#and it's finally seeing the light of day 😭😭

[yvesssssssss]

May i request a butler! Sakamoto days character with a princess reader? The scenario can be like the butler helping the princess out. Maybe like tying her corset for her or something.

Can the characters be shin, nagumo, natsuki, uzuki and shishiba ⁉️ the butler likes the princess ykyk

Thank youu

Butler! sakamoto days characters x princess! Reader

(nagumo, shin, uzuki, natsuki, shishiba)

When I saw this request, I was instantly reminded of Daughter of Evil and Servant of Evil, and I thought that Nagumo fits this idea perfectly😭

Nagumo yoichi

In the grand palace painted in blood-red curtains and golden chains, the tyrant queen reigned.

She was a vision in velvet and silk, seated on her throne with her chin tilted high, eyes cold with inherited cruelty—but to Nagumo, she was still the little girl who once offered him half a pastry under the rose garden arch.

"Another rebellion, huh?" he said with an easy smile, wiping blood off his gloves before kneeling. "Should I take care of them, my lady?"

You looked down at him, your so-called butler, assassin, and dog. "Eliminate them. Burn their farms. I don’t want another insect crawling toward my kingdom.”

"As you wish," he said, hand to heart, head bowed.

Because your wish was his law.

Because even if your crown was stained in sin, even if your people cursed your name—Nagumo would still kneel.

You didn’t know how far his devotion stretched.

You didn’t know that behind that ever-present grin, he gritted his teeth every time you ordered another execution.

But he never questioned you.

Not even when you demanded the destruction of an entire village for refusing to send tithes.

Not even when rumors started spreading that the people were coming to storm the palace.

“You’re being quiet,” you said one night, glancing at him as he fixed the ribbons of your corset.

Nagumo smiled faintly. “Just thinking how lovely you look in red.”

You smirked. “Of course I do. I was born to be loved, adored… feared.”

And he said nothing. Not even when your breath hitched softly—just a flicker of exhaustion, of loneliness, in your voice that no one else would’ve heard.

But he noticed. He always did.

So when the rebels finally came, marching to your gates with torches and pitchforks and blades screaming your name, it wasn’t you they found.

It was him.

Wearing your gown. Wearing your crown.

“They’ve come for you, Princess,” he said softly, the night before. “Let me be selfish this one time.”

You had screamed, begged, clawed at him.

He only smiled as he pulled the wig over his head, matching your cruel beauty to perfection.

“If it’s for you,” he said, voice almost breaking, “I’ll gladly be executed as the villain.”

The blade fell to the roar of a thousand voices.

And in the farthest corner of a foreign land, you sat in silence. No throne. No servants. No power.

Only a crumpled letter in your lap.

“If the world blames you, then let them. I’ll take your sins.

I was born… for this.”

Shin asakura

The morning breeze dances through your velvet-draped windows as you stand by the mirror in your chambers, the laces of your corset undone, your silk gown not yet fastened. You hear light footsteps in the hallway and call softly:

“Shin.”

He enters swiftly, straightening his black-and-white uniform. “Yes, Princess?”

There’s a nervous energy in him already—he’s always this way in the morning. You turn your back to him, your hands gathering your long hair over one shoulder.

“Help me tie it?”

He steps forward quietly. “Of course…”

You feel his breath hitch as he takes hold of the ribbons. His gloved hands shake ever so slightly, and in the mirror, you see the way his eyes glance—quickly—toward your bare shoulders before darting away in embarrassment.

“Tighter,” you say gently.

“Right. S-Sorry, I just…” he murmurs as he pulls the laces with more tension, careful not to hurt you. “I’m still not used to… seeing you like this. I mean—not that you shouldn’t—I mean—”

You giggle, amused at his fluster. “You’ve been my personal butler for three years, Shin. You should be used to dressing me.”

“I’ll never get used to you, Princess,” he blurts. “You’re… more beautiful each day.”

The words slip before he can stop them. He goes still.

Silence.

You look over your shoulder with the faintest smile. “You flatter me, Shin.”

He swallows, bowing deeply as he finishes the final knot. “I only speak the truth.”

He walks to the side, standing by your mirror now, avoiding your gaze.

“…Thank you,” you say. “You always make me feel safe.”

And that’s when he dares look at you, his expression soft. “That’s all I want, Your Highness.”

Natsuki seba

The first knock is featherlight.

The second is firmer, out of habit, but Natsuki still hesitates before opening your door with care—like the simple act of entering your chambers might crack the peace hanging in the air.

“Princess,” he says, his voice as neat and polished as the cuffs on his uniform, “I’ve brought your tea.”

You turn slightly, smiling at him from your spot at the edge of your chaise. Your dress is already half-laced, the corset slack against your back. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, voice tired and warm. “I couldn’t finish tying it. My lady-in-waiting was called away.”

He steps closer without missing a beat. “Allow me.”

He always says that—allow me—like asking permission for something he would do in a heartbeat, without question. It’s not just about duty with him. Never was.

You turn your back to him, brushing your hair to one side. The moment his fingers touch the ribbons of your corset, his breath hitches ever so slightly.

He’s meticulous. Silent. Pulling the silk taut with just enough pressure to keep you upright, but never hurt. You lean forward with a little sigh of relief, letting him adjust the fit.

“You’re always gentle,” you whisper.

His hands pause briefly. “…I would never harm you.”

“I know,” you say, and lean back slightly. “That’s why I can breathe when you’re here.”

That does something to him. You don’t see it—but his brows draw together. He swallows.

The final knot is tied neatly.

“I’ll bring your schedule once—”

But when he turns to look at you again, he stops.

You’re curled slightly against the chaise now, your chin resting delicately on your shoulder, eyes closed. Your chest rises and falls in a quiet rhythm, lips slightly parted in sleep.

You’d fallen asleep in the time it took him to finish lacing your corset.

Natsuki just stands there, staring.

It feels… strange.

He’s faced life-or-death situations with a steady hand, handled knives, measurements, and reports with precision. But now?

Now his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. Awkward. Hesitant.

He approaches slowly—quiet as falling snow—and kneels so that he’s level with you.

His voice is soft, lower than usual. “Princess?”

No answer.

He dares to reach out, fingers hovering just inches from yours where they rest against your skirts. His heart is pounding.

You trust him.

You trust him—enough to fall asleep, mid-conversation, with your back exposed and your breath slow and open. It makes his chest ache.

He gently drapes a shawl over your shoulders so you won’t catch a chill.

Then he just… sits beside the chaise. Eyes forward. Guarding you.

And maybe, just maybe, his hand lingers a little too long near yours—never touching, but almost.

Uzuki kei

Uzuki moves like a shadow: smooth, quiet, unshakable.

When he enters, he closes the door behind him with a soft click, then kneels with one hand over his heart.

“Princess.”

You nod, then wordlessly turn your back, exposing the undone corset.

“I apologize,” he says softly. “I should have anticipated your need.”

His hands—ungloved—begin tying the laces with such fluid precision, you barely feel the pressure change. The way he touches you feels reverent. His fingers glide along your skin with the gentlest intent, like a craftsman admiring his work.

“You don’t speak much these days,” you whisper.

“I find I have little to say,” he replies. “Except when I’m with you.”

You glance in the mirror. His eyes meet yours there—cool, sharp, yet softened by something he would never dare speak aloud.

“I was taught to serve with obedience,” he says after a moment. “But when it comes to you… I fear I’ve grown disobedient in my heart.”

You inhale sharply, but he continues before you can answer.

“I would burn this entire kingdom down if it meant keeping you safe.”

He ties the final knot. You turn to face him fully.

“You frighten me when you say things like that,” you murmur.

“I frighten myself,” he admits. “Because I mean every word.”

Shishiba

He arrives late—but you don’t scold him. Shishiba always moves on his own time. He doesn’t knock—he never does—just pushes open the door and walks in with a sigh.

“You really need someone else for this.”

“You do it best,” you answer simply.

He approaches, tugging off his gloves and stuffing them in his coat pocket. His sleeves are rolled up, his hands rough from training and weapon work. But when they touch your back, they’re gentle.

“You shouldn’t wear stuff like this. Can’t breathe right.”

“It’s required.”

“Stupid requirement,” he mutters, pulling the laces snug. His fingers move with ease—tug, loop, tie. No wasted motion.

There’s a long silence between you. The room feels heavier than usual.

“I saw you crying yesterday,” he says quietly. “In the garden.”

You freeze.

“I didn’t mean to. Wasn’t spying or nothin’. But… if you need to scream or cry or hit someone, don’t do it alone.”

Your voice shakes. “And if I do?”

“Then I’ll take it.” His voice is low. “All of it.”

He ties the last knot, hands resting on your back a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re stronger than anyone in this castle,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to be. Not with me.”

[thatlotuscookie]

omg hii i love ur writing so so much😭😭 literally hope u win the lottery or smth 😭 but can u do Woo jin-chul hcs with someone whose like shockingly really shy around other people but complete opposite with him? just fluff for my underrated king😞

✧･ﾟ: a/n: thank you thank you im so glad you enjoy reading ^_^ jin-chul is so handsome!! i really like his nose. anyway, enjoy :< ALSO GANG HOW IS THERE NO GIFS OF THIS GUY???

Woo Jin-Chul x !FemReader (introverted hcs)

Only Bold Around Him

Jin-Chul noticed it right away. Around others, you’re quiet—almost timid. You shrink back when people talk too loudly, and group conversations? You’re more likely to quietly nod than speak up. But the moment you’re alone with him? You’re teasing, giggling, even dramatic sometimes, and it always catches him off guard in the best way. He finds it adorable—the way you light up just for him.

He Never Pressures You in Public

He never tries to push you into being more outgoing in front of others. If you cling to his sleeve at a guild meeting, he gently lets you, shielding you as best he can. He’ll handle the talking, the social part—you just stick close. He gets that you don’t need to be “fixed,” just understood. And he’s proud to be the one person you feel completely safe around.

Softest Smiles Just for You

Obviously this man is known for being quiet and serious, but you’re the exception. Around you, his smile comes out more easily, more often. When you say something silly or when you whisper a joke only he can hear, he gives you this fond, secret smile—the kind no one else gets to see.

His Favorite Sound? Your Laugh

Especially when it comes out after you’ve been shy and quiet all day. When the two of you are finally alone and you flop onto the couch and start rambling about how insanely awkward you felt around everyone, he just listens with soft eyes and an arm slung around you. He loves hearing your voice go from shy whispers to unfiltered rants. To him, your laugh is gold.

Protective, But in a Quiet Way

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, but Jin-Chul is very aware of your discomfort around strangers. If you’re out in public and someone makes you uneasy, he steps between you and them without hesitation. He’s not loud about it—he just has that calm authority that makes people back off. And he always checks in with a subtle, “You okay?”

Takes You on Private Dates

No crowded restaurants or loud bars. He plans quiet rooftop dinners, cozy at-home movie nights, or peaceful walks through empty parks. Anything that lets you be yourself, without all the pressure. And he loves how you open up more and more with each one.

Proud to Be Your Safe Space

He treasures the fact that you trust him enough to drop the shy act and just be silly, clingy, affectionate—even chaotic sometimes. Whether it’s you making bad puns, jumping on his back like a koala, or dramatically fake crying because he stole your fries, he takes it all in stride. You’re his, and he wouldn’t want you any other way.

It was late by the time you and Jin-Chul got home from the guild gathering, and you were absolutely drained. The socializing, the forced smiles, the small talk—it took everything in you not to bolt out the door after the first hour.

The second the door shut behind you, you let out a dramatic groan and dropped face-first onto the couch.

"I'm never doing that again," you mumbled into a pillow. "Literally someone asked me what I do for fun and I panicked and said taxes. Taxes, Jin-Chul."

He chuckled softly behind you, loosening his tie and walking over. "I think that’s the worst thing you’ve said since you told that one guy you were ‘emotionally unavailable like a broken vending machine.’"

You popped your head up, fake-glaring. “That was a moment of brilliance, thank you very much.”

Jin-Chul just smiled, reaching down to brush your hair back gently. “You did great. I’m proud of you.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and rolled onto your back so he could sit beside you. “They all think I’m some weird antisocial mouse. Meanwhile you get the real me—chaotic goblin edition.”

“I like the chaotic goblin,” he said calmly, settling beside you and pulling you against him. “She’s my favorite.”

You snuggled into his side, voice muffled against his chest. “Good. ‘Cause I’m never going to be normal around you again.”

He chuckled again, rubbing slow circles into your back. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

And for the rest of the night, with your giggles echoing off the walls and your limbs tangled up on the couch, you let yourself be loud. Be playful. Be you—the version only he got to see.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[fumiko-matsubara]

Now who let these two in the kitchen together 💀🔥

[driftingballoons]

Day 6: Farewell

Imagining it takes Partner a while to feel comfortable letting Hero out of their sight

@heropartnerweek

[ghostpebble]

chat, please enjoy mariana trench/deep-sea serpent toothless :D

[rosurie]

.᧔•᧓

[apocalyptic-byler]

byler hiding in closets u will forever be famous

[bastardpacs]

PAC AND KARA BACK 🥹🥹🥹

MEL 😩💗💕💍!!!!!!! I still cannot believe he is back!!!!!! 🥹💞 You guys and Tha Bastad are the only one who can keep me on here!!!!!!!!! 💖✨🤛🏻😩

[cauldronoflove]

i was JOKINGGGGG i was joking when i said the final installment would be as long as the entire series to this point

[image id. two cropped screenshots. the first is of an ao3 series stats page, it reads on one line stats: and on the next line words: 27,273 works: 2. the second is of a microsoft word pop-up, it reads on one line statistics: and on the next line pages: 61 words 25,480. end id]

[phantomsies]

𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….

black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot

📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.

nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..

from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.

nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.

shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..

“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..

despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.

it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”

nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.

so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.

nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.

nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.

“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.

nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.

“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”

nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.

nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.

“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.

nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.

but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.

“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.

nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”

nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.

nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.

nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”

nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[villainology]

something hilarious to me abt how I’ve just randomly got the most ridiculous homelander brainrot n at 3am im sat feverishly writing down a few halfassed, half awake, disgustingly dramatic notes and paragraphs for a fic or something 😭

[beloveds-embrace]

part 2 of baker!reader + do not ever ask me to write accents lmao i suck at those 💀😭 and a huge thank you to all the sweet and dessert suggestions! i couldn't add all of them, but oh my god did i love all of them and choosing between them was sooo hard (that's what she said). if your dessert didn't make it here im soo sorry 😭

It was a quiet morning when you finally decided to reopen the bakery. The town had been whispering, speculating about the sudden disappearance of your husband—tragic, they said, to be found mauled by a bear in the woods. You hadn’t shed a tear, hadn’t flinched at the news. Maybe that was cruel of you, but after what you had endured, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for him anymore. Not fear, not sadness—just relief.

And now, with the bakery open once again, you felt lighter. Freer.

The 141 boys were there first thing, as you had hoped. Each one walking into the cozy space like they belonged there. Their heavy, winter boots made the wooden floors creak, their towering frames somehow making the space feel intimate rather than intimidating. You smiled as the familiar smell of fresh bread and sugar lingered in the air, the warmth of the ovens cocooning you and the rest of the bakery in comfort. Free from that terrible man you’d called a husband, it was as if the world itself was taking on a more vibrant color.

“Morning, sweetheart,” John greeted you, his eyes crinkling beneath his hat, though there was something watchful in his gaze.

“Bonnie,” Johnny chirped, leaning on the counter, his eyes sparkling as they usually did when he spoke to you. “Place smells heavenly as always.”

“You’re open today, huh?” Kyle said, grinning as he eyed the display of pastries lined up neatly behind the glass. “Missed our favorite baker, honestly.”

Simon didn’t say anything at first, just gave you a long, steady look from behind his mask. You knew he had seen the signs. He was the only one who had seen the bruises, had taken your hands so gently that day and whispered that promise. You hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t said anything in return, but you had trusted him all the same. You are glad you did. You are so glad it’d been him to see.

Now, as you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped out from behind the counter, your heart was lighter than it had been in months. “Everything’s on the house today,” you said, your smile wider than it had been in ages. “For you guys, at least. After all… I’ve got a few new things for you to try.”

Soap raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that so? Then we’re in for a treat, eh boys?”

You went back to the counter, pulling out a few trays and plates, your hands moving quickly as you started setting them down in front of the men, watching their eyes light up at the spread. “I’ve been experimenting,” you said, your voice light, almost teasing. “For John, I’ve got pecan pie. Thought you might like it—something a bit rich, a bit warm.” Like you, goes unsaid but you hoped he still heard it.

John’s eyes gleamed as he accepted the slice you placed in front of him. “Always knew you were a mind reader,” he murmured with a chuckle, cutting into the pie and taking a bite. The smile that spread across his face was slow, but appreciative.

“For you, Kyle, lemon meringue tarts. Something sharp, refreshing. A little tangy,” you said, setting the plate in front of him. “And a bit sweet, too. Had a feeling you’d like it!”

Kyle laughed, picking up the tart and admiring it at first. “You know me too well.” He took a bite, his eyes widening at the burst of lemon on his tongue and then groaning in delight. “Perfect, as always.”

Simon watched you closely, and when you placed a plate of apple fritters in front of him, his gaze softened just slightly. “Made these with you in mind,” you said, your voice gentle. “Thought you’d appreciate something classic, Si. Simple, but comforting.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just nodded in that way of his, taking the fritter in his gloved hand. When he took a bite, his eyes closed briefly, and you could see the silent approval in the way his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.

“And for you, Johnny,” you giggled, setting down a small bowl of Cranachan in front of him. “Thought you might like something traditional- whisky, raspberries, oats, and cream. Feels like a bit of home, doesn’t it? At least I hope so. It was my first time making it.”

Johnny beamed all the same, eagerly reaching for a spoon. “Ah, bonnie, you’re spoiling us.”

But it wasn’t just them you were thinking of. You had made a fresh batch of focaccia bread for yourself, but this wasn’t just any bread- it was bold, spiced with rosemary and topped with chilli flakes and garlic. It was a reflection of your own newfound boldness. You’d been quiet, subdued for so long. Now, you wanted to feel alive again.Perhaps it might seem corny, but this focaccia bread meant to signify that for you.

You set a slice of the focaccia on a plate for yourself, taking a bite as you sat with them, your smile not faltering for a second. It was savoury- settling warmth in your stomach. “I think this might be my new favorite, actually.” you said with a soft laugh. In your mind, you were already thinking of making and selling more of it.

They didn’t say much in response, still tasting their own desserts, but you could feel their appreciation, their understanding, in the quiet way they accepted it.

The rest of the bakery was alive with the smell of freshly baked treats: rich brownies, soft sugar cookies, fluffy cronuts, and delicate eclairs. Tres leches cakes sat next to pumpkin pies, while apple and custard empanadas filled the air with their sweet, warm scent. Cheesecakes, cardamom rolls, strawberry lamingtons—the selection was almost overwhelming, but everything sold well. Especially the bear claw pastries. You smiled softly to yourself at the irony. The bearclaw pastries might also be your new favorite, right alongside the focaccia.

Johnny noticed it immediately, the little twitch of your lips, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny, bonnie?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. “Oh, nothing. Just… the bear claws. They’ve been selling really well lately. Thought it was… fitting.”

Simon’s eyes flicked to you, then to the bear claw pastries sitting neatly in a display case. A slow understanding crossed his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Just a slight nod, the corner of his mouth twitching, the silent acknowledgment of the truth that you all shared. You had no doubt the others knew about it as well- maybe even had a hand in it. Such incredible men.

And for the first time, standing in your bakery, surrounded by warmth and the quiet camaraderie of the men you had come to trust, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The past was behind you. Now, you had a future to look forward to—one filled with new beginnings, layers to unfold like a mille-feuille crepe cake, and the quiet reassurance that you were no longer alone.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” you said, raising your cup of coffee, your smile bright and genuine.

The boys raised their cups in return, their expressions soft but full of unspoken promises. “To new beginnings,” they echoed, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. Especially because you could see the way they were looking at you.

masterpost

[sunlitide]

watching the tlou2 lost levels rn and it has me in tears 😭 i miss ellie so bad she’s everything to me she’s my boyfriend

[dannyriccsystem]

i swear im in love w your posts and your account 😭 the way you write the drivers feels rly accurate, i had an idea for an au after i saw that video w the papaya boys looking down at the camera w their helmets on so maybe something about reader telling the drivers to 'sleep' w them only wearing their helmets 🙂‍↕️hehe no pressure 🧡

THE HELMET STAYS ON.

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: Begging the drivers to nail you with their helmet on. And they do.

Warnings: Pure smut, Y/N usage, P in V, foreplay, reader has a tongue piercing in one of them, hair pulling, blowjob, the whole nine yards. Basically really filthy. Also not proofread because it was embarrassing enough just writing this.

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, CS55, OP81

This video. Oh my days. I have nothing appropriate to say.

One more before I sleep. I’m kind of scared to post this, this is my first super out there post.

(Do feel free to request risqué stuff idm!)

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

“Let me get this straight,” Your boyfriend stood in front of you as you sat, prettily perched on the edge of the bed with an innocent smile, despite what you just asked. “You,” He pointed to you. “Want me,” and then to himself. “To fuck you. With the helmet on.” He raised both of his brows.

You looked off to the side, and then back at him, nodding. “Sounds about right, yeah.” You confirmed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but with a sigh… He reluctantly gave in. Anything for his beloved girlfriend, I guess.

“M-ahhh-x,” You groaned out his name, nails desperately clawing at his bare back for some sort of leverage. Your legs were quivering as he slowly thrusted into you, his hips moving in such a hypnotic way. Even off the track, his pace was consistent, apparently.

All of his skin was exposed, every last inch, except for his face. It was covered by his iconic helmet design, the visor pulled down to conceal the expression in his eyes. You were certain they were darkened with lust, but had no proof of it.

His hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up to get an even deeper angle. Your legs wrapped around him weakly, trying to pull him in closer. At this point, you could barely move them.

He brought his helmeted face down closer to your ear, the sound of his voice deliciously muffled by the soft casing surrounding his head, “You asked for this, lieverd.” You whined out at his typical pet name, which sounded so dirty now. You were unsure if you’d ever be able to see your boyfriend in an innocent light ever again.

Your hands grabbed both sides of his helmet, mouth drawn open in an ‘O’ as you weakly moaned for him. The sweet sounds motivated him further, allowing him to draw out his final thrusts. He pulled out, hands stroking his length as you pressed soft kisses to the surface of his helmet.

He came on your stomach. With one hand, Max lifted the visor while the other gentle traced a heart onto your cum-coated belly.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

“Danny?” You came out of his bedroom one day, finding him relaxed on the couch. He leaned his head over to look at you, motioning for you to continue. In your hands was the cause of confusion— His old racing helmet. The last one he ever wore, to be exact.

It was a black helmet with a sparkly flame that shined different colors depending on the lighting. You remembered him wearing it in Singapore, the last race he ever competed in. It probably held a lot of special memories. “Do you use your old helmets for anything? I see you have a few in our room.”

“Hmm, nah. Mostly just decoration.” He shrugs and turns to sit with one leg folded underneath him, the other hanging over the edge of the couch. His elbows were propped on the back as he stared at you. “Why?” He smirked almost like he could see the gears turning.

“Wanna have sex with one on?” The answer was always yes.

It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, in the best way possible. Nothing could have prepared you for the animal that your boyfriend would become upon exploding this new area of your sex lives.

He had one of your legs pushed in the air, resting over his shoulder, which allowed him more space to thrust experimentally. The other laid on the side of his thigh, your hips held up by his free hand to get a better angle. You propped yourself up on your elbows, head slightly angled down while you stared through damp lashes.

“Fuck, Danny…” You whined, your hips twitching with a little gasp. He groaned, his head falling forward until the helmet was carefully pressed against your forehead. His grip on your raised thigh was tight, practically digging into your skin to keep himself from going feral.

“Feel that?” He muttered, his voice enveloped in the cushy walls of his helmet. The hand that held you up at the waist circled around, palm pressing down on your stomach to emphasize the slight bulge. He cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering and his dick twitching. “Shit.”

He leg your leg fall against the mattress as he carefully slipped out. One hand massaged your sore folds, bringing you to your peak just as he reached his. You both climaxed together, your thighs painted with his arousal.

He carefully lifted the helmet, still panting as he looked down at the mess he made. “Satisfied?” He asked, voice hoarse. You grinned, eyes droopy.

“Very.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

There was something special about Lando in his signature green helmet. The helmet itself was bland, but it was his staple. When he wore it, it was unimaginably attractive to you.

You tried to ignore it, but during one of his week long breaks, you decided to address the issue upfront. It was a hard topic to approach, so you figured now was a good time to be as blunt as possible.

“I want to fuck you while you wear your helmet.” Literally. As blunt as possible.

He looked taken aback, and rightfully so. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…” He asked next. It was hard to discern what sort of face that was supposed to be. Confusion? Disgust? Arousal? All three at once?

“Because it’s hot.”

He fell silent, and then pulled you into his room where the helmet in question sat, like it was ready for this moment.

“Not so confident now, are you?” His husky voice murmured in your ear. You were currently bent over with your hands against his bedroom door to support yourself, your ass stuck out against him. All while your legs trembled. If one of his hands wasn’t supporting you under your stomach, you’d have collapsed by now.

Strong hands gripped your hair, tugging your head backwards to get a good look at your fucked out expression, and your stretched neck that was littered with deep purple marks. All you could do was softly cry out in pleasure as a reply to his question, which earned a dark chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Regretting your choice yet?” You shook your head with teary eyes. You couldn’t see his face, cloaked beneath the secrecy of a bright green racing helmet, but you knew for a fact he was smirking. Every thrust was carried out confidently, sending a resounding smack through the room. The sounds were sticky from the buildup of arousal.

“Laan,” You drawled out his name, eyes twitching as you struggled to keep them open. You could feel another orgasm approaching— Just one of many for the night. “P-Please—”

“Please what?” Another tug of the hair, making you whimper. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Let me cum,” You whined, your voice trembling. He continued silently for another thrust or two before the hand on your stomach traveled down to massage your clit, sending you over the edge. You squealed out, lurching forward to rest against the door.

He pulled his throbbing length out, releasing onto your back. With a heavy, satisfied sigh, Lando scooped you up and gently laid you on his mattress, littering your aching body with kisses upon the removal of his helmet.

“You did so good for me.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles and you had been together for a while, and it was safe to say you knew your way around each other’s bodies. However, neither of you quite knew the other’s mind.

It was hard to pinpoint the specific kinks and such. If you were both paying attention you could figure out the little things you liked— For example, Charles liked kitten licks on the tip, and he loved you in red lingerie. And you liked sensual sex with romance and eye contact.

However, there was something you had never been able to admit until now. “Can you keep the helmet on for tonight?” He blinked at your question, already half naked and hovering over you, who was… Entirely naked.

“Keep the helmet on?”

“Yeah. Just to try it out.”

It didn’t take much convincing.

The entire experience changed when the helmet came on. Maybe you were expecting him to take a dominant stance, but it seemed as soon as the mask came on he was a whining and stuttering mess.

Charles was propped up on his elbows as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself further onto his impaled cock. He couldn’t even form a sentence, just desperately grip your hips and occasionally involuntarily thrust up into your tight heat. He was thankful for the helmet, actually. That way you couldn’t see his pathetic expression.

“Feels good,” You praised, your voice like honey. He squeezed the fat of your hips tighter, both of his index fingers anxiously tapping against your skin. He wasn’t normally so… Submissive like this.

You reached out, lifting the visor of his helmet to unveil his eyes. Just his eyes, that’s all you could see, but they told you exactly what you needed to know. With furrowed brows and a watery gaze, he made direct eye contact with you.

His hands traveled to find yours, squeezing them tight while you rode him. He could barely ground himself, but your steady presence certainly helped. “Y/N-” He finally managed to splutter out, his legs twitching and his hips jerking.

“Shh, you’re okay,” You whispered, moving your hips faster. “You got it, you’re doing great.” At your praise, he seemed to lose it, spilling deep inside you.

His body collapsed against the mattress, leaving you to carefully lift his helmet and brush his damp hair away from his eyes.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You came home from a stressful day to your boyfriend standing in the dining room, examining his racing helmet under the light. “What are you doing?” You questioned softly as you set your things down on the table.

Her flinched, but relaxed as soon as he realized it was just you, and there was no need to be worried. “Just thinking.” You raised your brow as if asking ‘about?’ He showed you the helmet, and you just shrugged with a lack of understanding. “I want to fuck you with it on.”

You blinked at his forwardness, your gaze shifting from the helmet, and then to him. “If you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind.”

Sex with Carlos was typically slow and sensual, just what you needed after a long day.

Not this time.

He had you folded in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Your knees were pressed to your chest, hands gripping the sheets as he fucked into you in your folded position. He hovered over you, one hand on the headboard and the other on the curve of your ass.

He grunted, but most of the noise was coming from you. “C-… Carlos!” You yelped, surprised by the change in tone. Your eyes twitched, threatening to roll back into your skull. You tried to swallow your moans, but it was impossible to keep silent.

He suddenly grabbed both of your hands, bringing them up to hold your own legs back. He busied his digits with your hole. Two fingers circled your needy clit, making your legs ache and shake. The other two slid right in with his cock, plunging in and out in a rhythmic manner.

“Feel good?” He questioned in that thick accent, ensuring your comfort over all. You couldn’t form a coherent response, leaving you to just nod a silent yes.

It seemed like ages he toyed with your poor hole, but finally he pulled free and let himself release onto your stomach. You let your legs fall to the mattress, twitching occasionally. Both of you panted as he removed the helmet, sweat dripping from his forehead. His hair was beautifully messy.

“That was…” He trailed off.

“Hot,” You finished for him.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

You had been giggling to yourself all day as you stared at your phone. It was beginning to make Oscar anxious as he automatically assumed the worst. With sudden steeled courage, he decided to confront you.

“What have you been looking at? You haven’t stopped laughing at your phone.” His tone was calm, but inside he was slightly panicked. That is, until you turned the phone around to show him an edit. Of himself.

He had seen a few of them. Ever since him and Lando filmed that video showing off their helmets, the fans had been going crazy. “What about it?” He tilted his head, not unlike the way he did in said video. Your ovaries basically exploded.

“Do you have your helmet?” He nodded. “Put it on.”

Well, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

This… Wasn’t exactly what Oscar had been expecting. He knew you had something filthy in mind, but to suck him off while he was wearing nothing but his helmet was a little absurd, even for you.

Thankfully, he accepted the freak in you.

Your tongue darted out to give his tip a little lick, the cold metal of your tongue piercing making him twitch. He shuddered, a deep groan leaving his lips. Without even thinking, his hands grabbed the back of your head. However, he relaxed before making any sharp movements, and let it rest there for now.

You experimented further, plump lips encasing his whole tip, cheeks hollowing experimentally. He groaned, head tilted back momentarily. You looked at him through your lashes, giggling around his length when he peered back down, the movement unbearably attractive in your eyes.

You placed your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, and slowly took more of him in. He tried to keep quiet, but he could only bite back so many groans before they started to flood out. As your pace increased, his grip on the back of your head did, too.

Eventually, you weren’t even moving anymore. He was just full on face fucking you to get himself off, and you didn’t care. You let your mouth be used by your boyfriend, whose hips were jerking in and out in a spontaneous rhythm.

He finally came to a stop, his length twitching as he pulled it out. Half of his seed was shot onto your face, while the rest was expertly aimed for your mouth.

He was breathing heavily as he lifted the helmet, peering down at you with a heaving chest. “Holy shit.”

That was by far the most emotion anyone had ever gotten out of him.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSTAY WITH ME WHILE I SHOWER? * MATT STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N can't take a shower alone after watching supernatural videos, and now Matt has to stay with her in the bathroom.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　No.

WARNINGS　::　Mentions of supernatural.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I had this idea yesterday after spending the whole day listening to supernatural stories and making my best friend stay on FaceTime with me while I showered 😭

The bathroom was filled with the sound of rushing water, steam curling against the mirror, making everything look hazy and soft. Y/N stood beneath the shower, arms wrapped around herself, shampoo barely lathered in her hair. Her heart pounded just a little too fast, and her mind raced with the worst possible scenarios.

She knew - knew - this was her own fault. Matt had told her so many times that watching scary videos late at night, alone, with the lights off, would mess with her head. But did she listen?

No.

Because she loved that eerie, spine-tingling feeling. The adrenaline rush. The way she’d clutch her blanket and gasp when Sam and Colby on YouTube suddenly heard something, or the guys who explored abandoned places on TikTok suddenly saw something.

It was all fun and games until she was here, alone in the shower, vulnerable, eyes closed, and suddenly convinced that if she dared to tilt her head back and rinse the shampoo out, she’d open her eyes to see something - someone - standing in the corner of the bathroom.

Her stomach dropped.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

She blinked, body rigid, the water running down her back, making her shiver despite the heat. Her mind was running wild. What if she wasn't alone in here? What if something was watching her right now, peeking from behind the steam in her shower door like in those cursed Reddit stories?

Nope.

Panic bubbled up in her chest. And before she could second-guess herself, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled.

"MATT!"

In the living room, Matt was sprawled on the middle of the couch, manspreading, one arm slung over his stomach. Nick sat beside him while Chris was practically hanging off the side of the couch, eyes glued to the TV. They were watching some random movie chosen by Nick, and Matt was only half paying attention.

At least, until Y/N’s scream ripped through the house.

His whole body jolted.

"What the-"

Nick and Chris both turned their heads toward the hall that led to Matt's bathroom.

Chris smirked, looking at Nick.

"Bet you fifty bucks she forgot her towel again."

Nick huffed out a laugh.

"Easiest money of my life."

"MATT!"

Matt was already getting up.

"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming!"

Chris called after him.

"If it’s the towel, tell her she owes me fifty bucks!"

Matt ignored him, crossing the small space between the living room and their bathroom in a couple of steps. The door was shut, steam curling out from the crack beneath it.

Matt pushed it open a little, peeking his head inside while keeping his body outside.

The steam made his hair frizz slightly as he squinted through the haze, his eyes finding Y/N standing under the shower, arms hugging herself.

His brows furrowed.

"Babe? You good? You need a towel or something?"

Y/N’s eyes darted to him, and her voice came through, desperate.

"Can you come in here?"

Matt frowned deeper.

"What?"

"Matt, please."

With a sigh, he finally pushed the door open fully, stepping inside and closing it behind him.

The heat hit him immediately, steam wrapping around his body as he turned to face the shower properly.

And there she was.

Standing directly under the water, arms still clutching herself, her hair up, full of white bubbles from her shampoo, looking at him like he was her last hope for survival.

Matt blinked.

"Angel, what the hell are you doing?"

Y/N let out a frustrated whine.

"I’m scared!"

Matt squinted.

"Scared? Of what?"

"Something is watching me!"

A beat of silence.

Then, he snorted.

"Oh my God."

Y/N groaned, stomping one foot on the shower floor.

"Matt, I’m serious! I can’t even close my eyes to rinse my hair! I swear there's eyes everywhere."

Matt was grinning now, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble sink, watching her like she was the most ridiculous person he’d ever seen.

"I told you not to watch that shit."

Y/N pouted.

"I know."

Matt’s grin widened.

"But you just had to, huh?"

She huffed, turning away from him dramatically.

"Shut up."

Matt shook his head, still very much amused, before sighing and plopping down on the closed toilet seat.

"Alright, go on. Shower. I’ll sit here so the demons don’t get you."

Y/N’s whole body relaxed instantly, turning the front of her body to face him again, smiling softly.

"Thank you."

Matt leaned forward, elbows on his knees, still grinning like an idiot.

"Can't believe you're literally scared of shampooing your hair. This is crazy."

She shot him a glare, grabbing her vanilla-scented shampoo bottle and squirting some more into her palm.

"I hate you."

Matt chuckled.

"No, you don't."

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"I really do."

"Mhm."

She rubbed her palms to spread the product, finally closing her eyes, but before she could reach for her hair again, she peeked at Matt one last time. Just to make sure he was still there.

And he was.

Sitting on the toilet seat, arms crossed, bright blue eyes eyeing her like she was the most ridiculous, adorable, overdramatic person in the world.

And maybe she was.

But at least now, she could wash her hair in peace.

© vanteguccir