam my dm's saying 'writing rpf is wrong' :)

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you lay there, awake, with Scarlett nestled against you. Her body was draped over yours, one hand possessively holding your breast while the other gripped your shoulder tightly, as if she could anchor herself to you even in sleep. The gentle weight of her head resting on your chest brought a sense of tranquillity that contrasted with the restless nights she’d had lately, filled with endless to-do lists and the persistent hum of stress. Now, though, she seemed at peace—almost.

You felt the subtle movements of her body, the way her hips shifted and rocked in slow, rhythmic circles against your pelvis and abdomen. Even in sleep, Scarlett sought comfort, pressing her heat into you as if trying to chase away the tension that had become a constant companion. Soft breaths escaped her parted lips, each exhale slightly ragged as it caught on a moan, the sound barely audible but unmistakably there. Her brows drew together faintly, and her fingers tightened against your skin, clutching as though seeking reassurance, her subconscious yearning for the comfort only you could give.

You didn’t dare to wake her. She had been so tired, her exhaustion carved into the hollows beneath her eyes and etched across the lines of her face. It wasn’t just physical fatigue; it was something deeper, more draining—a kind of weariness that came from giving too much of herself to the demands of work and the expectations of others. She was juggling too many roles, always on the go, always striving to meet impossibly high standards. You had seen her push through days where every smile was a mask, her energy stretched thin, yet she still found ways to keep moving forward, never quite allowing herself the luxury of simply stopping.

Watching her now, you saw hints of the toll it had taken. The slight tremor in her exhale, the restless way her body sought friction, and the quiet whimper that escaped her throat—it all spoke of needs that had been left unattended, desires she had pushed aside because there simply wasn’t enough time or space for them. But here, in the stillness of your shared bed, her defences were down, and her body’s quiet pleading told you what she couldn’t say aloud: she needed release, a moment of surrender to let go of everything that had built up inside her.

As her hips continued their slow, unconscious grind against you, a sense of protectiveness welled up in your chest. You wanted to give her what she needed, to be the balm that soothed her stress away. There had been moments over the past week when her frustration seeped through in small, uncharacteristic snaps—brief flashes of irritability that hinted at just how much she was holding in. The way her voice would rise slightly when she answered the phone, or the way her replies grew shorter and more clipped as the day wore on.

You thought back to last night, when she had come home late again, her shoulders slumped and her gaze distant. When you had greeted her with a warm hug, she had melted into you, but her embrace had been tight, almost desperate, as though she was trying to ground herself in the solidity of your presence. There had been a tension there, an unspoken plea that came out in the way she clung to you a little longer than usual before letting go. Her laugh, when you managed to draw one out of her, had been tinged with a weariness that spoke of more than just a long day—it was the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.

Now, as she shifted restlessly against you, you could see all the signs, her stress manifesting in the unconscious roll of her hips and the quiet moans that slipped past her lips. She was craving not only the release of tension but the comfort of surrendering control, of letting someone else take the reins so she could simply be. 

With gentle fingers, you brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, watching the faint crease between her brows smooth out at your touch. The small sigh that followed seemed to echo through the quiet room, a sound that stirred something deep within you—something protective and possessive. You wanted to take care of her, to give her a space where she could let go completely. And perhaps that was what had driven your decision to surprise her later, to bring not only her favourite lunch but something extra, something that could offer the kind of comfort and release she so clearly needed.

You knew that later today, when you showed up at her office with the surprise lunch in hand, there would be a moment of recognition in her eyes—a quiet understanding of what you were offering her, not just a meal but an escape. And if she needed more than just a break from her day, if she needed to be taken to that place where she could let go completely, then you would be ready to give it to her. For now, though, you would let her sleep, cradled in your arms, her breath hot against your skin as her body continued to move in that slow, seeking rhythm.

Slowly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb her as she slept. A quick glance at the time told you it was nearly seven. Scarlett would need to get up soon, another busy day at the Outset office awaiting her. You considered waking her gently, but as her fingers tightened on your breast, you decided to let her rest just a little longer. She needed every bit of sleep she could get.

The day moved quickly after that. Scarlett had woken with a groggy smile, briefly leaning up to kiss you good morning before hurrying off to get ready. There was a hint of frustration in her movements as she pulled on a dress and hurriedly applied her infamous “three-step routine” in the bathroom mirror. It was subtle, but you could tell—she was rushing to keep up with the day before it had even begun.

When you made your way to the kitchen to prepare her coffee, you heard her phone buzzing incessantly on the countertop. It seemed as though even before she stepped into the office, work was pulling her away. She grumbled under her breath when she picked up the phone, irritation flashing in her eyes as she scanned through the endless messages and emails. You didn’t comment on it, only offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as she passed by, but you felt the weight of her stress growing heavier by the minute.

Later that morning, as you packed the Thai dishes you’d just made—Scarlett’s favourites, the comforting aromas already filling the kitchen—you glanced at the clock. Time was running out, but the idea of surprising her made you move with purpose. 

You slipped them into a small cooler bag, and you couldn’t help but picture the look of pleasant surprise on Scarlett’s face when you walked into her office. She’d appreciate the gesture, you were sure of it. But you knew there was something else she needed, something she wouldn’t say out loud, and you wanted to be prepared for that, too.

With that thought, you made your way over to your shared wardrobe. Sliding open the wooden door, you rummaged through the lower shelf, past neatly folded stacks of Scarlett's favourite Black Widow pillowcase and spare blankets, until your hand found the strap stored in its leather case. You unzipped the case and pulled out the deep black silicone toy, its length heavy and textured with faint ridges. It wasn’t built for delicate moments like teasing or taking in one’s mouth; it was for pushing boundaries, for reaching places that nothing else could. Its girth was substantial—wide enough to fill completely without room for doubt, designed to stretch with every thrust.

You ran your fingers along the smooth, cool surface before setting it aside to grab the harness. The straps of the harness were made of black leather, worn soft over time from use and care, with an O-ring securely fitted in the centre to hold the base of the strap in place. It took a few moments to adjust the straps around your hips and thighs, tightening each buckle to ensure the harness fit snugly. Once you were satisfied with the fit, you slipped the strap into place, its weight settling low between your legs as you clicked it firmly into the O-ring.

Before pulling your pants back on to leave, you reached for one of Scarlett’s belts—a black leather strip with a gleaming buckle in the shape of a heart, adorned with the red emblem of a black widow spider nestled in the middle. The buckle’s metal was darkened slightly from wear, the edges smooth to the touch. Looping the belt through the harness straps, you cinched it tight around your waist to keep the strap hidden firmly in place.

You took a moment to adjust the angle of the strap and the harness, pulling your trousers over everything until the toy was concealed against your body, its outline invisible beneath the fabric unless one knew exactly where to look. If Scarlett didn’t want anything more than a warm embrace, you could keep the strap hidden. But if she did—if she gave you that look, the one that said she needed you to take charge—then you’d be ready. Either way, you were prepared to give her what she needed, whether that was a moment of emotional comfort or the kind of release only you could provide.

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror before grabbing the cooler bag and heading out the door.

You stepped outside, bag in hand, as the crisp late-morning air greeted you. The cool breeze brushed against your cheeks, a contrast to the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds above. With a sense of determination, you slid into the driver’s seat of your car, the leather interior cool against your back. You placed the bag carefully in the passenger seat and buckled up, a flutter of anticipation running through you as you started the engine.

The drive to the Outset office wasn’t a long one, but the anticipation made it feel like the minutes stretched on. The city was alive with its usual buzz—cars whizzing by, pedestrians rushing to their destinations, the distant hum of conversation in the streets. As you navigated the familiar route, your mind wandered back to Scarlett, imagining her sitting at her desk, probably typing furiously on her laptop or going over product launch strategies. You knew her well enough to guess that she was immersed in a whirlwind of tasks, the weight of responsibilities bearing down on her.

With each stoplight you passed, you could feel a rising excitement in your chest—a mix of eagerness to see her and the hope that you could lighten her burden, even just for a little while. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel as you thought of her reaction when she realised that you hadn't actually forgotten to pack her lunch. The idea of catching her off-guard, of seeing that flicker of relief in her eyes, was almost as satisfying as the thought of finally getting your arms back around her.

Turning onto the street that led to the Outset office, the sleek, modern building came into view. Its glass façade reflected the blue sky, towering high above the bustling city below. You pulled into the underground parking garage, your car’s tires humming softly on the polished concrete. Finding a space close to the elevator, you parked and grabbed the cooler bag from the passenger seat, taking a moment to steady your breath. The coolness of the bag’s handle against your palm anchored you as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for Scarlett’s floor.

As the elevator ascended, a faint hum reverberated beneath your feet, and you glanced at your reflection in the polished metal doors. The smooth surface captured the outline of your figure—a blend of strength and softness. Your broad shoulders filled the frame, the muscles sculpted from years of dedication and routine, yet there was a distinct femininity in the curve of your waist and the subtle swell of your hips. The light fabric of your shirt stretched slightly across your chest, hinting at the toned definition beneath while still showcasing your natural shape.

The faint glint of the heart-shaped buckle peeked through, just barely visible under the hem of your shirt. The black widow emblem in the centre was a playful nod to Scarlett's iconic role, a small but powerful symbol of your connection, one that spoke of shared secrets and mutual interests. The way the belt cinched at your waist, securing the strap snugly against you, made you feel empowered, ready for whatever the moment would bring.

You allowed yourself a small, satisfied smile, the reflection staring back at you with a quiet confidence that came not just from physical strength but from the knowledge of what awaited on the other side of the elevator doors. As the chime announced your arrival on Scarlett’s floor, you took a deep breath and straightened your posture, the movement of your muscles rippling subtly beneath your shirt.

Stepping out into the office, you let the brisk, cool air of the space brush over you. The Outset headquarters was its usual bustle of productivity, a place where sleek modernity met the frantic energy of constant motion. It was an environment Scarlett thrived in, even when the pressure was relentless. Her office came into view, the glass walls giving a clear sightline to her slender figure moving restlessly inside, one hand pressing a phone to her ear while the other gestured animatedly.

You walked with purpose, your frame cutting a path through the hallway as you approached her office. The slight click of your shoes on the floor echoed softly in the open space. The moment you reached her door, you paused, catching sight of Scarlett’s tense figure through the glass. She was pacing, her brows knit together in that familiar way she did when she was overwhelmed, the muscles in her jaw flexing as she spoke into the phone.

You noticed the fatigue etched into Scarlett’s face as soon as you walked through the door. Her eyes were slightly red from exhaustion, and the lines of tension around her mouth made it clear that she was on edge. The moment she spotted you, a flicker of relief flashed across her features, quickly replaced by a kind of resignation as she let out a deep breath.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, her voice strained and weary. “It’s been one thing after another all morning. Deadlines keep getting pushed up, and I’ve got interns running around like headless chickens. Nobody seems to know what they’re doing, and—” Her voice trembled as it rose in frustration. “I just…I don’t have the time or the patience to keep dealing with every little crisis. I swear, it’s like no one can make a decision without asking me first.”

Her words came out in a rush, each one clipped and hurried as if she could barely keep up with her own thoughts. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her forehead, and you could see the strain in the way her shoulders hunched slightly, the weight of all the things she was juggling pressing down on her.

You stepped closer, catching her eye as you listened without interrupting, letting her vent. She continued, her frustration spilling over into a few harsher words about some pressing deadlines and missed calls from her acting manager. The mounting stress was evident in her quick, shallow breaths, her gaze darting restlessly between you and the paperwork scattered across her desk.

“It’s just been…too much,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t had a second to breathe.”

You moved with quiet purpose, closing the gap between you and Scarlett. Your hands found her waist gently, your touch firm but reassuring. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re doing everything you can.”

She flinched slightly at the contact, a reflexive reaction to the stress rather than anything else, but then her body seemed to recognize the comfort you offered. You guided her back toward her chair, steering her with gentle pressure from your hands, easing her away from the tense stance she’d held moments before. Scarlett's protests died down as you led her to the chair and then took a seat yourself, pulling her down onto your lap.

Scarlett's body sank into yours with a quiet exhale, her initial rigidity slowly giving way as she leaned into your chest. She brought her knees up onto the chair on either side of you, settling into the embrace as if finally allowing herself a few seconds of rest. You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close, the warmth of your body providing a buffer against the coldness of her stress.

“Just take a moment,” you murmured against her temple, your voice steady and calm. “You’ve been carrying so much.”

Scarlett rested her head on your shoulder, her breath coming out in a shuddering sigh. “Feels like there’s never enough time,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and fragile in a way that twisted something inside you. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, as though clinging to the security of having you there.

You ran a hand through her hair, letting your fingers glide soothingly over her scalp, down to the nape of her neck, where you massaged in slow, steady circles. “There’s always time to take a break,” you assured her. “Even if it’s just for a few minutes.”

Her shoulders sank further, and you could feel the weight begin to lift ever so slightly. The quiet, intimate space you’d carved out in the chaos of her day wasn’t just about distraction or indulgence; it was about giving her permission to let go, to feel cared for in a way that went beyond the demands of her hectic world.

You brushed your fingers through Scarlett's hair, gently separating the strands as she curled closer against you. Her breathing had steadied, the tension in her muscles melting away little by little. The familiar comfort of her weight on your lap felt grounding as you began to braid her hair. Each twist and fold of the strands was a rhythmic motion, a quiet act of care that seemed to ease the lingering anxiety from her frame. Scarlett nestled into your chest, her head tucked beneath your chin, the warmth of her body melding with yours.

She was still exhausted, too worn out to notice anything beyond the calming sensation of your hands weaving through her hair. The strap beneath your clothes remained hidden, out of her mind and out of sight. You worked slowly, not wanting to rush the moment, letting Scarlett sink into the quiet reprieve, her fingers resting lightly on your biceps as you braided with steady precision.

The sound of the office door swinging open shattered the stillness. Jasmine, one of the newer interns, stood hesitantly in the doorway, a stack of folders clutched in her hands. “Um, Ms. Johansson, I just need you to—”

Scarlett's head snapped up, a frustrated sigh slipping out before she could hold it back. “Jasmine, this isn’t the time,” she cut in sharply, her voice carrying a bite that was usually softened by her usual patience. “I’ve told you a hundred times, if it’s not urgent, then leave it on the desk downstairs. I don’t have the bandwidth to handle everything right now. And please, call me Scarlett, I’ve told you already.”

The young intern stiffened at the reprimand, mumbling a hasty apology before backing out of the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, Scarlett slumped against you again, letting out a weary breath. “These interns are morons,” she mumbled, her tone softening with a reluctant fondness. “But I still love them.”

A chuckle rumbled in your chest at her words, the familiar warmth of your amusement bringing a slight smile to Scarlett’s lips. You could feel her body relax a little more, giving in to the comforting weight of your arms around her.

“Do you feel like eating?” you asked gently, stroking a hand down her back in soothing circles. Before Scarlett could answer, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl that filled the quiet of the room. Scarlett let out a small, tired laugh, her head tilting back against your shoulder. “You didn’t pack my lunch or snacks or even make breakfast,” she mumbled in a small, almost whiny voice, her cheeks flushing with the faintest hint of embarrassment. “But I still love you… I’m just… hungry.”

You couldn’t help but coo softly, tightening your arms around her as you cradled her closer, allowing her to sink deeper into the embrace. You gently brushed a thumb across her cheek, taking in the weary lines beneath her eyes and the slight tremble in her voice. It wasn’t just hunger. It was a need that ran deeper, a desire for someone to take over for a little while, to let her stop carrying the weight of everything around her. Scarlett wasn’t asking for anything physical; she was reaching for reassurance, for the kind of care that allowed her to let go without the burden of being in control.

As you held her, you could feel her need to be taken care of, not in a sexual way, but in a way that reminded her she didn’t always have to be the strong one. There were times when she could lean on you completely and let you guide her through the chaos. You recognized that this was one of those times, and you wanted to show her that she could let go and be vulnerable without fear of judgement.

Before you could continue coaxing Scarlett into taking a break, the door creaked open again, this time revealing Kate. She took one look at the two of you, immediately picking up on the subtle shift in Scarlett’s posture and the protective way you held her. “Hey, I just wanted to check in—”

Scarlett didn’t respond, her eyes fluttering shut as she nestled back into the crook of your neck, ignoring the intrusion completely. Without a word, you lifted a hand, signing to Kate to give you both a little time. She gave a knowing smile, the kind that carried sympathy and understanding in equal measure, mouthing, ‘take care of her.’

You nodded appreciatively, watching as Kate quietly exited the office, pulling the door shut behind her. With a reassuring smile, you reached over and pressed the button that made the walls go from transparent to an opaque blackish tint, effectively sealing the room from prying eyes and granting Scarlett the privacy she so desperately needed.

Now cocooned in the peaceful dimness of the room, Scarlett seemed to relax even further, her breathing evening out as she sank completely into you. The weight of her exhaustion was palpable, and as you held her, you felt the silent gratitude in the way she clung to you, allowing herself, just for a moment, to be taken care of.

As began to feed Scarlett, it became increasingly clear just how much she was depending on you to guide her through every motion. She didn’t even lift her hand to help, allowing you to bring each bite to her lips and waiting passively for the next, her eyelids fluttering lazily shut between each mouthful. Her body moulded against yours, completely relaxed as if she’d given up any pretence of staying in control. You held her securely, making sure each bite was small and manageable, soothing her with your touch as you rubbed slow, steady circles against her thigh.

Scarlett’s breathing grew deeper and steadier as lunch went on, her tension melting away with every gentle caress and each soft word of encouragement you whispered. It was as though she were slowly being untangled, one knot at a time, her exhaustion finally seeping through and sapping what little energy she had left. The last few bites came and went, and when the food was finished, Scarlett rested her head against your shoulder, her arms draped loosely around you.

You set the chopsticks aside and adjusted her in your lap, wrapping her up in your embrace. Scarlett nestled deeper into you, her cheek pressed against your clothed collarbone, and you felt the weight of her beginning to sag. Her breathing became slow and even, and before long, her head lolled slightly as she slipped into a light sleep. You stroked her hair gently, the rhythmic motion comforting for both of you. As you watched her drift off, you couldn't help but notice the signs that had been appearing over the last few days—little hints that Scarlett was edging toward a kind of subspace, almost involuntarily.

It wasn’t the typical kind of subspace brought on by intimacy or desire; this was different, driven by sheer exhaustion and the need to relinquish the burden of control. The signs had been building, subtle at first—a slightly glazed look in her eyes when you’d run your fingers through her hair after a long day, the way her body would lean into you whenever you touched her, how her breathing would hitch when you whispered reassurances that she didn’t have to worry about anything for a while.

Flashbacks surfaced as you continued to soothe her, recalling the moments from the past few days that had hinted at her state. There had been an evening where she’d come home unusually late, her voice thin and frayed as she’d told you about all the missed deadlines and last-minute changes at work. You’d taken her coat off for her, helped her undress, and she’d stood there, motionless, as if she couldn’t muster the will to do anything but let you handle it. She’d sighed so deeply when you’d wrapped a blanket around her, her shoulders finally slumping with relief.

And then there was the morning she’d snapped at you about the coffee grounds being spilled on the counter before having rushed out the door. Frustration had flashed across her features before her expression had crumpled into a look of apology. She’d slumped against you right after, her forehead pressed against your chest as she whispered a string of soft “I’m sorry”s, letting you comfort her without any resistance. It was as if her need to be taken care of had become so great that she couldn't help but fall into it, the strain of trying to keep everything together becoming too much for her to bear alone.

Now, as Scarlett lay slumped in your lap, her breathing deep and even, you recognized the same look on her face—the softness around her eyes, the slight parting of her lips as she gave in to the comfort of your embrace. She was surrendering completely, leaning into the safety you provided and allowing herself to rest. It wasn’t a conscious choice; it was simply what she needed—someone to take over, to give her the space to let go of everything that had been weighing on her.

You continued to stroke her now braided hair, your fingers moving with a slow, reassuring rhythm, as you watched over her.

As Scarlett nestled further into your lap, her body began to shift again, the familiar rhythm of her movements returning. Her hips rolled slowly against you, just as they had that morning, with a gradual, seeking motion that brushed against your pelvis. Your hands moved to stroke her back, your touch soft and comforting, as if you were simply soothing her back into sleep. But as the moments passed, her breath began to catch, the quiet exhalations becoming small, needy whines that told you everything she couldn’t articulate. They were faint, almost imperceptible, yet heavy with meaning, spilling out with every unconscious shift of her hips.

She ground down in one particular motion, her breath catching sharply as if that angle had jolted her back to consciousness. Her eyes flew open, wide and glazed, but not quite seeing—her gaze locked on you, pupils blown, lips parted in a silent plea. You smiled gently, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, one that had slipped loose from the braid you’d woven half an hour earlier. Your hand lingered against her cheek, the tender touch grounding her as she trembled in your arms.

You didn’t move beyond that, didn’t try to push her one way or the other. You simply watched her, letting her find her own pace. Her grinding became more insistent, her hips rocking down harder, and her eyes searched yours with a quiet desperation. Her breath hitched again, the whine that escaped her lips now unmistakably filled with need. It was as though she was asking without words, leaning into you with all the yearning and exhaustion she had kept bottled up.

You ran your thumb along her cheek, brushing over the warmth of her flushed skin as you whispered softly, “You have to be quiet, Scarlett. We’re still in your office.” Your voice was steady, calm, as though coaxing her back to the reality of the room around you.

But Scarlett shook her head, her hair falling loose from the braid, the motion sending a shiver through her frame. She looked up at you with glassy eyes, her voice barely above a murmur, slurred with fatigue and longing, “Please just– make me feel good. Please, need it, need you.” The vulnerable pleas spilled from her lips, her tone so small and fragile, laden with all the need she’d been holding back.

You nodded slowly, your voice a calming murmur as you traced the curve of Scarlett's spine with your fingertips. "Okay, sweetheart," you whispered, “but only if you keep working. I’ll be right here with you…I’m not going anywhere.” Your reassurance seemed to steady her, a small spark of relief lighting up her eyes. She looked back at you, her lips trembling with need, before nodding faintly, as if agreeing to the terms in the only way she could.

Her hands moved to your waist, fumbling as she pushed your shirt and sweater up and struggled to free the strap from beneath the belt. Her fingers were clumsy with anticipation, each tug growing more frantic as she wrestled with the buckle. The blush that crept across her cheeks deepened into a rosy hue when she realised it was her favourite belt—the heart-shaped buckle with the Black Widow symbol a familiar sight. She hesitated for a breath, her eyes widening when it dawned on her just what you’d brought along.

Scarlett’s breath stuttered as the realisation sank in further, her skin flushing all the way down her neck. It was her favourite strap, the one she’d always gravitated toward when she wanted to feel utterly full and stretched to her limit. It wasn’t exactly discreet—meant for deep, satisfying penetration rather than anything subtle. Yet, here you were, prepared to have her on your lap while she tried to continue with her work, the mere thought making her heart pound in her chest.

She shifted on your lap, her dress sliding up as she positioned herself just right. The hem bunched up around her waist, enough to hide most of the intimate act from any wandering eyes. Her breath hitched sharply as she eased herself down, feeling the initial resistance before the strap slid deeper inside her, stretching her with a slow and deliberate pressure. Her moan came out as a half-stifled whine, the needy sound echoing in the small space of the office as she sank all the way down onto your lap. The fullness made her tremble, her thighs pressing into yours as she tried to get used to the sensation.

You shrugged off your sweater, knowing that technically, anyone could just walk in the room. The office was surprisingly cold, and you didn’t want to risk her becoming uncomfortable, so as an extra measure, you reached over Scarlett’s head and pulled the oversized hoodie down over her frame, adjusting it until it covered her almost completely, draping over her like a protective shield. Now, if anyone did happen to walk in, they’d see nothing but a cosy moment—Scarlett resting in your lap, wrapped in an oversized hoodie, looking every bit like she was simply leaning on you for comfort as she typed away on her laptop.

Her hands settled against the desk to steady herself, and you continued to caress her back over the fabric of her dress, letting her adjust at her own pace. There was a softness to your touch, a reassurance in the slow, steady movements that told her she didn’t need to rush.

As Scarlett nestled deeper into your lap, you could feel her surrendering to the moment, inching closer and closer to that delicate line of subspace where she felt safe, cherished, and utterly at peace. The way her breath began to deepen, slow and steady, was like music to your ears. It was a sure sign that she was slipping further into that blissful state of submission, her fingers moving sluggishly over her keyboard as if every keystroke required more effort than usual.

The trust she placed in you was palpable, and it made your heart swell. You watched as she leaned back against you, her body curving against yours, her entire demeanour softening with every gentle caress. It was almost intoxicating to see her give in so completely, the tension of the past weeks melting away as she became pliable in your arms.

To draw her even deeper into that trance, you began to tease her with soft commands and subtle touches, each action deliberately crafted to heighten her anticipation. “Keep working for me, babe,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. Your fingers trailed along her back, sending shivers through her as you coaxed her further into the depths of her submission.

With every slow stroke, you could feel a different kind of tension building within her. Scarlett's breaths became shaky, little whimpers escaping her lips as her body reacted to your ministrations. You kept her on that precipice, refusing to let her find that release she craved. Hours slipped by, and with each passing moment, you noticed how her arousal grew. She was already so wet, the evidence of her need staining the fabric beneath her as she almost unnoticeably rolled her hips in a rhythmic, unconscious dance, seeking friction against you.

By the time the clock struck 6 pm, it became clear to you just how far she had fallen into that deep mindset. Her expression was one of pure need, eyes glazed over as she looked at you over her shoulder with an almost dazed desperation. The way her lips parted, the soft gasps spilling forth from her throat, and the subtle way her walls pulsed around your strap told you everything you needed to know.

“Please…” she murmured, her voice soft yet filled with urgency. “Make me forget.”

Those words sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire in your belly as you realised just how close she was to losing herself completely. The constant fullness had become a torment for her, a tantalising tease that simply wasn’t enough anymore.

With a firm grip on Scarlett’s waist, you lift her from your lap slowly, savouring every reaction as the thick length of the strap brushes over each nerve, dragging against her sensitive walls. Each inch you pull her away is torturously slow, every movement controlled, intentional, and you watch as her breath hitches, her eyes fluttering shut. Scarlett clings to your shoulders, lips parting with a soft gasp as her body shudders, helpless to the way each nerve is ignited with need. Finally, the strap slips free, leaving an obscenely wet sound in its wake, accompanied by a slick warmth dripping down her inner thighs.

 For a moment, you catch a glimpse of your mark left within her, her entrance still slightly gaping, pulsing, a visible reminder of her submission.

As you guide her to her feet, her legs are shaky, nearly giving out beneath her, but she’s obedient, unwavering in her focus, her mouth slightly parted, breaths coming in shallow waves.

“Good girl,” you murmured as Scarlett sank to her knees in front of you, her legs trembling from the effort. Every inch of her body speaks of surrender, from the lingering imprint of the strap to the way her thighs tremble as she kneels, waiting. You’re captivated, and that familiar thrill rises in your chest, igniting as she stares up at you, ready, trusting, and open to whatever you decide comes next. There was something undeniably captivating about the sight of her like this—kneeling obediently before you, her body still pulsing from the fullness that had just been taken away.

Another gush of wetness dripped down her inner thighs as she stayed on the floor, the evidence of her arousal glistening in the dim lighting of the office. You could see the way her skin flushed as she breathed heavily, eyes locked onto yours with a mix of exhaustion and submission.

“Stay right there,” you commanded, your voice soft yet firm as you reached for Scarlett’s laptop. “I’ll finish your work.”

Scarlett’s lips parted in a quiet sigh as she rested her hands on her thighs, her posture completely surrendered. She looked up at you with a gaze that was filled with trust and need, her body still trembling in the aftermath of the pleasure you had denied her for so long. It was clear she was still deep in her submissive headspace, her mind willing to follow your every word.

You placed the laptop in front of you on the desk, positioning it so that you could type while still maintaining a steady gaze on her. Scarlett remained still, eyes heavy-lidded as she watched your every movement, her breath hitching each time you shifted your attention back to her.

You felt Scarlett’s head grow heavier against your thigh as she began to drift, exhaustion wrapping around her like a shroud. You stroked her hair gently, pity filling your chest as you looked down at her. She was clearly on the brink of falling asleep, her breath deep and steady, her body lax and surrendered. But that wasn’t what you wanted for her—not yet. She needed to stay awake, even if just for a little while longer.

“What would help you, sweetheart?” you asked, your tone laced with gentle authority as your hand continued to comb through her loose hair. The question stirred her from the edges of sleep, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinked up at you with a dazed expression. You already knew the answer, your chest tightening in anticipation as you watched her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink.

Scarlett’s eyes dropped to the strap that glistened between the two of you, wet and thick from being inside her just moments ago. The blush on her cheeks spread down her neck as she glanced back up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. Her lips parted, a small, needy sound escaping her as she reached up, her fingers curling around the base of the strap, but you tutted softly and shook your head.

“My princess knows to ask before taking,” you reminded her, your voice a mixture of softness and firmness. Scarlett’s eyes widened at the reprimand, a lone tear slipping down her flushed cheek as she let out a frustrated whine. She immediately lowered her gaze, her face nuzzling against your thigh to shield herself from the weight of your steady, commanding stare.

She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of your pants, her breath warm against your skin as she tried to gather the courage to speak. The struggle was evident in the way her body tensed and then relaxed again, like she was teetering on the edge of giving in to her desire and retreating into herself. You waited patiently, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her scalp as you felt the heat of her blush spread even further.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice shaky and filled with longing as she turned her head slightly to peek up at you, “Can I…?”

Your hand moved to cup her chin, tilting her face up to meet your gaze fully. “Use your words, Scarlett,” you instructed gently, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Tell me exactly what you need, or want.”

Scarlett's blush deepened as she pressed her lips together, her breath coming in short, uneven puffs. Her gaze flickered up to yours, and for a moment, it seemed like the words were stuck in her throat. But she finally found her voice, though it was timid and soft, barely above a whisper.

“Can I… suck your cock?” Her tone was a mix of hesitation and desperate need, her eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.

Your brow arched, the faintest hint of amusement curling at the corners of your lips. “And why do you want to do that, sweetheart?” you asked, voice low and calm, your thumb still resting against her chin.

Scarlett hesitated again, her blush spreading to the tips of her ears as she swallowed hard. “B-Because… it helps me,” she stammered, her voice faltering under the weight of her own admission. “It helps me… ground myself.”

Your eyebrow arched a bit higher, and Scarlett's cheeks burned even hotter. Another tear rolled down her flushed face, and she shifted uncomfortably on her knees, the movement betraying just how vulnerable she felt. The sight of her so deep into her own embarrassment tugged at something tender within you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you traced your fingers along her cheek, your touch as gentle as your voice was firm.

“You know this isn’t a strap for sucking, don’t you, Scarlett?” you replied, your tone taking on an almost childlike quality as you tilted your head slightly. “It’s too big, sweetheart. I doubt you could even get half of it into that pretty mouth of yours.”

The humiliation was evident in the way Scarlett’s breath hitched and her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, as though trying to shut out the reality of your words. She hadn’t thought about it—not in the way you were explaining it now—and the realisation only made her blush harder. But then, her gaze found yours again, and the fire of determination burned behind the haze of submission. She shook her head, the movement small and insistent, as though a child refusing to admit defeat.

“I… I can do it,” she whispered, her voice trembling yet resolute. “I’m… I’m a big girl. A good girl.” There was a pleading in her eyes now, a desperation to prove herself, even as she quivered under your touch.

Scarlett's lips wrapped around your length, her breaths coming in soft, needy whimpers as she took you deeper with each bob of her head, her tear-streaked cheeks flushed and glistening. The room was silent except for the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, each desperate suck drawing her further into a space where her only focus was you, and pleasing you.

Her hands instinctively gripped your thighs for support, but your fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her back just enough to make her gasp. "Only please me with that pretty mouth of yours, princess. Hands behind your back," you murmured, your voice gentle yet unyielding.

A soft whine slipped from her lips as she obeyed, her hands slowly moving to clasp together behind her. The moment she relinquished that bit of control, the trust in her gaze only deepened, her vulnerability on full display as she gave herself over to you completely.

Scarlett’s determination shone in her glassy eyes, each tear staining her flushed cheeks and smearing her mascara. Her jaw worked tirelessly, her lips stretching around you as she pushed herself further, cheeks hollowing as she tried to take more of you, to meet your silent approval. She was so close, and the thought of making you proud fueled her every motion. Her breathing hitched when she reached her limit, her throat fluttering around you, but she pressed on, determined to make you proud, the weight of your gaze driving her to keep going.

Tears streamed freely as she strained, her whimpers muffled against you, her resolve unwavering. She was yours—utterly and unquestionably—and that trust wrapped around every hitch of her breath, every soft sob as she looked up at you, wordlessly asking for your approval.

Without a single word, you slipped your hand from her hair to cup her jaw, guiding her gently but firmly, pushing her down further onto the thick strap. Scarlett’s eyes fluttered, her throat contracting as she gagged, and the wet sounds grew louder. She tried to maintain her rhythm, even as tears mixed with her gentle make-up and streaked her flushed cheeks, but she never once pulled back or looked away. Her gaze stayed locked onto yours, wide and glossy, the vivid green of her irises nearly lost in the depth of her pupils.

You brushed your thumb across her cheek, a silent approval, watching the way she responded, eager and desperate to please. Her breaths came in choked gasps between each plunge, drool slipping from the corners of her mouth and trailing down her chin, mixing with her wet remnants already coating your strap. She was a vision of need and devotion, every part of her vulnerable and open, as though she’d surrendered not just her body but her very soul to you.

With every inch she took, she sank deeper, her whole being focused on this moment, this act of submission. The look in her eyes said it all: you were her entire world right now, the centre of her universe. And in that gaze, through her tear-streaked face and soft, muffled sounds of effort and adoration, you saw everything—her trust, her willingness, her absolute need to be yours.

Your fingers slip beneath Scarlett's chin, pausing her as she eagerly works over the strap, her lips glistening, cheeks flushed. You gently tug her back by her hair, watching as her gaze lifts to meet yours, her eyes heavy with a mixture of need and reverence. A quiet whimper slips from her, the loss of contact a sudden ache, but she doesn’t question it—she simply obeys, letting you guide her upwards.

As you guide Scarlett up from her knees, her breaths are still heavy, cheeks flushed a deep red that only adds to the haze of submission in her eyes. Your hands rest firmly in her hair, both grounding and possessive, as she rises, her hands slipping from your thighs to brace herself. The heat of her skin against you, the way she follows your lead without resistance, only deepens the thrill settling in your chest.

When she’s fully standing, you keep that hold on her, savouring the haze in her eyes, the way she’s waiting, hanging on your next move. Her breaths come shallowly, still tinted with the intensity of submission, her lips parted as if they’re still moulding themselves around your strap. You slide a hand to her waist, guiding her step-by-step back until her thighs brush the edge of her desk, a slight shiver running through her at the contact. Your hand releases her hair, trailing softly down her cheek as you turn, carefully moving her laptop to the side and making room for exactly where you want her next.

The moment you step back, Scarlett moves with unrestrained need, perching herself on the edge of her desk. Her hands move purposefully across the surface, sweeping documents and pens to the floor behind her without hesitation, clearing everything that separates her from you. Pages scatter around her feet like fallen leaves, forgotten in the moment as she leans back slightly, resting her hands on the desk for balance. Her parted thighs cradle the space between you, inviting you closer, and her chest rises and falls with each breath, anticipation radiating from her as she watches you.

When you step forward, her hands instinctively find your shoulders, holding onto you like an anchor, her fingers digging in ever so slightly. There’s a look in her eyes—one of complete trust and surrender, mixed with the rawest need. She is wholly yours in this moment, and you know she’d follow wherever you lead, without question. 

With a familiar but sturdy grip on her hips, you pull her close, her warm thighs parting to cradle you as she sits obediently on the edge of her desk, waiting with that unshakable trust and raw need in her eyes. Her hands immediately find your shoulders, clutching onto you as if you’re the only thing grounding her in this moment. Without a moment’s pause, you sink into her, filling her completely. The sheer stretch and fullness has her gasping, back arching as she lets out a guttural moan that echoes through the office.

You don’t hold back, finding a relentless pace that has Scarlett's fingers digging into your shoulders. Every thrust drives deeper, pushing her closer to that raw, untamed place where everything—stress, worry, tension—melts away, leaving only you and her together, bound by the intensity of this moment. Her head falls back, and you can’t help but lean in, pressing a hand gently around her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm as you apply just enough pressure to keep her present, grounded, and so thoroughly yours.

Her breaths become shallow, eyes widening in rapture as you slide three fingers into her mouth. She accepts them eagerly, lips wrapping around them as her eyes flutter shut, sinking further into the rhythm you've set. The way she works her mouth around your fingers, desperate for that grounding sensation, shows just how deeply she’s fallen into her need. She gags slightly as you push in a little further, and you watch, captivated, as her cheeks turn pink once more with the effort, saliva beginning to trail from the corners of her lips.

The framed photo of you two, once sitting so carefully on her desk, topples to the floor with a muffled clatter, but Scarlett doesn’t even notice. Her world is so completely consumed by the feel of you, by the way you’re giving her exactly what she needs, that everything else has faded away. She clings to you even harder, nails pressing into your skin, her whines turning louder, more desperate as your pace grows even more intense, leaving no space for anything but this moment.

Her legs shake as she pulls you even closer, whimpering your name between gasping breaths around your fingers, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm, to you. Her trust, her submission—it’s all yours, and in this pure, raw exchange, you feel her stress, her tension, everything melt away, leaving only the beautiful, messy vulnerability she offers up so willingly.

You hold Scarlett so close that there’s no space left between you, and as your hand slides from her throat to cup her cheek, you murmur soft, grounding words against her lips. “I’ve got you, Scarlett,” you tell her, voice low and steady. “You’re safe. Just let go, baby—I’m right here.” The reassurance, the comfort—each word is like an anchor pulling her back to you as she spirals, her breaths catching in little, desperate gasps. She leans into every touch, every gentle kiss, letting you guide her, fully immersing herself in the trust and safety you've built together.

You feel her need, her trust in you heightening with each stroke, each whispered word, and you can’t help but tighten your hold on her, supporting her through every wave of sensation as she hurtles toward a release so powerful it could only come from the pure connection between you. 

It’s not just sex or making love, not just her body unravelling at your touch—it’s the way she feels seen, cherished, understood. It’s the way you’ve made it clear that nothing matters more than her well-being, her peace. You’d already planned the calls you’ll make, to Kate, to her agency, to give her this week she desperately needs, time to just rest, to be taken care of, with you.

You pick up the pace, pushing her further toward that shattering edge, watching her expression shift, eyes growing glassy, mouth falling open with the sheer intensity of it all. Her body tenses, thighs quivering around you, and you know she’s close, so close. You don’t hold back, murmuring her name, reminding her just how cherished she really is. “Let go for me, Scarlett. I’m here. Just let go, beautiful.”

And when it hits her—a release so overwhelming that it leaves her crying out, voice trembling and raw, her arms are ready to give out, her arched back ready to hit the surface of the desk with a small thud. Her whole body shudders, and you can see her pulse around you as the intensity rips through her, wave after wave, until she’s almost limp in your grip, barely able to keep herself upright. It’s a release that’s more than just physical. You know this moment is everything—safety, trust, the overwhelming knowledge that you love and worship her, flaws and all. One of Scarlett’s hands moves up to cling to your shoulders, nails pressing into your skin as if holding onto you will keep her grounded in this beautiful, freeing sensation.

And maybe, just maybe, you know there’s a part of her—a small, mischievous part that’s always secretly dreamed of this exact moment: of you absolutely wrecking her in her office. But that’s a story for another day.

A surge of need floods through you, and for a moment, you can’t hold back. The way Scarlett looks in front of you, her body open and ready, her trust so complete, ignites something deep inside. You gently push her back to finally hit the desk and slide her knees up, pressing them to her chest, taking in the flushed, glistening sight of her—all red, and achingly sore from how much you’ve already given her. Yet there she is, waiting, craving more.

You start moving again, each thrust deep and deliberate, eyes fixed on where your strap meets her. She’s pulsing around you, slick and needy, her wetness coating the base, leaving a faint, creamy ring with each pull out that only drives you further. Her pussy clenches around you as you thrust, the delicate flesh red and puffy, the way her body is moulding itself around your strap telling you everything you need to know—how much she needed this, how much you’re giving her right now. The red marks around her neck, the remnants of your grip, make your heart race with the raw intimacy, with how deeply she’s let you in, trusting you to push her limits but always knowing you’ll catch her when she falls.

Her face is a masterpiece of pleasure, mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyelids heavy, lashes clumped from the tears she’s shed in complete surrender to you. Her beautiful lips part in that perfect “O” shape, soft little moans escaping with each movement. You watch her eyes roll back, her brows furrowing as she loses herself completely, letting those helpless “hmm, mmhh” sounds spill past her lips in pure ecstasy. The little gasps she makes, the way she trembles under you—it’s everything. Every reaction pulls you deeper, grounding you in this shared rhythm that’s both raw and profoundly tender, each of you finding something you didn’t even know you actually needed.

You feel her building up again, her body tensing, the pull of her muscles around you signalling that she’s close, so close, and you don’t hold back. You thrust with everything, moving in perfect sync with her, giving her exactly what she needs. And as you watch her, the trust, the love, the way her body is opening for you, you know you’ll stay right here as long as she needs you—filling her, grounding her, cherishing her, in every single way.

You see her tightening around you, each tremor intensifying, her body teetering on that precarious edge, and you know exactly what's coming. Her brows knit together, lips trembling, and with one last, deep thrust, she breaks. You watch as the first wave of her release hits, her walls pulsing around your strap, and then, just as you sink even deeper, you feel it—a sudden, hot rush of wetness spilling over, coating the strap, soaking down through the fabric to your thighs.

The base of your strap is slick and creamy, each pulse of her release making it even messier, her wetness spreading as she rides out the crest of her climax. You know you’ve pushed her somewhere she rarely goes. Her muscles contract so tightly, a light, glistening spray that soaks your clothes and the desk beneath, her body surrendering every ounce of pleasure you’ve built up in her. The sight has you captivated, watching the way her release catches the light, a rare and precious surrender that she only ever reaches when she’s completely given over to you.

This is only the third time she’s ever done it, each time burned into your memory like a treasured secret: once after you’d completely ruined her, left her no choice but to let go, and once after you’d edged her past the point of no return. That day, your phone—with which you had been filming—had been left drenched in the aftermath, proof of just how deeply you could unravel her. But right now, watching her face soften, her body convulse with those final aftershocks, you feel like this might be the most intense and beautiful one yet.

Her chest heaves, cheeks flushed, and she’s dazed, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, yet still locking onto yours with that unmistakable look of devotion.

You keep her close, feeling the tremors slowly fade from her body, gently running your hands over her skin, grounding her with each soft touch. Her breaths are still shallow and shuddering, so you murmur gentle praise, each word a steady reminder that she’s safe and cared for, and that you’re here to guide her back. “You did so well, my love,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so proud of you… I’ve got you.”

Carefully, you help her sit up, supporting her as her body relaxes into you. Her gaze is still hazy, her pupils blown wide, and you brush a few stray locks of hair back from her forehead, your fingertips warm against her flushed skin. She leans into your hand, eyes fluttering shut as if your touch alone is helping her find her way back. You take your time, reaching for tissues to clean her (and yourself) up, your movements gentle and patient, each pass of the tissue over her skin a silent affirmation of your devotion.

When she’s settled again, you take her hands in yours, kissing each knuckle softly. “This week is yours,” you say softly, looking her in the eyes as she begins to focus on you, fully present again. “No work, no stress. Just you and me.”

You feel her squeeze your hand in response, a subtle but sure sign that she’s starting to ground herself. She takes a deep, slow breath, the look in her eyes shifting, becoming clearer with each passing second. You stay like that, just the two of you in the quiet of her office, letting her absorb everything, taking the time she needs to process.

And when she finally leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder with a small sigh, you know she’s back.

You hold her close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath against you. She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck, her vulnerability raw and open. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and sincere. “For everything.” There’s a slight tremor in her words, and when you pull back to look into her eyes, you can see the depth of emotion there—a mix of gratitude, trust, and a kind of love that defies words. You bring a hand to her cheek, wiping a stray tear away with your thumb.

“You don’t have to thank me, Scarlett,” you murmur, brushing your lips softly against her forehead. “I’d do this for you a thousand times over. I want you to know that I’m here… always.”

She smiles, the edges of her mouth quirking up even as a blush spreads across her cheeks. For a moment, she just looks at you, as though memorising every detail, every feeling. Then, as if a switch has flipped, her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “Well then…,’” she says, biting her lip, “we might just have to do it again sometime.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Exhibitionist,” you tease, and she laughs, that light, infectious sound filling the room.

“Only for you,” she replies, resting her head back on your shoulder, the weight of her words and the warmth of her embrace settling over you both like a promise.

“Thanks for the food, by the way. I’m expecting dessert for the rest of the week.”

a/n- i don't know how to feel about this one :') hope yuo guys like it x (sorry for the late post! stayed up and wtched AAA (kill me rn, agathario fics coming up.) and fell asleep! second-to-last kt fic tonight!)

[helslastangel]

I'm back bxtches

Random Observations #9

Y'all still need the disclaimer or will reason prevail?

🦂 Scorpio Mars are POWERHOUSES in my not-so-humble opinion. If you are prone to procrastination, especially in your career or as an entrepreneur, Aries Mars might hype you up but a Scorpio Mars (esp in 10H) is gonna make damn sure you finish your to-do list.

I had a friend with this placement and she literally bribed me with weed to come to her house, then she took my phone and house keys and made me sit and finish designing my business cards and send them to Vistaprint before she'd give my damn keys back. Made over $5K USD from my next few clients though so I wasn't even mad about it lol

🦀 I don't care what the astrology girls like to say - my observations of Cancer moons is that they are FORGIVING AF. Like it takes a lot for a Cancer moon to be really done with you and chances are you're more wrong than they are.

Cancer moons come off as manipulative to a lot of people. But when you actually dig below the surface, you'll notice this common thread where people who aren't good at seeing other people's points of view unless they need something immediately project that attitude onto people who genuinely give a shit.

Obviously there are evil Cancer moons and they're extra terrifying for the above reason, but they're the minority and the slander is unnecessary imo. The people who have literally put up with my WORST behavior the longest and genuinely dropped it after a good open conversation were all Cancer moons.

👬 Which leads me to another interesting astro trope I'd like to kick over right about now. Gemini moons. Love them but in my experience they are usually what people think Cancer moons are. Gemini moons, from my observation, don't soak up as much, if any, of other peoples' energies. They're gonna keep it moving emotionally regardless of how you wanna be in the moment. That means they can easily smile with you for years if that's the path of least resistance, but that does NOT mean they particularly like, care about or think highly of you at all. They MIGHT, but you will NOT know unless they want you to know or you somehow trigger them enough to rip the black tape off the redacted parts of their mental file on you.

If you're someone who is used to everything being totally transparent and straightforward, you're in for a wild ride with a Gemini moon in your life. I've had quite a few as friends or coworkers, etc., and I promise without fail there always came the day where I ended up wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, feet up on my desk, twiddling my thumbs listening to the 11-minute voice note from the latest Gemini moon in my life. Pretty much telling me in no uncertain terms exactly what they thought of me, where I should go, why, and how happy they would be to direct me there personally.

As a Capricorn moon, I never have the kind of reaction they'd like to this but it's always interesting to see the abrupt change as they can literally seem perfectly cool 3 minutes before the other twin takes over. I don't even think it's a good or bad thing, just how it goes.

Cancer moons seem this way but chances are you chose to ignore the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS THAT SOMETHING (probably everything) was wrong, lol. Cancer moons can't hide their feelings for shit (reason #101 why I love them; it's easier for me to fix a problem if i can quickly see there is one 😂).

🦁 Let's change tracks and talk about Leo mercuries for a minute. Y'all get your inside and outside voices mixed up a LOT, lol. Every Leo mercury I know had trouble speaking quietly in quiet-appropriate situations but then catch them outside trying to get their friends attention at the other side of the street and suddenly it's like Tom got their tongue and tossed it to Jerry. Can barely get a sound out. Why is that? I know it wouldn't be all Leo mercuries but for those who experience this, please tell me what it is, I'm genuinely curious lol. As a Libra mercury I kinda have a similar problem. On another note, I've noticed that Leo mercuries can be highly persuasive people even if solely because of the amount of power and confidence they put behind the things they say.

My ex-husband has Leo Mercury at 24° (Pisces degree) and I promise you that man could make you believe anything against your will 😂 One time he was trying to get out of having to go to a friend's event and rather than just decline like a normal person, he crafted this masterpiece of an excuse that somehow involved me needing his attention (I had been on the couch under his arm half the day so no lol) but the way he spoke on the phone?

I swear to God even I caught myself nodding along all like "yeah, yes I did feel a bit neglected today and wanted more time with babe"... 😂😂😂 like NO TF I DID NOT FEEL NEGLECTED AT ALL but I got second-hand convinced lol. And yes he was loud when I or his friends were 12 inches away but couldn't raise his voice for shit to order through the drive-thru at McDonald's lol it was cute, though, I'd do the yelling into the intercom thing 😂

🐟 Lemme say this about Pisces suns - you are very underrated, from my observations. I've noticed Pisces suns in particular struggle with one of two major issues when it comes to others' perceptions of them - either people seem compelled to minimize/infantilize their contributions and achievements, or people fail to notice they exist altogether (or forget about them easily). I've always held my Pisces sun friends close for as long as I could and hyped them up because nearly every Pisces sun I've met has been incredibly talented and usually creative in some way. I'm talking genius levels of ability in some area that goes completely overlooked or undervalued by the majority of people in their circles.

These are the people who you vaguely notice as the cool server, hot bartender, friendly delivery guy, helpful sales associate, only for you to run into them somewhere else and you find out they run a whole personal training business or play 6 instruments perfectly and give lessons to kids, or taught themselves professional photography and have a camera in their bedroom worth more than your savings account. I've met so many Pisces suns who seemed to be one way and then there were so many layers to them that it was like reading an interactive novel.

That's what was on my mind for now, drop your favorite placement from your own chart in the comments, I'll compile them for random observations #10 😘

[twilightkitkat]

Poolverine but they dress up as each other for Halloween. I'm not just talking about swapping costumes—they go all in. They get those facial prosthetics to get each other's skin textures right, Wade goes in with makeup for detailing, and Wade wears a bodysuit while Logan wears slight platform shoes and shapewear to roughly match their builds.

They put on each other's suits and make sure the proportions are as accurate as possible. Wade even goes as far as to call in a few favors to get voice-changing abilities.

Then, Halloween, they pretend to be each other. They try to match each other's personalities and mannerisms and see if anyone can notice.

At first, you'd think it'd be obvious that they switched. But here's the thing: they know each other. Wade knows how Logan moves and talks and acts and fights. Logan knows how to predict Wade's moods and reactions and decisions. They're incredibly self-aware and in sync.

They both show up to their friend's Halloween party dressed as each other. The crowd is incredibly large because everyone invited all the people that they know, which includes Vanessa's new friends and the majority of the X-mansion.

The only person who knew off the bat was Laura. There was no hiding it from her with her sense of smell, but they didn't intend to. She was in on the joke and came to watch the shitshow in action.

When asked about their costume, "Wade" says that Deadpool is what all the kids want to dress up as for Halloween, and he was just following the trend! Besides, no need to waste money buying a costume when he has the best one right in his closet. He's the scariest to be, obviously, because Deadpool is such a fearsome name.

Logan matches Wade's pitch immaculately, curling his voice into a whine before going back to talking cheerily as if nothing happened. Nobody bats an eye, classic Wade behavior.

Any slight imperfections are hidden by the flashing lights and relaxed atmosphere and large crowd. It's hard to pick out their friends in a crowd, let alone tell the differences between their carefully crafted copycat plans.

Laura gets closer to "Logan" and asks him how "Wade" has been lately, playing along. He responds with a grunt and an exasperated but fond summary of Wade's newest hyperfixation, acting as if he didn't know any of the terminology for it.

She has to hide a shit-eating grin when some of the people who knew Logan from the X-mansion came up to greet him and ask him how he's been. Plan successful.

"Logan" reaches out and pats a few heads, lingering just long enough to show he cares but pulling away soon enough to avoid deep intimacy. He answers questions with the same gruff tone as the actual Logan, giving just enough information to satisfy their questions.

Miraculously, the night continues and they haven't been caught. This is quite frankly hilarious because the two had done their rounds with each other's friends and acquaintances and apparently knew enough about each other to answer accurately. It's a pretty big feat, and even Laura has to reluctantly admit she's impressed by how well they know each other to pull this off.

The two draw together near the end, bickering as usual and using each other's tactics. Wade has to stifle a giggle at Logan imitating his out to not break character, and Logan has to hold himself back from burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

The real challenge is when Vanessa comes in to greet "Wade," with her new boyfriend in tow. Because Logan knows how Wade should act: vaguely uncomfortable and awkward, cagey toward the new guy, with an undertone of yearning and regret.

He knows this, but it stings. It hurts to know that while Wade and him are living together, a part of Wade will always belong to Vanessa. He knows it's irrational and that he's the main person in Wade's life, but the thought of them together makes him feel vaguely nauseous.

But he promised Wade he'd try to do this with him. They'd made bets and everything about who would find out and who wouldn't. He didn't want to ruin his fun.

So Logan grits his teeth and shifts into character, acting a little tense but also relieved to see her. Acting a bit more closed off and tense when the new guy introduces himself, and a little embarrassed to be seen with "Logan." Guilty, almost, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

But Vanessa's expression isn't remorseful or awkward. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, crosses her arms, and asks him what's wrong. Tells him that something's clearly bothering him and that he knows he can come to her for anything.

Logan becomes confused. What was he doing wrong? Was he not giving her the "puppy dog eyes" convincingly enough? Was he not portraying the bittersweet feeling of seeing "the one who got away" well?

But then she asks him if he and "Logan" were fighting. If something was going wrong in their relationship for him to act so cagey and upset.

...And Logan is baffled. What the hell does them fighting have to do with this?

Until she continues. She tells him that she knows how much "Logan" means to him and that she knows Logan feels the same (it's obvious just in the way he looks at Wade), so she's sure they'll figure it out soon.

She chuckles and shakes her head and says that it's endearing how Wade constantly talks about Logan as if he's the only topic in the world. That she's glad he's happy and that she remembered him asking to meet her boyfriend at some point so he could "rate her taste." She pats his shoulder, placatingly, and tells him that she's always there to talk if anything happens. Then she leaves.

And oh.

Logan thought he had Wade's personality down to a science, that he knew almost everything about him. His thoughts, his feelings, his relationships. ...But apparently, he was wrong for once.

Then he takes a second to stand there and analyze his interactions with Wade. And he realizes that she was right. That Wade glancing constantly back at him when Vanessa was there wasn't awkward pining for his ex, but just Wade wanting to look at Logan.

Now that he thinks about it, Wade doesn't just do that around Vanessa. He did it around almost everyone. He'd intermittently glance at Logan with what he assumed to be embarrassment over him, but now he realizes it was endearment. Awe. Bashfulness and slight pride over getting to introduce Logan to his friends instead of being ashamed of him.

And Logan realized that maybe he didn't know everything about Wade. That maybe, some of his assumptions were based more on his own experiences and past rather than the present. That he let his jealousy and insecurity and anxiety cloud his interpretation until it became foggy, creating the same rough shape but without the structure.

...And Logan smiles, under the mask. A warm, incredulous thing. That Wade spent most of his time with Vanessa talking about him. That it was so obvious Wade loved him that everyone commented on it. He'd never had someone be proud of belonging to him before, showing him off like he was something worth coveting. It felt nice.

Eventually, he rejoined "Logan's" side. He sidled up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, throwing out a flirty comment and cuddling closer. "Logan" let him, letting his shoulder slump and wrapping an arm around him in return.

"Wade" stared at "Logan," watching his expressions shift and the curve of his lips as they moved. He let the adoration and wonder swell up in him, seeing how accurately Wade played the part.

It was obvious that he was staring, but nobody batted an eye. They all accepted it as normal, as if it was perfectly in character for Wade to stare at Logan with full focus even while people flitted and talked around them.

When Logan leaned in to kiss Wade's shoulder, nobody said anything.

(They manage to make it through the night without anyone calling them out on their impersonation. When they reveal it the next day, everyone is shocked. It was so realistic that they couldn't even tell.

Well, almost everyone is shocked. Laura rolls her eyes and Vanessa hides a knowing smile behind the rim of her coffee cup.)