#and that you won’t experience it ever again either

[calebrity]

separation anxiety

⤷ caleb experiences a rut after a long time, and it just so happens that you’re in his path.

cw. 18+ smut, hybrid! caleb, knotting, dubcon if you squint, breeding, obsessive/possessive behavior, perv caleb, fem human! reader, ruts, size difference, also a lil breeding, 3.5k words because i physically struggle to write smut without a preamble, reader is ovulating and it triggers his rut this time for whatever reason

an. saw this trope going around & wanted to try it <33 he’s got that DAWG in him 💪 also i cant decide if hybrid caleb gives german shepherd vibes or samoyed vibes…. that moments post lives rent free in my mind tho idk (>_<)

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, & 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! (๑´ `๑)♡

Caleb would say he hates you for the time you’re gone, but it’d be a big fat lie. His love for you, big and bursting in his chest, deepens in the quiet windows where you’re present at work or running errands throughout Linkon before returning home to him.

There’s a permanence of you in his mind and being. He wants it no other way.

His devotion for you doesn’t necessarily drown him- no, you’re always there with a lifering waiting- but it certainly sweeps him up and threatens to.

He gets a bit ahead of himself sometimes, he’s aware of that; energetic, bulging at the seams with vigor; whether it’s an integral part of his personality or just a consequence of his breed, the pound he came from never quite knew. Your Gran never figured that out, either, and for as sweet and trying as she was, she soon realized she couldn’t foster him for long.

Because he was a big boy, hungry for attention and wired to please, well-meaning but oft over involved with personal space— and he brought a loaded package that your Gran just couldn’t sign her name off on, not after a few months, anyway. She tried her best before nudging him into your care, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give him up to that squalid pound or the streets again- and besides, the mutt liked her granddaughter; all those visits she paid throughout the summer obviously endeared Caleb to her, and quickly.

You admit, it’s a mite difficult to juggle between long days at work, little tasks that drag you from point to point throughout Linkon, and your own personal life on top of caring for a hybrid stowed away in your shoebox apartment— but your grandmother was all but sapped of her energy then, turning to you for aid although she seldom ever did, and you’d always lend a hand where you could.

The mutt- Caleb, is his name (and you call it fondly even as he’s pawing at your thighs for attention or drooling on your collar)- has grown on you considerably in the past half year, anyway.

You won’t let him down or leave him at the curb. He’s yours. The red collar you bought him says as much, printed with your number on a silver plate, and he wears it not because you make him but because he’s proud of it.

He’s a good boy, he is. He always has been and for that you’re thankful.

Except, this week he’s… different.

As of a few days ago, it’s like he’s been testing the waters- and your patience- on just how far he can go before you tell him off or say bad dog. He must find them warm because he’s just been diving deeper as the week progresses.

You don’t know what to do. He’s oddly aggressive. It’s not rare at all for him to follow you all around your apartment, but he’s foregone the very last shred of respect for your personal space and nips when you try to push him away. Not hard enough to actually hurt- the yip you make is more surprised than anything when he pulls you back in and licks at the small red patch- but you look wounded at it.

Because Caleb doesn’t bite— he just doesn’t.

He wraps you up in seemingly endless embraces and breathes your smell in until he’s dizzy, laughing into your neck like a giddy child. He does this every time you try to leave for work and he’s made you late for it.

Maybe it’s just because you’re ovulating and a little hormonal, but it makes you quite sour and the mood stays even when you return in the afternoon. He’s never liked when you’re gone, sure, but he’s always been there to see you off at the door with a pout as you scratch behind his ear- more or less tame about it.

Your patience really frays at the odd uptick in his possessiveness, though. It’s hurtful.

You’ve always treated him less like a pet- a hybrid- and more like a friend, and you feel quite indignant for it when he growls and tells you that he hates the smell of other men on you, hearing none of your excuses that it’s ‘just coworkers’, glaring at you like some brainless extension of him. You feel less like a person and more like an object, a streetlamp in which he emerges from the shadows for just to piss on to show it belongs to him.

He’s touchy. Snippy. Glued to your side at all times. It’s concerning and frustrating and confusing all at once.

By the fifth day mark, on Friday night, you’re tuckered out by it and don’t question where he is when you return home early from a shift and he’s, uncharacteristically, not there to greet you.

A red collar however, laid on the floor, its tag glittering under dim hallways lights, strikes you as both curious and unsettling.

He never takes that off. No- says it’s his way of showing you and the whole world that he belongs to you, and— have you been too impatient with him lately? Brusque? Maybe you’re a little hormonal but it’s no cause to get short with him, even when he’s acting up, and what if he no longer wants you as his owner—

A gasp.

You find him in your bedroom, humping your pillow, yowling as he comes undone- unawares- and the walls spin as you nearly faint.

You drop your purse. “Caleb!” You shriek, and a visible shiver rolls down his spine as he turns around.

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

Well, you wash your sheet and your pillowcases- and then you sleep on it.

Maybe you overreacted. If anything, you should be grateful for what you walked in on because otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to tell you he’s been going through a bit of a hot phase- the first of his you’ve experienced- and doesn’t know how to control himself.

You blush just thinking about it, shame knocking in your chest as your heart beats heavy. You feel awful for walking in on him for a number of reasons. One of them being he came all over your bed- and his tummy- and you had to clean both up through furious tears as you peeled your covers off the mattress and pointed him off in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to run the faucet and quick.

A pass of guilt, the fear of you being angry with him, made its round across his kicked expression but he held off on arguing.

For the first documented time in the whole week, Caleb appeared mellow- not agitated, restless, or tense- and rather crestfallen, and you noted it only vaguely as you irately turned on the washer.

Now, it’s in the forefront of your brain.

Well, if he’s been going through some kind of rut lately, it only makes sense he’d be all kinds of pent up, and that his release (albeit in an inconvenient way and place) would provide some relief.

It’s closer to noon when you finally exit your bedroom and meet him at the sofa- the same one you’d all but banished him to last night. He prefers to spend his nights with you, either curled up at your side or splaying his full weight over your back- a breed-relative habit, you’re sure. You’ve heard of some other kinds who enjoy a room to themselves or do just fine with the couch, on their lonesome— But not Caleb.

He looks tired but perks up when he hears you patter down the hall, violet eyes lighting when you timidly take a seat.

With a bit of hesitation, he inches closer until you sheepishly wave a hand and he barrels into your arms.

“Ah- Caleb-“

Before you can even apologize for your jumping the gun last night, he beats you to the punch. “M’ sorry. You don’t hate me for it, do you?” He sighs into your collar and you shiver, “I wish you could understand what it feels like- I wouldn’t have done it if it was somethin’ I could control, I hope you realize that.”

You swallow, digesting his words as you belatedly place a hand on his head to pet. He positively melts. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble back. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to say sorry too. I- I didn’t understand what was going on…”

A deep groan looses from his throat, his chest swelling with content as you itch that spot behind the furry ears say upright on his head. They give a few twitches as he leans against you and wraps his muscular arms around your middle, resting his chin by your shoulder.

“It’s my fault, though, not yours. I didn’t know how to tell you- I was worried you’d just end up scared’a me, or…”

His pause instills interest in you. Your fingers smooth back his brown locks, mussed from fitful sleep, and he sighs. “Or what?” You press softly.

You pull him back just enough to get a look at him, his cheekbones almost shiny with a dusting of pink. His thick brows furrow together.

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen. You lasso your arms around his neck and pull him to you, your head slotting above his shoulder as his fingers quickly move to support the position, one hand perched at your thigh and the other braced at your side.

“Nonsense,” you grumble at his ear, a bit angry at the suggestion. “I’d never leave you.”

Something hard, then, prods at your middle- too fleshy to be something in either of your pockets- and you stiffen at the realization as it comes a beat too late.

Caleb’s voice is breathy at your ear, low, his tail thumping on the cushion. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a pang of heat stirring in your belly at the sound. Suddenly aware, you gently go to push at his broad chest but he stops you with an imploring look- although the desire, brewing in dilated pupils, isn’t lost on you- and musters a pout.

It looks out of place, the wholesome gaze marred by hunger as it reshapes his puppyish look.

“Even when I am no better than a bad dog?”

Your brow quirks, “I didn’t mean it,” you whisper, wide-eyed as his eyes bore into yours. Every micro expression you make is being catalogued and noted with utmost care, his pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as they grow dry.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs back. “I’m just glad I have you around to remind me of my place…” Long, slim fingers reach up and you watch, unseeingly, as they stroke your cheek, his other hand creeping dangerously close to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

“Otherwise, I’d always be misbehaving. Do you even know what you do to me?” His voice is meaningful, torrid, as he draws in and the tip of his nose brushes with yours. You can’t find it in you to move as your thighs- the ones he slithers a singleminded hand in between- begin to roil with unexpected warmth.

You plant a hand to his chest, shying away, “C-Caleb-“

“Don’t worry,” he says sweetly, “M’ not gonna hurt you. I just….” He lets out a sigh, long and perhaps just a bit exaggerated- but it has the intended effect on you. You purse your lips and feel a trace of guilt twist in your heart.

“You drive me crazy. Y-Your smell- I don’t know why this is happening, either. Honestly? I haven’t had a rut in a couple years. But this…”

Caleb lets out a soft noise of pleasure, lending his full weight to you when he breathes you in and shakes.

When he speaks next, his words come out raspy and so low you hardly register them as his breaths grow labored- they’re all you can hear as the living room space shrinks down to just him and the knuckles that dare to dip into your panties.

“This is just too unfair. You won’t leave me hangin’, pretty,… w-will you?” Breathy. With an undeniable streak of need. You can’t miss the lust that usurps the softer parts of him and makes him look less puppyish and cheerful and more wolfish, calculating.

And, well, when he puts it like that, how could you?

✦

He doesn’t fuck you on the couch. He takes you to your bed and fucks you there like a lover would.

He fucks you deep and fast- to his credit, he doesn’t hurt you, staying true to his word, but the possibility of bruises becomes a nearer thing when he folds your legs back and his grasp becomes constricting, plunging in and out of your cunt with rapt focus. Indigo eyes glow with something feral, like you’ve given him no choice but to claim his ownership over you through sloppy kisses and clinking teeth as he pounds into you, driven him into a corner- but his touch turns worshipful when he presses his forehead to yours and moans.

“Ah- y-you feel so good, so tight,” he compliments, words almost slurred. His pupils expand and he looks no different than a drunken, babbling man, his cheeks a rosy red.

His murmurs are wet against your lips as they graze and mush with his, Caleb’s face so close to yours that his lashes tickle your brow as he gawks at you, so entranced by whatever it is he’s seeing to look away.

A fluffy tail sways unevenly behind him and touches your leg on occasion, almost like it’s trying to curl around you, prickling and eager. Every part of him gravitates to you. You’re the ground beneath his feet. Fertile land.

“And you’re all mine, okay? Nobody else’s. I want you to wear my scent- to carry me with you no matter where you go. You have to promise me you will- mmph- That sound good-?

“C-Caleb—“

You groan when he stuffs himself deeper inside and you swear you feel his length throb inside your walls, stretching. The veins running along his shaft carve out a new pathway in you, one special and just for him, as his balls- heavy and fat, with a hell of a lot to give- slap against your ass. Slick oozes out from the squelching seam of you, coating his thick cock but you still struggle to accomodate his size despite the lubrication.

He’s made to make you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You snatch your jaw with your own hand to keep the flurry of high-pitched sounds from spilling out lest they embarrass you, but he shoos it away and cuffs your wrists with a hand splayed over them.

“Nah- I wanna hear you, baby. You can’t keep holdin’ out on me like this... I’m giving you my all right now, so it should be pretty obvious that you can do the same, yeah?”

A mewl punches out from your lungs half a second later and he seems quite contented at that. He sighs, closing his eyes, saying,

“I’ve been good all along. Can’t you play the part, too? I just want you to see how much I really love you,” his confession is by no means considered casual what with the passion in which its conveyed, but you can’t help but feel it’s a little sudden, said a little too quickly, and you wonder if he means what he says or if the rut is responsible for all these novel, amorous feelings in him.

I mean, he’s probably too wrapped up in the moment to even contemplate his own admissions as they all spew out—

“Caleb, too big—“ you gasp, cutting him off, and he lets out a strangled kind of noise when your walls clamp around him.

Holyfuck holyfuck holyfuck do it again, he wants to say, suffocate me, but nothing comes out and he realizes after a long second that his vision has whited completely. He can’t see anything; he’s in a fuzzy, dazzling world with the blinders on and all he can smell and feel is you- your scent, sugar sweet and about as inviting as a barstool pulled out, envelopes him and he can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, huffs you in like it’s his final breaths, and then lets it all go without care for anything else. Far as he’s concerned, everything he knows is defined by you. This is a give and take relationship: he actually gives a damn about your opinion of him and takes all you have to offer.

He’s in love, puppyish and clumsy but fuck you lead the way and lead him on.

“Shh, I know,” he rasps out, steaming up your neck like a fogged window pane as he insinuates himself there. Your whole body feels like a furnace, burning up for him as he opens you up and tucks himself inside.

“I know it’s big, but you gotta be ready for-“ he clips his sentence short, thinking better of it.

He wants to warn you of his impending knot- the one that’ll no doubt leave you yelping and writhing away from him- you certainly deserve as much of a foreword to it, but part of him is just so terrified you’ll reject him or deny him the priviledge of shoving it inside you and fuck he can’t have that.

Caleb’s nothing if not loyal. He’s also nothing if not selfish. That’s always been a wriggling bug he’s tried to stomp out but it remains in the baser part of him, only amplified by the intense rut that came right out of the blue.

He wants you singing his name and bonded to him (or as much of a bond the two of you can form), and so that’s what he’ll get.

He’ll apologize later, and you will forgive him. So all’s fine.

“Y-You can take it,” is the simpler thing he settles on, and you let it pass, because between the fat cockhead splitting you apart deliciously and the sweet, somewhat perturbing nothings he gushes at your ear, you’re deaf to most of everything.

But when you come- unexpected and sharp, overwhelming your senses as your hips ruck up and he has to pin you down in place and ride it out with you as you cream around him- the scream you let out rings in your ears and so does his ferocious grunt. It’s loud and you’re so numb as seconds pass that feel like eons; pointed teeth teasing at the squishy chunk of your shoulder, invoking a buried sense of alarm.

And then he’s biting down hard- not just nipping- the pleasure thankfully driving off the pain as he ploughs inside, muffling a string of curses as he picks up his pace. Caleb gets sloppier and sloppier and then he’s burning white-hot inside you and moaning like a pornstar, pelvis juddering as he comes.

“Mmh- f-fuck- Good girl!” he rewards with half a brain, fucked out into perfect oblivion, and for a second you wonder why his voice sounds more meant for comfort than praise- until you expect him to pull out but he doesn’t, something big and round forming at the base of his cock that has his eyes fluttering back as it pops in. He goes boneless on top of you as every limb of yours stiffens and coils around his broad back.

You scream his name. He shivers.

It feels enough to shatter your mind- the pain searing you, but the ghost of pleasure that creeps up along your nervous system makes you go like jelly beneath him, helpless to whatever he’s got planned for you.

“C-Caleb, you-!”

“Yeah, a bad dog, a bad dog,” he stammers, whimpering at your earlobe, “I know, baby, I know. Just- don’t shut me out, okay? I- It’ll be over soon, just- ah- loosen up around it, okay? It’ll feel so much better that way. Just… hold on to me.”

“I-It hurts-!”

“Ngh, shhh…” He trembles out, shifting to sample a broken mewl from your lips, cupping your jaw with all the love in the world and staring at you as if you told the sun to rise this morning. “Be a good girl and take it, mm? Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight, I think she wants it too, but she has to relax a little first, yeah? Mm… I could give you a whole litter of pups. Give your Gran a bunch of cute lil granbabies to drive her crazy.”

You choke on your own spit, the brunet letting out a near delirious chuckle at the idea and your reaction to it before his brow gives a wince, your walls instinctively trying to push his swollen knot out.

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

“I don’t know,” he kisses your forehead tenderly, his tail giving a heavy, excited thump behind him on the bed as you grab the sheets for dear life and they wrinkle, pinched like your conflicted expression.

“But I’ve been dyin’ to try it out for myself.”

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏

Mr Crawling

Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.

He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.

Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.

Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.

Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.

He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.

Mr Scarletella

Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.

You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.

So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.

And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.

So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.

He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.

Mr Silvair

Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.

All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.

He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.

So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.

Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀

Mr Gap

This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.

You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.

Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.

So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.

Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.

[nanaslutt]

okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL

Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..

contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.

“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.

“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.

After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.

“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.

“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.

“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.

“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.

But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..

..which might’ve been a mistake.

You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—

“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.

Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.

“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.

“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.

He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.

“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.

The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.

“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.

“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.

“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.

“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.

“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.

“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.

“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.

He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.

“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.

“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.

“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.

“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”

“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.

“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.

“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.

“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.

Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.

“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.

“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”

Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.

“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.

When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.

“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.

“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’

He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.

“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.

“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.

“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.

“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.

“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.

“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”

“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.

“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.

“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.

Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.

He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.

Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.

“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.

“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.

“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.

You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”

His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.

“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.

“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.

When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”

“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.

You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.

He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.

“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.

“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.

“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.

The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.

‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.

“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.

You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.

He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.

You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.

“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.

He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.

“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.

“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.

“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.

You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.

You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.

“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.

He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.

He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it�� whatever gojo did, you did.

“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.

“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.

“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.

Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.

“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.

“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.

“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.

“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.

“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.

“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.

“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.

“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.

“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.

“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.

“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.

Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.

“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.

“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.

“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.

You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.

“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.

You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.

“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.

“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.

“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.

You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.

“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.

Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.

After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.

Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”

pt. 2 here

[arayapendragon]

how i shift 🦉

it took me years of experimenting, trial and error to realize i don’t need methods, subliminals and guided meditations to shift. while i do agree that these tools can help you shift, because they do work for many people, my recent experiences have helped me understand that all you truly need to shift is yourself, nothing else. and nothing can ever change that. 

you simply need to have an awareness, which you obviously do ahahaha. to shift, you just need to align that awareness to your desired reality. here’s how i do it:

i decide where i want to shift to, and think about that reality for a while

i acknowledge the fact that my desired reality exists somewhere in the multiverse, and that it is possible to become aware of it

i embrace a “fuck it, whatever happens, happens” mindset and let go. i detach from the outcome (to shift)

i become equally open to both waking up in my cr and waking up in my dr. i put neither event above the other, i am okay with either of them happening. if i shift, that’s great. if i don’t, that’s okay. i can always try again. i have all the time in the world to do so. 

i decide that i will wake up in my dr and fall asleep

i wake up in my dr 

i've noticed that each time i used this technique, i shifted successfully. its helped me with 2 intentional shifts, and several other shifts to one-off dr’s and random realities in the past, so i can assure you that this works! :) this is a simple technique for overthinkers or people who don’t like methods. it helps you embrace your natural talent, and proves how easy, effortless, and natural shifting can be. 

here’s my 2 success stories from using this technique:

last october i was taking an afternoon nap and spontaneously decided to shift to my hogwarts golden trio era dr. i fell asleep while affirming "i am" and woke up on the train to hogwarts, exactly as i'd scripted! i was standing outside the compartment, and all my senses were present in that reality. i could hear the train horn, the sound of the people talking, i could see the interior of the train in front of me, and felt the chugging of the train beneath my feet.

this image is very similar to what i saw during that shift

2. i wanted to shift to my hogwarts legacy dr yesterday night. while falling asleep, i decided that i was going to wake up on the hogwarts express, but was also equally open to waking up in my cr. i didn't mind either outcome. i let go and fell asleep. as i woke up, something felt different. my eyes were closed but i was no longer lying down - i was sitting upright. i was no longer in a still and silent environment - i felt the chugging of the train engine beneath my feet. i quickly realized that i had in fact shifted to my hogwarts legacy dr and was on the train to hogwarts. i shifted back after a minute as i was quite dazed and disoriented, but i shifted nevertheless!

my advice 

don’t try to follow someone else’s steps. do what resonates with YOU, its your journey. 

embrace the process and each step of your shifting journey. demotivation is normal, you’re only human, it won’t stop you from shifting. 

realize that you don’t need anything to shift but yourself. if guided meditations and subliminals work for you, then keep at it! but if you’re not making any progress with them, its time you rely on yourself rather than external aid to shift. the power lies within you, its always been there. 

there's no need to put in effort while doing your method 

simply thinking about your dr and deciding that you want to be there can help you shift

go with the flow, be spontaneous and have fun

stop doing things that aren’t working for you

detach from the outcome of shifting, it will happen eventually, don’t focus on it happening too much

happy shifting! 🩷

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part two

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

─────────────────────────

It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.

You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.

On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.

Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.

The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.

Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.

Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.

“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.

You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.

Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.

You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.

He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.

A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.

Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.

“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”

An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.

You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.

Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.

Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.

─

The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.

Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.

He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.

Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.

A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.

“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.

“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible

Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.

Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.

Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.

Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.

“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.

“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.

“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.

Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.

a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”

“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.

They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.

─

You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.

As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.

“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.

Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.

Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3

[cake-writes]

Just This Once

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.

Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On

—

Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  

You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 

So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 

Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 

You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  

What the hell is he doing?  

He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  

It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 

“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 

Your birth control must be overdue, then.  

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  

He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 

Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 

As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  

He could get you pregnant. 

A jolt of arousal shoots through him.

Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  

His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  

Kakashi swears.

You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  

He’s already too attached. 

—

Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 

His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  

What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  

Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  

The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  

The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.

“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 

“Mm. Do you want me to?” 

His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  

You want to say no, he realises.  

He wants you to say no. 

“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 

Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 

His.  

Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.

“Just this once.”  

Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.

Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 

He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 

As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 

To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 

“More than okay,” you sigh. 

As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  

He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  

“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  

So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  

He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?

He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 

Later. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 

Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 

He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 

Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.

“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 

“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.

It’s selfish, he knows. 

The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 

He wants it to take. 

Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  

“Close?”  

Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  

He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 

When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  

“Really?” 

To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  

It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 

His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  

Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.

Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  

“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 

“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”

He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.

You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  

Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.

He wants them to mean that you’re his. 

He’s too attached. 

To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  

It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 

Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 

“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.

When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  

“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  

His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 

“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 

If he moves right now, he’s done for.  

When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  

You finish first. Always. 

“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  

Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  

“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 

Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  

Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 

“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 

No more teasing. You want him to be nice.

You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 

“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 

Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 

Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 

His jaw tenses at the reminder. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 

Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 

No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 

And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 

Get her there, then pull out. 

Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 

A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 

“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 

Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 

He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 

Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 

“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 

He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 

Get her there, then pull out.  

Get her there, then pull out.  

Get her there, then—  

You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 

Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 

“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 

The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  

He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 

Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.

It feels good. It feels right. 

He’s too attached. 

He doesn’t care. 

As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 

Why the hell did he do that?  

What the hell did he do?

Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  

He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  

Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  

“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 

“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 

Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  

His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 

You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 

Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 

They’re happy tears, you said. 

You’re happy with him. 

He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 

You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  

Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  

“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 

You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  

That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 

He wants to do it again.

He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 

It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  

Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 

When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  

“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 

You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  

It’s cute. You’re cute. 

“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  

“What?” 

This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 

“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  

“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  

You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 

Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 

Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 

“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 

A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  

You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 

“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  

And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 

But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 

A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 

“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 

Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  

And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  

The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 

“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 

A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 

“Hm? Why not?” 

To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 

“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 

The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.

Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 

He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 

He likes you.

“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 

-

Snippet #1:

“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.

“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 

While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  

He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 

“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 

-

Snippet #2:

Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 

You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 

He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 

You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 

He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 

Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 

Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 

That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 

“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 

 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 

“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 

Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 

Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 

When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  

—

A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)

[wcndrm]

divorced!dad!in-ho x student!fem!reader

just some thoughts about the possible life of in-ho if the games didn’t exist and he was the divorced dad of your roommate ; cw: age gap, sexual descriptions

divorced dad ! in-ho whose daughter, a friend of yours, is about to be your new roommate ; the two of you meet at the door of the apartment building where you’re going to be living for the next four years with his daughter. it’s early in the afternoon and you’re still in the outfit you wore to class today when you open the front door to welcome him. he’s nothing like you expected him to be. when your to-be-roommate texted you from work saying that her dad is going to stop by to drop some boxes with stuff for her you thought you’re gonna meet an average fifty year old grumpy man with tired eyes, scoffing and grumbling, but no… unexpectedly, you lay eyes on the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, elegant and alluring, and you end up just standing there all tongue-tied…

divorced dad ! in-ho who lets you know right away that he won’t take too much of your time, but politely agrees when you suggest to make him a cup of coffee. you quickly find out he’s intelligent, funny, well mannered man and divorced for over three years. he effortlessly makes you feel giddy through his charms meanwhile the way he’s not refraining from keeping his eyes on you has you fantasising… of being manhandled on top of the kitchen table, legs held up on his broad shoulders as his charmingly shaped lips work wonders at your clit. though his flourishing career and the fact his life is much fuller of interesting experiences than yours he swiftly brings back the attention on you with genuine appreciation and intrigue. “i want to hear more about you,” he says almost in a whisper as if he’s entranced by you. the way he can lead a discussion about literally anything while avoiding talking about himself for longer than necessary is refreshing as you’re used to obnoxious guys your age who use every chance they get to talk about themselves.

eventually, you decide not to ask questions about his ex wife, but it’s clear in-ho is enjoying attracting this type of attention again, especially from such a young girl. yes, he’s had experiences where much younger women have shamelessly flirted with him, but he was never interested enough in paying them attention; he’s never had a thing for such unabashed behaviour. with you it’s different; he likes the conversation, the spark in your gaze that keeps him engaged, that makes him want to stop time so he can study you more. the lust creeping up in your voice just enough to make his skin run hot. it’s all already enough to make him forget that you’re his daughter’s roommate… one of her friends…

divorced dad ! in-ho who succeeds at holding back from kissing you when you say goodbye at the door, but fails the next time he stops by to bring the last boxes with luggage. you’re too hard to resist and the devil on his shoulder won’t stop reminding him that if he doesn’t get his hands on you right there and then he’s going to regret it.

is it risky because you’re close friends with his daughter? yes. because of the big age gap between you that makes him seem like he could be your father? maybe. but those things turn the experience even more fun and intense. the secrecy as you lock the door, the rushed promises against your lips that his daughter mustn’t find out. and then… the best of all - his experienced touch electrifying your whole being as it combines with your high energy and sex drive; he knows exactly how to caress you, kiss you and how to make you scream for more. as if your body revealed all your secrets and needs to him the second he pulled you in his arms. his demeanour and the way he maintains full control of everything arouses you more than you thought it’s possible, however, you can see in his glossed over eyes that it’s been a while since he’s had sex - either at all, or just with someone who genuinely brings him immense pleasure. you can feel it in his rough wet kisses with little bites in between; in his thrusts, crashing against you greedily as if this is something he’s been dreaming of… last but not least, in the sincere way he pants thank you when you delightfully swallow his cum after he releases in your mouth, gripping the roots of your hair and tilting your head up as he does so; he wants to peer into your dazed hypnotising eyes in case he doesn’t see you again…

divorced dad ! in-ho who gets addicted to your sounds, to your sweet taste, to all the pretty expressions you make for him and how perfectly your tight pussy feels around him. it’s a dangerous, irresistible combination of emotions that keeps him coming back for more. you’re just as down bad - nobody has made you feel so craved before, so beautiful and sexy in your own skin, but also safe to the point where you almost feel like a completely new person in the bedroom. both of you unleash your filthy fantasies every time you meet and watch how effortlessly they blend together, reminding you how perfectly you match, like two pieces of the same puzzle.

divorced dad ! in-ho who buys a luxurious apartment for the two of you so you don’t feel anxious that his daughter can walk in on you out of nowhere, but also because he wants to. he feels good when he’s spoiling you because he wants to know you have everything you may need and that you have a reason to smile so every time you arrive you find different gifts in addition to beautiful bouquets of flowers with little notes he wrote before going to work.

divorced dad ! in-ho who does his best to spend quality time with you by taking you out, but also by doing fun domestic activities at your new place because now it’s your favorite place to be. you have movie marathons, romantic dinners with meals that he cooks for you while jazzy tunes play in the background as you sit on the countertop and tell him about your day at uni; slow make out sessions on the balcony at night which sometimes end up with you riding him while wearing one of his many shirts. the warm summer breeze spreads his expensive cologne in the air as his hands rest on your hips not rushing your movements because he wants to enjoy every second of the moment… you also have sex on the couch, in the shower and in front of the mirror, because you cannot get enough of each other. to in-ho, sex has never been so thrilling, so… diverse and nasty. “my dirty minded babydoll,” he likes to call you every time you surprise him by asking to please him in a new exciting way.

and when it comes to you, sex has never been so fulfilling; none of the few guys you’ve dated focused so much on you, they never seemed to be patient enough to analyse your reactions and study the needs of your body. but in-ho does, and it’s like every time he learns something new that makes him fall in love even harder. it feels good, because you’re willing to go all the way for him too…

[pukefactory]

Omgggg going off of the protection headcannons you had for Salesperson Ena— how’d you think she’d react if the found the reader being attacked after either the reader had wandered off or they had gotten separated somehow?

•☽────✧˖°˖ LIMERENCE ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Salesperson Ena Being Overprotective Of You

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ Salesperson Ena isn’t one to panic easily. But when she realizes you’re missing? It’s an immediate full-stop to whatever “business opportunity” she was pitching. Her body goes stiff, her smile falters, and her eyes flicker—searching, calculating. She’s still trying to process the loss of a valuable asset (you), but then the Meanie side starts screaming, “WHERE THE HELL DID THEY GO?!”

☆ At first, she tried to handle it professionally. Maybe you just wandered off to the bathroom or got distracted by something shiny. Logical. Reasonable. But the longer she doesn’t find you, the more that logic crumbles. Meanie starts slamming megaphones against walls and demanding answers from the universe.

☆ If she comes across you being attacked? Oh-ho. Ohhhhhhh. The shift is immediate. “WHO THE HELL DARES?!” Her entire body twitches between control—one second she’s negotiating, the next she’s full-on lunging.

☆ The Salesperson side of her prefers to handle things diplomatically. Maybe the attacker can be convinced to “divest” from this terrible decision. “Say, friend, what’s your price for NOT getting obliterated?” But if they don’t listen? Meanie takes the wheel. And Meanie does not do negotiations.

☆ Her movements are a blur of jerky, inhuman motions, flipping between her two sides in rapid succession. One second, she’s offering a five-step business plan to avoid a “messy termination,” and the next, she’s a jagged, screaming blur of claws and teeth. Her arms stretch and distort, her megaphone crackles, and somewhere in the chaos, there’s a voice screaming, “GO TO HELL, JACKASS!”

☆ Once the threat is removed (read: brutally handled), she snaps back to you. Ena brushes herself off, adjusting her cap, smiling too wide. “Well! That was unexpected! Let’s file that under ‘learning experiences.’”

☆ She looks… wrong. The cracks in her face are deeper, her grin a little too sharp, her movements glitching between elegant and unnervingly erratic. “Worry not! The investment was worth it.” And then, “DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN, OR I’LL BOLT YOU TO MY DAMN SIDE!!!” Not a joke. Not an exaggeration.

☆ After this, you are never left alone again. She is now your personal (and unwilling-to-be-fired) bodyguard. She follows everywhere, making up ridiculous excuses to justify it. “What if a BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY appears?” “What if an ASSASSIN appears?” “What if a BUSINESS ASSASSIN appears?!” You try to tell her you’re fine. She does not believe you.

☆ Every shadow, every figure in the distance—it could be them. Another attacker. Another threat. “What’s your problem, stranger? Are you looking for an opportunity?” She asks, still smiling, still calm. But sometimes, she isn’t as patient. “YOU LOOKING TO DIE?!” Her paranoia is suffocating. But underneath it? There’s something worse.

☆ One night, when things are quiet (somehow), you hear her talking to herself. “GØD watches over fools and entrepreneurs. You are neither.” Her fingers twitch. “I won’t let it happen again.” She laughs, but it’s hollow. “Gotta keep the assets safe, after all.” Meanie then whispers, “I thought I lost you.” And it doesn’t sound like a joke.

[woniehugs]

OPERATION: FUCK SIM JAEYUN.

—✧ summary: as a student, you were a huge academic overachiever, always wanting to excel in class and get the highest grades. as a teenage girl, you wanted to get some hardcore action. academics were stressful, and you needed an outlet for that stress. besides, it’s your second to the last year in high school. what could possible go wrong if you deviated and have a little fun? you’ve had your eyes on one guy for a while now, sim jaeyun. the handsome guy, the star soccer player, good at physics. now, you now had another goal aside from finishing the school year as the top student: fuck sim jaeyun. one day, you get partnered together for a project, and one thing led to another, you end up in his bed. this might just turn your life for the better… or the worst.

—✧ pairing: jake sim x y/n

—✧ genre: highschool! au, fluff, pining (mutual? you’ll see), friends with benefits, casual relationship, smut (in later parts)

—✧ a/n: i’ve been thinking about this plot for soooo long now and i really want to write it so here i am haha. this story will be split into two parts (you’ll understand why soon) each part with a vague number of chapters for now. depends on my mood, i’ll be writing and posting the chapters whenever since i’m pretty busy. but i promise, i will finish writing this because this is the plot i’ve been both daydreaming and sleeping to at night. this’ll be my outlet for my stress from academics ;)

—✧ taglist: @youreverydayzebra @witheeseung @w3bqrl @renjuns-grillfreind (cant be tagged) @freakywonbin , @enhafika , @enhacolor, @woniebuns, @cyberstephzz, @sumzysworld, @woniefull, @aanniikkaa, @faithnsstuff, @wonnienyang, @wonlluvie, @slut4hee, @hwaluvrsblog, @jakeswifez, @jiryunie, @nikibleist , @friurt, @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate, @jakesimfromstatefarm, @lolddhfsdcvff-blog (cant be tagged), @my10monthslovesimjae, @heefever, @milanco, @khaisdrz, @cha-raena, @khaisdrz , @milanco , @bananna-12 (cant tag), @ilovejakesimsm (cant tag), @enhypenlovre, @simjaeyunswifee, @shawnyle, @hoonieluv, @niniissus, @bookloversomuch . send an ask or comment if you want to be added!

SHORT PREVIEW:

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

you pull away from jake, panting, trying to catch your breath. you hear him breathing in the same pace as yours, and your brain short-circuits for a moment. you couldn’t believe what the hell just happened.

who the fuck leaned in first?

was it me? him?

and why did i enjoy it so much?

“s-shit, i…” you try to say, clearing your throat. you weren’t so sure what to say after that. wow? you’re an amazing kisser. we should do this more often! oh no you would sound insane. but then again, you were never even sane in the first place.

jake continues to stare at you, still trying to catch his breath. he looks at the unfinished project beside you, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from smiling. you notice this, raising an eyebrow, “what are you smiling about? is this funny to you? we just—“

“yes. we just made out. in my bed.” he cuts you off, looking you in the eye once again. you wanted to look away, growing shy under his gaze, but you find yourself not doing so. “didn’t think you were capable of that. always thought you were the saving yourself after marriage type of girl.”

your eyes widen in surprise, pushing him off. “e-excuse me! you act like you just fucked me in your mattress, which you didn’t, and we won’t ever do!” partially a lie. now that he mentioned it, you couldn’t stop thinking about that scenario now after that incredible almost experience. “and besides, i am that type of girl. i have huge respect for myself.”

jake smiled even wider at your response, “right. i’m not saying you don’t. but i gotta say, i wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

did you hear that correctly? did he just say he wouldn’t mind doing that again?!

well, to be fair, you honestly wouldn’t mind either.

you shake your head, “oh, shove off! let’s pretend that never happened. keep that between us.” you point a finger towards him, “say a word to anyone else and i will cut your balls off. that isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.”

“oh y/n, i know better than to disobey you.” jake replied, holding your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the finger you pointed at him. you could see the mischievous glint in his eye and you wanted nothing more than to slap (kiss, no, scratch that) smirk off his face, but that would mean you were in the losing round in a game that was never played in the first place.

not yet at least. oh god, what the hell were you thinking?

you gulp quietly, nodding at him, and quickly turned to the project in front of you. “right. we’re finished with our short break, l-let’s continue working. we’re not nearly done with this.” great. distract yourselves from what happened. that’s a good idea. put it all behind you and him.

you couldn’t exactly look him in the eye when saying that, so you could probably guess all that jake heard from you was blah blah blah. fortunately for you, jake hummed beside you and continued to work, acting completely oblivious (or so you’d like to assume) to what you were feeling right now.

once you went home, you were going to spend the whole night thinking about this. not just about what happened, but what jake responded to your embarrassing outburst.

“right. i’m not saying you don’t. but i gotta say, i wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

now why on earth would he say that to you?

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

chapter list! (tentative)

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

©2024 ©woniehugs

[maysileeewrites]

bittersweet symphony || prologue

Haymitch Abernathy x f!reader || series masterlist

Summary: After being reaped as a Tribute for the 61st Hunger Games, you and your mentor Haymitch Abernathy are off to a rather rocky start …

contents: mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions off death; Haymitch being a drunk, snarky asshole; angst; bantering, Haymitch and Reader having a rather rocky start; gratuitous use of Princess as a nickname (you'd better get used to it); age gap! (Haymitch is in his late 20s, Reader is 18 at the start)

w.c: 5.3k (it's worth it, I promise!!)

AN: Here it is! I’m so excited but also incredibly nervous … Also don’t worry, this is in fact a Haymitch/Reader story, but the lovely @imnotcryingyouare1 suggested a way that wouldn’t make Haymitch the only one experiencing guilt for falling in love again and because I like drama and heartbreak and pining, I took it and ran haha. In other words: I really, really hope that you all like the prologue!! 

It’s fascinating how drastically a person’s life can change within just a few seconds. 

A few seconds ago, you were standing together with the other seventeen and eighteen year-old girls, desperately hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be your name that would be drawn from the large glass bowl. 

A few seconds ago, the bittersweet taste of freedom was right there on the tip of your tongue. This is the last year you’re eligible for the Reaping - you were supposed to come out unscathed on the other side. 

A few seconds ago, your heart was slamming against your ribcage and your hands were slick with sweat.

And then, Effie Trinket, your District escort read out your name, and everything changed - all of that within the span of a few seconds. 

Numb with shock, you walk onto the stage in front of the Justice Building, trying to keep your head up high. Trying not to cry, trying not to break down in front of the entirety of District Twelve, and - worse yet - all the cameras. 

You might be from the poorest District in Panem, but you won’t give the Careers and whoever else may be watching the chance to brand you as a weakling already. Though you know that the chances of you actually surviving the Hunger Games are slim to nonexistent, you can’t allow yourself to give up  already. 

And so, you take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as you come to stand next to Effie Trinket.

She’s saying something to you, but her words only register as a light, unpleasant buzzing in your ears. When you don’t respond, she frowns, before plastering a smile back on her face again, walking over to the other bowl of names. 

You bite down hard on your lip, and your hands twist into fists behind your back. 

Not Felix, please. Not Will, please.

Not Felix, not Will. 

Please. 

But Effie calls neither of your little brother’s names out. The relief that both your brothers will be safe for at least another year is only short-lived, though. 

„Kai Foster! Come on up, come on up!“ 

Your eyes widen with shock as you watch your best friend walk up onto the stage, coming to stand right beside you. 

This can’t be happening. Not Kai. Not your best friend. Not the only other boy besides your brothers you hold so close to your heart. 

The only thought that rings through your head as you numbly reach for Kai’s hand is that this can’t be happening. 

This can’t be happening. This was supposed to be your last year, you were supposed to get through this final Reaping together. Both you and Kai are already eighteen, in fact, Kai is turning nineteen in just a few weeks. 

And now, it seems highly unlikely that either of you will ever get to experience another birthday again. 

After the Games, who will be there to look after your little brothers? Ever since your mother died giving birth to Felix, it’s been you and your father looking after the boys, but your father’s a miner and while he’s doing his best to take care of you and your siblings, his work in the mines is already taking a big enough toll on him. Who will be there for your brothers? Who will be there to-

Breath hitching, you square your shoulders. You can’t afford to think like that, not yet. 

Not now. Right now, you have to hold yourself together, at least until you’re safely on the train headed to the Capitol. And so, you concentrate on the touch of Kai’s hand, as you’re looking out at the crowd, trying to hold yourself together. 

Then the Peacekeepers are ushering you off the stage and into the Justice Building, and then you and Kai are separated and you’re brought into a small waiting room, and before you get a chance to sort your spiraling thoughts and compose yourself, your family’s ushered into the small room. 

Your little brother Felix is crying, but Will, who’s only two years older than Felix and yet always trying to act all tough, is trying his hardest to keep himself from crying. He finally breaks when you turn to embrace him as well, begging you not to go, to please come back. 

You can’t lie to him, not to your little brother, and so just hold on to him tighter, catching your father’s gaze. He just gives you a sad, pained smile and somehow, that says more than all the words in the world ever possibly could. 

And then, the Peacekeepers are back again, ushering your family out and even though Felix and Will both cling to you, the Peacekeepers just drag them away, before ushering you out of the Justice Building and into a car that’ll take you to the train station. 

At least Kai is here with you, you think, as he silently reaches for your hand, threading your fingers together. At least he’s here with you as you’re being shipped off to your inevitable deaths together. 

The next few moments pass you by in a blur. Kai and you are being escorted onto the train by Effie Trinket. Her chipper, hyper-positive attitude is quickly starting to get on your nerves and so, you excuse yourself, saying that you just need to be alone right now. Kai shoots you a worried look, but you just shake your head, before heading off to your room. 

For hours, you just lie on your bed, motionless, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of home, of your family and friends - all people you’re almost certain you’ll never see again, because while you certainly don’t want to die, don’t want to be just another quick, easy kill for the Career, you just know that there’s no real, tangible chance of you possibly winning these Games - race through your head, spiraling and spiraling and spiraling. 

Finally, when you can’t take it anymore, you stand up, feeling dizzy from the sudden, quick motion. You briefly consider going to find Kai, but somehow, you don’t really feel like you could stomach talking to him right now. 

And so, you head off to the compartment you were ushered into earlier that day, thinking that after grabbing a bite of food, maybe you won’t feel so bad anymore. You don’t encounter anyone as you walk through different train compartments, which is probably for the better, seeing how you’re still feeling incredibly dizzy and light-headed and the movement of the train underneath your feet isn’t exactly helping. 

You finally stumble into the dining compartment, only to freeze when you realize that the compartment isn’t empty as you’d been expecting it to be. 

„So, there she finally is.“ 

The words are delivered in a dry, mocking tone, yet there’s a slurred edge to them. Is he ever not drunk?, you find yourself wondering as you look up into the bright, grey eyes of Haymitch Abernathy. 

Haymitch Abernathy. 

The only living Victor of District Twelve.

Your mentor - he’s supposed to coach you, to help you and Kai get through the Hunger Games. The only problem is that he’s not even once managed to keep his tributes alive for longer than the first few days of the Games, which, you suspect, has a lot to do with him being constantly drunk out of his mind. 

He doesn’t seem to take anything in life seriously, especially not his job as a mentor, seeing how he’s failed to show up to the Reapings ever since you can remember. 

He wasn’t there for your own Reaping as well, and somehow, it’s that thought that finally manages to shake you out of your state of numb shock. 

„You were supposed to be there“, you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, „you were supposed to be there - you’re our mentor and yet you can’t even give us the grace to show up to our Reaping?“ 

Your voice has gotten louder with each word, and your hands are shaking with anger. 

Your eyes find Haymitch’s grey ones again. 

For a second, you think you see something akin to hurt flash in his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant, and his features twist into a scowl again. 

„Well Princess, I’m sorry for not clearing out my entire schedule for you“, he says, his tone sarcastic and mocking. 

Trying to suppress your anger, you bite down hard on your lip, shaking your head in disbelief. „Really?“, you grit out, „I can’t believe that there would’ve been much to clear.“ 

In reply, Haymitch just laughs. 

He laughs - he actually laughs in your face. 

„You’re unbelievable“, you seethe, not at all caring that he’s your mentor and nearly ten years older than you. 

He’s only twenty-seven - you’re not quiet sure, but you think that he was sixteen when he won his Games eleven years ago -, and while you have to admit that even with all the damage he’s done to his own body with all the drinking, he’s still fairly good-looking, with his short dark curls, tall stature and distinct features, yet the look in his eyes tells you that in his twenty-seven years he’s seen and experienced far more than most people do in a whole lifetime. 

Haymitch’s eyes find yours again, and something he sees in your gaze must get through to him, because he finally stops laughing, his expression turning serious again.

„I don’t really see that it would’ve made much of a difference either way“, he says, shrugging. „You and that boy would’ve still been reaped.“ 

„His name’s Kai.“ 

You expect another condescending reply, but when you look up at Haymitch again, he’s looking at you with a thoughtful expression. 

„Tell me something, Princess - why are you here?“ 

You frown. „Because I was reaped for the-“

„No“, he interrupts you, shaking his head, his gaze locking onto yours, „why are you here?“

„What - I don’t …“, you stammer, backing away from Haymitch , who, even though he’s still standing a few feet away from you, is too close, too close, too close. You feel as if even through his drunk stupor, he sees you, really sees you. He sees too much, way too much, and you just want him to stop looking at you like that. 

But, of course, he doesn’t. „Why are you here?“, he repeats his question again, „why are you here - why are you not in his room, pouring your heart out to your boy- Kai, right?“ 

At your sides, your hands clench into fists, but Haymitch continues talking, not giving you the chance to say anything. „Finally couldn’t take it anymore? Finally caught up with reality, did you now?“ 

„You’re one to talk“, you grit out through your teeth, angrily shaking your head. 

He’s unbelievable. He doesn’t even know you, and yet he just attacks you with all of these presumptions of his. He’s twisting the knife right where it hurts, and you hate him for it. 

For a moment, Haymitch just looks at you, his bright grey ares boring into yours. Then, his lips curl into another crooked grin, and he raises his glass, as if to toast you. „Touché, Princess.“ 

It’s disorienting, the way he’s switched from condescendingly provoking to a twisted, almost sarcastic kind of genuinety in just a few seconds. 

„Stop calling me that, just because you can’t be bothered to remember my name“, you snap, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

Haymitch chuckles, before saying your name. At that, you quickly turn away from him, trying to hide your surprised expression. „I do know your name“, he says, chuckling again, „it’s just that I think Princess seems much more fitting for Your Highness who demands that I schedule my whole day according to her, wouldn’t you agree?“ 

And just like that, he’s managed to destroy the small inkling of sympathy you might’ve felt for him in these last few seconds. „Well, seeing as you’re supposed to be our mentor, I’d say that it’s not that outrageous a request.“ 

Haymitch doesn’t immediately answer you, instead, he takes another swig of his drink, then swirls the remaining liquor around in the glass. Finally, his eyes find yours again. 

„You really want my advice, Princess? Stop wallowing, and embrace the very unfortunate, very likely possibility of your imminent death once that gong sounds.“ 

You scoff. „Wise words, truly.“ 

Haymitch just shrugs. „You asked for advice, you got it.“ 

You roll your eyes, scoffing again. It seems pretty clear that there’s not much more you’ll get out of Haymitch, at least not right now. Whatever his deal is, you won’t get through to him by trying to appeal to a conscience he may or may not have. 

Normally, you’d up more of a fight. He’s your mentor, and whatever else he may be - a sarcastic, drunken asshole right on top of that list - he’s probably the best chance you’ll get at trying to survive in that arena, like it or not. 

But right now, you don’t particularly feel like trying to crack to complex riddle of Haymitch Abernathy. Right now, you’re just glad that your anxious thoughts have finally stopped spinning and you’re really looking forward to truly lying down in your bed and to finally just fall asleep. 

Your father always says that things look brighter in the morning, and maybe that’s true. 

Tomorrow, you promise yourself, as you walk towards the table holding all of the fancy liquor bottles. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to Haymitch, really talk to him. 

And so you take a glass, before reaching for a bottle on the table. You can feel Haymitch watching you, his own glass still between his long fingers, as you open the bottle. 

„So, I take it that you’re not in the mood for advice anymore?“, he asks you dryly. 

You laugh darkly. „No. I’ve had a shitty day, and right now, I just need a drink.“ 

Haymitch considers you for a second, before waking closer towards you and setting his glass down right next to yours on the table. „Well, there’s something I can help you with.“ 

You don’t bother with a reply, instead only rolling your eyes, trying to fight off the smile that’s tugging at the corner of your lips.  

Once you’ve finished pouring both glasses, you take yours, watching as Haymitch takes his as well. For a moment, you consider him, then you hold out your glass towards him. 

Haymitch raises his eyebrows at you, but then there’s that crooked grin of his again and you almost feel like grinning as well. „Well, what are we toasting to?“ 

„Staying alive“, you say, shrugging. 

Haymitch considers you for a second, then clinks his glass against yours. „Well, I’ll drink to that.“ He downs the contents of his glass in one swig. The same definitely can’t be said for you. Even before actually drinking the liquor, your eyes start burning. Then the sharp, almost acidic taste hits your tongue, and you immediately start coughing. How Haymitch willingly chooses to drink that stuff with abandon is beyond you. 

Haymitch watches you, chuckling. When you shoot him a dark look, he only shrugs, but his expression quickly turns serious again. 

He clears his throat. „Listen, Princess. If you stay off my case, I’ll - I’ll do my best to help you.“ 

You raise your eyebrows, looking at him. His expression’s sincere, his grey eyes are searching yours. He really does seem to mean it. 

So you nod, allowing a small smile. „Deal. But only if you stop calling me Princess.“ 

Haymitch just chuckles. „I fear it’s far too late for that, Princess.“ 

🏹☀

The next few days pass you by in a dizzying blur of differing impressions. It seems that at every corner you’re meeting new people. 

First, the morning on the train after your nightly run-in with Haymitch, there’s Effie Trinket, your District Escort. Of course, you’ve already met her the day before, but you weren’t really paying attention then, only registering that her forced positive attitude gets extremely annoying really fast. You still find her forced brightness and her constant exclamations of it being a ‚big, big, big day! for you and Kai‘ incredibly irritating, but you soon realize that underneath that flashy Capitol accent and all her twisted beliefs of the world of Panem, there’s actually a genuinely kind soul underneath. 

Even more surprising is the fact that Haymitch seems to know her. Of course, with him being Twelve’s only living victor and her being your District’s escort, he has to know her, but these two seem to know each other in more than just a superficial way. 

When you try to ask Haymitch about it, he avoids your searching gaze, only saying that him and Effie do indeed go way back. 

You want to press on the subject, but with the way he’s crossing his arms in front of his chest and still refusing to look directly at you, it’s clear that he’s not willing to say more on the subject. So, you just sigh, before walking back towards the breakfast table. 

At least Haymitch actually showed up to breakfast. You’re pretty sure that you’ve seen him spike his juice earlier, but still, he’s here. And he’s actually making an effort with both you and Kai, asking you about your strengths and skills and warning you that the Games don’t just start in the Arena - they’ll start the minute you get off this train. In fact, they’ve already started the moment you were reaped. From here on out, every single move either one of you makes will be watched, studied, analyzed. Public perception is key and public goodwill an advantage not to be underestimated.  

After breakfast, Haymitch’s the first one to excuse himself from the table, leaving the train compartment - not before picking up another bottle of liquor and winking at your irritated expression. 

You don’t have time to dwell on his behavior, though, because Kai’s already turned towards you. „Glad to see that you’re feeling better. Not to say that this doesn’t suck immensely, but, well - you know …“, he trails off, smiling sheepishly. 

You can’t help but grin as well, feeling blood rush to your cheeks when Kai continues to look at you with a soft, warm look in his eyes. 

„I know“, is all you say. Really, it’s all you need to say, even though the words somehow feel like both too much and not nearly enough all ot once. 

You’ve known Kai practically your whole life. He’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember. What else is there left to say, really? 

For a short, fleeting moment, doubt creeps into your mind. 

The truth is that there are things you could talk about. Things still left unsaid. 

Like how you’re not all that sure anymore whether what you feel for him is really best described as friendship. There’ve been those moments - moments where you’ve felt breathless just from the way he was smiling at you. Or when he’d gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and your heart would start beating wildly in your chest.

You’re not really sure whether those are normal things to feel when in the presence of your best friend, but the thing is that there’s no point in dwelling on these thoughts, not now. 

Just as you’re most likely never going to see your family ever again, you’re also most likely never going to have a chance to explore those new feelings. 

„- hey, you still with me?“ 

Kai chooses that moment to break the silence and you’re glad to have your thoughts interrupted. 

You blink, forcing a pained smile on your face. „Yeah, it’s just - I … I ..“, you trail off, unable to put your thoughts into words. 

But Kai only nods, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. „Yeah, I know.“ 

Your eyes lock and when he squeezes your hand again, you somehow feel less awful. Kai’s always been that for you - a bright, hopeful spot in your otherwise dreary world. 

And he continues to be that for you during the next few days in the Capitol. 

He’s there for you, all the time. He never lets go of you, his hand is always there to catch you. 

When you stop off the train and are swarmed by Capitol citizens who all want to get to know this year’s tributes. He guides you through the crowd of eager, overbearing Capitol citizens, never once letting go of your hand. 

Then, before you’re both sent off to your prep teams, he hugs you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, promising you that it’s going to be alright, somehow. 

With his words in mind, you manage to get through the grueling procedure - you’re washed and scrubbed and cleaned until your entire skin feels irritated. At least your prep team isn’t so bad. Sure, they’re self-absorbed, somehow managing to make everything about the Hunger Games about themselves, but at least they treat you with some respect. Your stylist’s alright as well, though she puts you in the same baggy miners outfits the District Twelve tributes have been put into during these last few years. 

After being deemed as presentable for the parade, you are reunited with Kai. There’s no time to talk though, because you’re already ushered into your chariot, surrounded by all the tributes from the other Districts. 

To you, the parade’s a blur of faces and voices and your heart beating wildly in your chest, but through it all, Kai is holding your hand, steadying you, grounding you. 

„Nice touch with the hand-holding“, Haymitch tells you, as soon as you’re all back in your rooms above the training center. „The people loved it.“ 

You just nod, though you could swear that Kai’s cheeks are turning rather pink. When you try to catch his gaze, though, he turns away, excusing himself and saying that he needs to go to the bathroom. 

Then, it’s just you and Haymitch. For a moment, neither one of you says anything. 

Haymitch’s eyes find yours. He looks as if he’s debating whether to say something, but then he just sighs, and that crooked grin of his is back. „Well, you should get some rest, Princess. The next few days are going to be crucial.“ 

And with that, he leaves you as well. 

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at his retreating form, but then you decide to heed his advice and to try and get some rest. 

Only that sleep evades you for hours. That first night in the Capitol you lay awake for hours, tossing and turning. Several times the thought of going over to Kai’s room, seeking his comforting presence, crosses your mind, but you decide against it every time. He’s got enough to deal with on his own, you don’t want to distract him as well. And, if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’re also afraid of what might happen if you decide to completely let your guard down around Kai. 

Like that one evening in the woods, some months ago, when - 

No, there’s no point in thinking about that now. Not when come morning you’re both going to be prepared for you own death. 

So, you turn over, but still, sleep evades you. You lie awake for the better part of the night, only dozing off for a few minutes at a time, until thoughts about the fate of your family or what might await you in the arena rouse you with a chilling clarity. 

The following days, it’s the exact same thing every night. 

Every evening, after a grueling day of long training sessions with the other tributes, followed by private sessions with Haymitch and Effie - Haymitch does his best to give you and Kai strategy pointers for the Games and your interview, whereas Effie concerns herself with preparing you and Kai for your interview, teaching you important Capitol manners - you’re beyond exhausted. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s barely any strength left in your body to step underneath the shower and then out of the bathroom and into your bed. But the moment your head hits the pillow, you suddenly feel wide awake, plagued by anxious thoughts of what-ifs about the Games and your loved ones back at home. 

It’s the worst the night after the interviews - the last night before the Games. 

You toss and turn for hours, scenes of the last few days replaying in your mind over and over again.

The way Kai always encouraged you during training. The way Flora and Dalton, the tributes from District Eleven - both only twelve, so incredibly young - started following you and Kai around during training. How you eventually agreed to an alliance with them, even though Haymitch tried his hardest to convince you otherwise. But you and Kai stayed strong, wanting to protect the little ones, as Kai soon took to calling them. Soon enough, the tributes from seven and nine had joined your alliance as well, their tributes not as young as Flora and Dalton, but all still younger than you and Kai. When you’d told Haymitch about Cassie, Finn, Sarah and Lucas joining your alliance, he’d only sighed, shaking his head at you. 

„Well, I guess that no matter what I’ll say, you’re not going to reconsider?“ 

„Definitely not“, you’d replied, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

Haymitch had sighed again, though this time it sounded far more weary than just simply frustrated. „Well, I did try to warn you“, was all he’d said, before pouring himself another drink, effectively signaling the end of that particular conversation.  

Remembering that conversation with Haymitch has doubt creeping back into your mind. What if he was right in trying to discourage you from forming that alliance? What if, if it comes down to it, you won’t be able to protect all these kids? You’re fast and aced the edible plants station at training, and though you’re not entirely useless when it comes to throwing a knife, when it really comes down to it, you’re not much of a fighter. 

Kai, having had to learn how to hunt illegally to in the foods to provide for his family years ago, is good with a bow and arrow and with setting traps, but who’s to say that the arena will even have a bow and arrows? 

What if it’s like that arena a few years ago, when the whole place was a desert? What if there won’t be any weapons at all? And even if there were, there’s still the biggest question of all that’s gnawing at you - would you actually use a weapon to end another life, even if it’s self-defense or to save someone else? 

Because no matter how you might try to spin it, telling yourself that you swore to protect those kids, that you want to protect Kai or that you just want to survive - in the end, it’s still another life you’re taking, just to preserve another one. 

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore. Your thoughts are spinning and you feel too hot underneath your sheets, so you throw them aside, standing up and leaving your room in a split-second decision. 

You have no idea of where you want to go, you just know that you can’t spend even another second in that room right now. 

In the hallway, you cross your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chilly night air. Where just seconds ago, your hands were sweating and you were feeling way too hot underneath your sheets, you’re starting to freeze in your thin, satin nightclothes. They’re pretty, the fabric’s incredibly soft and they’re probably more expensive than all the clothes you own back at home put together, but they’re doing nothing to ward off the chill you’re feeling. You really should’ve grabbed a sweater to throw on over your night clothes. 

Uncertainly, you turn towards Kai’s room. 

„Can’t sleep either?“ 

You freeze. Even without turning around, you know that it’s Haymitch standing in the Hallway with you, not Kai. 

„I mean, I get it, last night before the Games and all …“ 

Slowly, you turn back around. Haymitch is standing just a few feet away from you, arms crossed in front of his chest, a small bottle of liquor in his right hand, like always. 

He looks like he’s about to say something more, but before he gets the chance to, you quickly say: „Please, not right now Haymitch.“

Your voice sounds raw and uncertain, not exactly the strong, defiant tone you were aiming for. But you really can’t handle another one of his signature sarcastic remarks, not right now, not when thoughts about what awaits you in the Arena and what might happen to your loved ones back at home have been plaguing you for hours already. 

Haymitch looks ready to retort something, but then his eyes find yours, and his expression seems to soften. „Don’t worry Princess, I was just going to say that you should really get some rest … you know, get your beauty sleep and all that.“ 

Somehow, you find yourself laughing dryly. „Beauty sleep, yeah, right.“ 

Haymitch’s eyes widen when he hears you laugh and he grins as well, but then his expression turns serious once more. „I mean it, though. Adrenaline’s only gonna get you through everything for so long.“ 

You sigh tiredly. „I know, it’s just - I can’t stop thinking about … about … about-“

„About what the arena might be like?“, Haymitch interrupts you, a knowing look in his eyes. „About how your family and friends back home are doing? What you’ll do if one of your allies doesn’t make it out of the bloodbath alive?“ 

He trails off, and for a moment, neither one of you says anything. Haymitch’s grey eyes find yours again, and suddenly his eyes seem to be full of guilt and regret. 

He sighs deeply, running a hand through his dark curls. „Look, Princess, I know that that’s not the answer you want to hear, but I don’t have the answer to any of these questions, and neither do you. And driving yourself crazy over all of the what-ifs isn’t going to do you any favors.“ 

You nod, sighing. „I know. I - I know that, I - it’s just … “

„You can’t help it“, he finishes your thought, and you nod again. 

You look at him again, and something in his expression seems to shift then. There’s a dark, heavy look in his eyes, and his lips quirk into a twisted grin. „Look, I won’t - I can’t make any promises, because who knows what these Gamemakers might have up their sleeve, but trust that I’ll be looking out for you and these kids, alright?“ 

You want to say something in reply, but suddenly your throat feels all chocked-up. There’s pressure behind your eyes as well, and you blink heavily. Haymitch thankfully doesn’t comment on it, instead averting his gaze, as you try to compose yourself again. 

„I - thank you, Haymitch really“, you finally manage to say, your voice sounding small. 

Haymitch just nods, still avoiding your gaze. „Don’t thank me just yet, just - try to stay alive, because that would make my job a whole lot easier, you know?“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his words, scoffing. „I’ll try my best.“ 

„Good. And now try to get some rest, you need it“, he says, his gaze serious once more. 

You nod. „Yes, I will - I - good night, Haymitch.“ 

„Good night, Princess.“ 

For a moment, he looks at you, but then he turns around and starts to walk away. 

„Oh, and Haymitch“, you say, causing him to turn back around to look at you again, „any last advice?“ 

His grey eyes find yours, an emotion in them you that can’t quite decipher. For a moment, you find yourself unable to look away from him and you can feel your heart starting to beat faster in your chest. 

Haymitch holds your gaze, nodding, a sad smile on his lips.

„Stay alive, Princess.“ 

taglist: @sundawn1990 @star611 @psychicfartvendor @madz22 @pervigilatrix @bemissconstrued @neonawax @not-the-teen-witch @luvlyluxx @cocastyle @mannythemunchkin @alitaar @juiceboxfullofslime @imonmyvigilanteshh @queenofnightdreamland @chenellearose @bluecookies08 @laramcflyyyy @nikki-is-a-nerd @jaybbygrl @face-the-grace-blog @knights-of-ni @mel3484 @heidiland05 @qtkarma @things-i-will-never-say-to-you @yoursrosie @theseerbetweenus @nyra-42 @eatmyheartdear @jarofshells @helenasarrow @takemeoutkc

read the next chapter here!

[goldenroutledge]

love is a broken door

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: fluff. in which broken doors don’t stand a chance against your boyfriend.

warning(s): hurt comfort, reader gets a bruise, some insecurities from carlos

“Damnit! Not again.” You groan, catching the attention of your boyfriend in the next room. It was no surprise that he was standing in front of you in a matter of seconds, before you could even open your eyes after tensing up from the pain throbbing in your arm.

“All good?” Carlos questions, concern clear in his expression and his tone of voice. “What happened?”

“Yes, it’s just this stupid door again.”

His eyes widen, drifting to where you clutched your arm with your other hand as you lean back against the bathroom counter. Out of instinct, he all but lunges closer towards you to take a closer look at the bruise that’s forming.

He hesitates before touching it, until you give him a consenting nod to which he runs his fingers over your swollen skin ever so gently. Carlos may have been a tough guy by trade, but he always regards you with the utmost tender loving care.

“What did the door do? How did this happen?”

“It’s alive or something, I swear. Every time I open this door it never stays open, it sways to about halfway shut. I’ve been forgetting, so when I turn around, I accidentally run into it.”

Carlos frowns, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours with a plea. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve fixed it for you.”

You sigh, rubbing your arm soothingly. “It’s okay, babe. I know you’re busy and I don’t want to bother you with little things.”

“You’re never bothering me, amor. No problem of yours is little, I want to help you.” You kiss his lips reassuringly, hoping that his concerns will fade away.

“It’s not a big deal. In the meantime I’ll just have to watch where I’m going, no worries.”

“No, worries!” Carlos fires back, taking your hands in his before staring you in the eyes. He wants– no, needs you– to know he’s sincere about this. “What kind of man would I be if I let my woman stand in harm’s way, hm?” You giggle, surprised at how serious he’s taking this. You don’t miss the small smile he gives you in return.

“You mean stand in the door’s way? Get it, because it’s a doorway?” His now deadpan expression causes you to crack up even further, he’s clearly unamused with your jokes. “The door is not to blame for my lack of spatial awareness, honey. I promise you, I’m fine and unharmed.”

“Whatever you say, amor.” Carlos surrenders, eyeing you suspiciously. He welcomes another kiss from you before you leave the house, off to run the errands you were originally on your way to do before running into that stubborn bathroom door.

Of course he trusts your word, and he certainly trusts your capability to fix whatever needs fixing at home. But he can’t shake the nagging feeling in his gut that feels an awful lot like guilt.

He loves his career, and your support of him even more, except the part where he has to miss out on the little things. The ordinary, mundane things that happen in your life that he won’t get to know about or experience with you. The little things you won’t bother to tell him because you think he has more important things going on.

Another part of him feels silly for taking it as seriously as he is, but he also knows that the door represents only the surface of the issue that’s really bothering him. Surely he can tell by the way his stomach is turning at the thought of not being around for you as often as he should be. He knows you don’t hold it against him. But he also knows you two don’t have the most settled of lives either. When he overhears your best friend rave to you about the latest thing her boyfriend did for her, he wonders if you’re longing for the same stability.

He wonders what you say about him when it’s your turn to share, no matter how extravagant the gifts or the vacations or the experiences are that you two have shared together. He wonders if that’s really enough.

Carlos takes one good look at the door that’s taunting his insecurities. It makes a creaking sound as it swings halfway shut after he opens it, almost hitting his own shoulder as it did yours moments prior.

–

When you return home it’s quiet, and to your surprise the lights are off in the kitchen. Usually around this time when Carlos isn’t traveling, he’ll be in there perfecting his latest recipe, letting you have first dibs on tasting the food before he shows it off to his family and friends.

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-song, to which you don’t hear a response. His car was in the garage, so he had to be here. Maybe he opted for a quick nap after his workout?

You quietly tip-toe up the stairs hoping that if he is asleep, you didn’t just wake him up. When you enter your bedroom, it’s a relief to see light shining from the doorway that connects your en-suite.

And if you weren’t surprised at the sight before you, you would’ve been entirely turned on by it. There stood your boyfriend, focused as ever with a drill in one hand and the door held upright with the other. The veins of his arms were especially prominent and he bit his lip in concentration.

“Carlos?”

His eyes glance towards you, startling him, nearly causing him to drop the door that was only partially attached to its hinges. He lets out a breathy laugh, clutching his heart to emphasize the shock he’s in, so engrossed in his project that he didn’t even hear you enter. “Mi amor, you scared me. When did you get home?”

“I got home a while ago.” You muse, walking into the bathroom to see him up close. “But I wouldn’t mind admiring you for a little bit longer.”

He raises his eyebrows, smirking devilishly as your hands trace the muscles of his body over the shirt he’s wearing. “You like what you see?”

“Had I known you look so sexy fixing doors I might’ve just started breaking them.” You make it a point to let your eyes roam before making eye contact with him again. “And it’s not too late, you know. It’s never too late.”

“Before you start on that rampage, can I at least finish fixing this one first?”

“As long as I can watch.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Be my guest, amor.” Carlos whispers in your ear, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

You hop up on the counter, swinging your legs with delight. He focuses once again, inspecting the lines on his beam level to make sure that his drilling will be accurate.

His dark hair is messy and his forehead shines with the sheenest layer of sweat. You can’t help but marvel at how good he looks in the bathroom lighting. So good, that you really do start to consider breaking doors in the house if it means you can see him like this all the time.

Your heart warms at the fact that he’s doing this just for you. This isn't the Carlos Sainz that’s working tirelessly to make his team or his fans proud of him, just you. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs.

He finishes securing the last couple screws before stepping back, nodding his head as he examines his work. He looks your way to see if you’re paying attention, and sure enough you are. He opens the door all the way, and watches you light up when it actually stays put where it’s supposed to.

“See, mi amor? Good as new.” He strides towards where you’re sitting on the counter. Carlos runs his thumb across your bruised shoulder before pressing soft kisses to the swollen skin. “You’ll never have this again.” His lips trail in a circle of kisses around your shoulder and then up your neck, stopping just below your ear.

Butterflies erupt inside your body and your heart warms for the man before you. “Thank you, my love. You’re always looking out for me.”

He shrugs, giving you a soft smile. “I try.”

Your dreamy stare falters slightly, sensing a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “You always do, there’s no doubt about it.”

It’s his turn to feel the butterflies erupt in place of the uneasiness that’s still lingering from earlier. He’s amazed at how with just one look from you, he’s reassured that you’re meant to be together. “I just want to be there for you like you deserve, I hope you know that I’d give you the world if I could.”

“Carlos…” You murmur, taking his hands in yours. “As far as I’m concerned, when we’re together, the world doesn’t even exist.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But I know I’m away a lot of the time and it’s not easy for either of us. It’s not what you signed up for.”

“I signed up to love you, no matter where we are in the world. The distance is just a small part of that, always has been. And if we’re apart or not, nothing will stop me from cherishing our life together. I’m thinking of the big picture, when I can tell our grandkids that their abuelo found time to fix a broken door between racing around the world 24 weekends a year.”

Carlos smiles at your words, almost getting lost in the thought of you two growing old together, imagining the family that you two will create together someday. He’s happy to know that your dreams look alike. “Hopefully they’ll be impressed.”

“Trust me, they will be.” Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His hands cling to your hips in response. “Most people in your position would’ve just hired someone to fix it, but you personally made sure I won’t have to worry about it anymore. Every time that I don’t run into the door, I’ll have you to thank instead.”

He leans forward, kissing you with a familiar passion that never fails to catch you off guard. “You’ll always have me, mi amor.”

You kiss him once again, showing him the same affection in return. Your eyes find each other and you can’t help but smile at the comfort that consumes you. “You’ll always have me, too.”

💌: i didn’t know how to end this lol. reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading :)

taglist: @marjorieswrld

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Big Guy Big Belly

König is a big man, and with a big man comes a big appetite. We’re talking about a 6’10 man constantly maintaining his peak physique. He needs to be consuming as many calories and as much protein, carbs, fats, fiber and more to keep himself in fit and fighting shape.

At the canteen, he’s a nightmare. I bet that people rush to the cafeteria just to make sure they get something to eat before the big man on base rolls up. He’ll clear out the bins if he gets a chance. There’s a rumour on base that the reason König fought so hard to climb the ranks so quickly was just to be able to eat more and get away with it. Little do they know that they’re absolutely right, but König will never say that out loud. Ever. There’s some secrets you take to your grave. 

Either way, König is a menace in the canteen. He’ll pile his plate as high as he can when he gets a chance. He’s packing away all he can get in the shortest amount of time he can, and everyone has to suffer for it. The worst part is that everyone has to rush to get to the caf before König, and König knows exactly what others are doing, so he’s in a daily race against the entire base to eat his fill. It’s always a photo-finish to see who gets to the cafeteria first.  König currently has been slacking, so he’s not been eating like he normally has. Is he mad? Not really. He’ll clean out the snack cart later. 

He’s a monster late at night. Everyone knows that you need to leave the big man to his snacks, lest you face the wrath of the colossus on base. Well, wrath in a peculiar way. He just gets quiet and angry, but it’s still not a fun experience to try and fight him for a sandwich. If you take the last egg salad sandwich you’ll be at the top of his shit list for the next week. Don’t even think he won’t track you down. He’ll throw around his rank just to get his hands on the poor bastard. Nobody is safe, either.

Stiletto only once took the last pudding cup. Once. She never made that mistake again. For a week he was giving her dirty looks over a cold shoulder as he bumbled down the hall. She eventually had to give in and sacrifice a desert to be able to get back in his good graces. She still thinks he’s a massive bitch because of it. And you know what? She’s right. Everybody knows she’s right, K��nig included, but he’ll keep going after whoever ‘steals’ ‘his’ snacks. They get along a bit better now that they’ve both advanced in rank and worked together, but there was a good period of time where Stiletto had to sleep with one eye open.

It gets a bit better for everyone when König finally finds a partner and doesn’t stay on base so often. Everyone takes a moment to pray for the poor soul who has to cook for König whenever he gets home from deployment.

See, during deployment, König can’t be such a massive bitch about food. He gets his rations, and that’s that. He can’t steal from anybody else, so he gets stuck with these pitiful MREs that barely fill him up. It’s miserable, and he’s losing weight like crazy when on the field. He’s running on fumes and burning calories like crazy as he’s risking his life out there. It’s gotten to a point where König has taken to eating with hostages post-rescue to ‘help them feel safer’ (read: get more food into his gullet). Thankfully, he puts his best foot forward when dealing with victims of trauma and ensures that he has somebody else do all the socializing while he plays with the kids after dinner. Apparently, after the inevitable shower of tears whenever kids have to face König, he becomes pretty popular. They love to use him as a jungle gym (and make fun of him) and he’s just happy to get more to eat. He’ll take being called ‘bigger than even my dad!’, being told ‘you’re weird’ or being asked ‘why are you so big and scary all the time?’ any day for a little extra to eat. He can tolerate a few kids. He won’t ever admit that hanging around them makes him want some kids of his own, or at least not to Horangi, who’s already teasing König about being a surrogate father to the kids. König tells him to keep it to himself, but Horangi is already buying things for the baby shower.

Once König finally comes home, that’s when all Hell breaks loose. This man has been starving and he needs food NOW. He won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t have something prepared, he’ll be ordering a massive order of takeout the likes of which you’ve never seen before in your life. He’ll hit multiple places on his way back to your place if he doesn’t think you’ve been able to get something together for him. If you can’t cook, he won’t even bother telling you to cook for him and just focus on getting a whole banquet of junk food ready for when he arrives home. He brings the pizzas in the door before he even brings in his own bags. You’ll have to go out and grab his bag as he sets up his personal buffet table. The worst part is despite how much he can shove down, he always buys more than he can eat, so you’ve got a couple of days worth of food to shove in the fridge at the end of the night.

If you can cook, this is a multi-day experience. Is it rewarding? Absolutely. Is it painful? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s got you slaving for hours a day just to get him a nice home cooked meal. You’ll be going all out to get him a big enough meal. We’re thinking a tray of mac and cheese, a whole roast chicken, easily a handful of loaded baked potatoes. If you have something from your traditional cuisine, he’s not picky, he’ll gobble it up in a heartbeat. Knowing you made it for him is more than enough for him. Food is the way to a man’s heart, some say, and König will never let you go if you treat him like the king he is.

The good thing about cooking König such a big meal is that he gives back. He’s not a fan of cooking, but for the next few days he’ll take over cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. It’s just an easy way for him to give back, you know? He can’t thank you enough with words, so why not with actions?

But the best part of König giving back is that he’s an excellent cook. He cooks mostly traditional food from his culture, but he’s down for some french or italian cooking if you’re into it. He can make a mean lasagne. He does not skimp on the cheese, this man. No he’s a cheese fiend. If you’re lactose intolerant, you’ve got another thing coming for you. He will hand feed you lactaid just for the meal. If you have a dietary restriction, he’ll learn how to cook your types of meals in abundance. He’s perfect that way. Vegetarian, vegan, keto, no matter what, he’s got your back. He’s learned how to make an excellent spread for a dinner party, and part of learning to cater to others is to work around other people’s diets; his mother drilled that rule into his little head as a kid. He does it without complaint, too. For at least a week after coming home, he’s just so happy to be around food in abundance again. He’s absolutely thriving in the kitchen before the thrill wears off and he’s back to avoiding cooking like the plague again.

He loves to eat, but usually hates to cook. He’ll mostly eat takeout until he actually has to eat a nutritious meal again for a change. It’s not that cooking is awful, it’s just that he hates doing the dishes. He’d be far more inclined if he didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards. If you take over dishes, he’ll definitely step up his game for the both of you.

All in all, König loves to eat. He’s a big man with a bigger appetite, as hard as that is to believe. Once he retires he has to learn to cut back a fair bit, but he never loses his taste for sweets and snacks. It’s just something you’ll have to learn to live with.

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking, drunk driving, family passing

A/N: don’t kill me….

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P5: Budge

wc: 1800+

It’s quiet. The night air is refreshing, the blinking stars and street lights creating a dim glow on the pavement. I don’t mind the silence, but my curiosity is building with each step. 

“So…” I trail off, holding Trevor’s leash a little bit tighter as I swallow thickly. “Are you gonna tell me why you dragged me out here?” I press. 

Chris shrugs, his eyes staring straight forward, avoiding my gaze at all costs. “I didn’t drag you out here—”

“You showed up at my fucking window!” I exclaim, my eyes going wide as I realize how loud my voice is compared to the deathly still environment. 

“Nice,” he remarks, sarcasm dripping from his tone as I feel my body cringe with embarrassment. 

My lips tighten together in a thin line as I let my feet carry me down the pavement. “Whatever,” I mutter, my face scrunching as I stare around us, trying to reassure myself no one is around. 

Time passes by slowly yet peacefully. The sidewalk lines pass beneath our shoes, the slight trotting of Trevor’s paws making me more aware of each passing second. I have no idea where we’re going—maybe Chris doesn’t either. But there’s something about the quiet, the rhythmic steps, the way Trevor nudged against my leg every now and then, that it makes it all feel… bearable. 

“She used to love walks like this,” he mutters under his breath. I don’t need to ask who to know. He’s talking about her. 

“Your mom?” I ask softly, looking over to find him letting his shoulder slump a little bit more. 

“I…” he trails off, uncertainty pushing his words back into his mouth. Maybe he just needs a little push. 

“Tell me about it,” I request. 

Chris stays silent for a moment before taking a deep sigh, shoving his hands further into the pocket of his hoodie while shrugging. “I mean, yeah. She used to have us all go for a walk together. After dinner, before bed. Just me, Matt, and… our brother.” 

Brother. He had yet to say a name, yet to give any detail besides that one, singular word. 

My forehead crinkles more as the pattern of his steps stop echoing. I look over my shoulder, seeing his body seem awkwardly stiff, his shoulders rigid as if he’s bracing for something painful. 

Part of me wants to ask. But I don’t. 

“I don’t talk about him,” Chris says, almost like a warning. “So don’t…don’t–”

“I won’t,” I interrupt, reassuring him as I watch his eyes float towards my face with an unreadable look. It’s softer—not as cold. It makes me feel a little more relaxed, like the cool breeze was brushing through my veins with a refreshing calmness. 

My mind lingers back to his words from earlier, his cruel eyes when the insults spewed from his mouth like acid. He didn’t know me, he had no right to judge—but part of me knew deep down he wasn’t mad at me. He was hurt. And I understood that more than I wanted to. 

“The night we met,” I say, swallowing thickly as our steps resume. 

Chris huffs, “What about it?” 

“I wasn’t drinking.” 

His steps halt again. This time, he turns to face me fully, his brows furrowing as his eyes squint. “What?” he asks.

I nod, letting my head sway. “That night, when I was walking home—you assumed I was drunk, that I was just some idiot who likes partying and getting wasted.”  I bite on my inner cheek, my shoe moving on the pavement as I shift awkwardly. “I wasn’t drinking. I… I don’t even really like parties.” 

Chris stares at me, his face relaxing as he looks around our surroundings before his eyes land back on me. “Then why were you there?” he questions. 

A weak laugh shakes through my lips. The confession of something I hate even admitting to myself falling on the tip of my tongue as my head moves from side to side. “Because,” I start, pulling on my hoodie sleeves as my eyes fall to the pavement. “I’m lonely, Chris. I don’t have a lot of friends, and the ones I do have, well… they like that kind of thing. I guess—I guess I just wanted—ugh, I don’t even know,” I sigh. 

I do know. By the slow nod of Chris’s head, I can tell he knows the wordless explanation. I just wanted to feel like I belonged for once—it was the closest thing I could get to being understood.

He stays silent, his face shifting to relax as his posture eases. It’s barely any sort of acknowledgment, but it’s enough to reassure my doubting thoughts. 

“I wasn’t being reckless—that’s why I was walking home. Shawn was supposed to be the designated driver, but he… he—well, he didn’t do that. He had a couple drinks and even though he insisted he was fine, I—” 

Chris fills the silence as my words fall flat, “You walked home alone at two in the morning instead of… oh.”

His lips part slightly, his face falling as his eyes soften even more. 

“You judged me without knowing anything,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I get it. You have your reasons—but I’m not the person you think I am.” 

Chris’s jaw tightens. For a short moment, I find myself anticipating some sort of argument. But he doesn’t. Instead, he lets out a heavy breath, nodding once, “Okay.” 

I blink harshly, my tired eyes feeling heavy. “Okay?” I question, letting my eyes drift to recognize the familiar surrounding, one street away from my house. 

“Okay,” he repeats, shoving his hand into his pockets as our steps echo with Trevor’s trotting paws. 

I exhale, my shoulders relaxing slightly. It’s not much, but at least it was something. 

As we arrive back at my house, our steps get quieter. I cautiously stalk up to my window, placing my hands on the frame and trying to pull up.

It won’t budge. 

My eyes go wide. It won’t open, it slipped shut—fully. 

“Something wrong?” he taunts. 

I turn around, shooting him a glare. “It slipped shut. I… I guess I didn’t leave it open enough,” I state, my jaw clenching as my tired body slumps with frustration. This can’t be happening. 

Chris snorts, “Well, that’s unfortunate.” 

I groan, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. “My mom is a light sleeper. If I go through the front door, I’m dead,” I explain, mostly mumbling to myself. 

The slight tug on my sweatshirt makes my body stand up straight, my feet stumbling as Chris starts to tug me back towards the sidewalk. 

“What the–”

“You’re not sleeping outside. Just crash at my place. Think of it as a…” 

“An apology?” I offer, trying to finish his sentence. 

Chris shakes his head, “Whatever you wanna call it, I guess.” 

My lips tug upward with a small grin. I look down to see Trevor, still happily walking as we make our way to his house—only a short distance from mine.

Chris puts a finger to his lips, warning me to stay quiet as he carefully unlocks the front door to his house, holding the door for me before walking in behind me, carefully pushing the door closed. He takes off Trevour’s leash, lightly placing it on top of his shoes after sliding them off. 

Sliding off my own shoes, I wince as they squeak. I look up to find Chris glaring at me, offering a hand to help me balance myself. The lump in my throat falls down to my chest. I let my hand lay in his, the warmth of his palm radiating onto my skin making my exhausted mind loop in circles of an unknown emotion. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a loud snore. I look over to the couch, seeing an unfamiliar man sleeping on the couch. He looks like an older version of Chris. It must be his dad. Why was he sleeping out here? 

A tug on my clothes makes me pull my attention back to Chris. He nudges his head, signaling me to follow him as he starts walking down the hall. His hand lands on a door knob, slowly turning and pushing it. 

I walk in, my eyes shamelessly analyzing his room as I listen to him quietly shut the door behind us. His room is surprisingly neat, except for the pile of clothes on the chair and the random papers skewed along his desk. 

“You take the bed,” he says, pulling his hoodie off and over his head, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

Thoughtful. Maybe he’s not that bad. 

I look over, seeing a full size mattress with a puffy duvet laying on top, a singular pillow resting sloppily in the top of the bed. Of course, the typical man—only having one fucking pillow. 

“You seriously think I’m taking your bed?” I question. Maybe sleeping outside would be better. At least it wouldn’t be as… confusing.

Chris shoots me a look while bending down and unhooking Trevor’s collar, “Just get in.” 

Reluctantly, I let my exhausted body obey, climbing in and pulling the blanket over me. It smells good, just like him—citrusy and warm. 

I watch as Chris lays on the floor, placing his arm under his head as he stares up to the ceiling. That can’t be comfortable. 

“Chris, just come here,” I announce. 

He sighs before getting up, settling onto the other side of the bed. God knows what time it is, there’s no energy left to argue. 

I shove the pillow over to him. “Thanks,” he mumbles, finally relaxing on his back. 

For a while, we just lay there in the dark, Trevour’s breath soft and steady as he rests by our feet. My arm is numb, my body shifting restlessly as I try to get comfortable. 

“Here,” he says, holding his arm out flat on the bed. 

I’m so tired. I let my body scoot over to his, my chest just barely pressing against his side as my head nuzzles onto his arm.  

“Thanks for coming to my window,” I whisper, my words slurring with exhaustion. 

A moment of silence follows. My eyes are getting heavier and heavier by the moment, my body sinking into the mattress, relaxing further towards him. 

The slight motion of his arm tugging me in closer makes my body fully leaning on his. “Yeah, yeah… whatever.”

[ironrea]

you’ve been conditioned to not believe..

   … a rant

so i’ve been on vacation recently, specifically to the beach, and it got me thinking about a lot of things.. so as a child, i was always running to be in the water - like constantly-  and there was so much more wonder, hotels were bigger, places seemed nicer, i didn’t worry what people thought of me based on the swimsuit i was wearing, etc. i was just so happy to be there and there was no bad thought or anxiety that took that away from me, but today, i only got in the ocean once.. yes that’s it. little me would be horrified because she was constantly begging someone to swim with her and if they said no, she would stubbornly walk in the water by herself until she got yelled at because she was too little to be by herself. i genuinely laid down the entire time today and while there’s nothing wrong with that,  it made me realize how tired i am now and how all the adults when i was a kid also didn’t want to get up… to my younger self, it used to be such an adventure and such a big thing to me, and now, here i was, literally on a beach either sleeping or on my phone… things i could just be doing in my bed. and to me that was just so sad, you know? so anyway how does this relate to shifting, you ask? it made me think about how easy it is to believe things as a child but it becomes increasingly more difficult as we grow. because as we grow older, we soon grow out of imagination and say goodbye to a hundred percent optimism. we start to believe in the confines that are pushed on to us and submit to the conditions this awful reality has given us: wake up, school/work, eat, sleep, then die… and that’s why i think so many people find it hard to believe in shifting or the fact that they can shift. this reality’s ‘laws’ and (yes) the government have shaped our minds so much so to think that that’s all there is.. or at least tried to. as a shifter myself before i found it that was always my question “that’s it? that’s all i get to expierence? really?” but then i found shifting and i latched on, much like many of you did yourself. but so many people have given up or straight up opposed it because that’s “not the way we’re supposed to live!” but genuinely why would you listen to someone like that? so honestly brainwashed and empty? i mean i feel bad for these people sometimes because they will never experience anything like this. perhaps things could come close in this reality but… actually no. i don’t think anything comes close to shifting. we get to experience going into whatever shows and films we love most, we can meet characters people that we love, celebrities people we look up too, visit ANY period in time, become anything we’ve ever wanted to, go to places on our bucket list and even places that “only exists” in books and fairytales, and so much more. but so many fucking people won’t believe in it because we’ve literally been conditioned not to. i know i sound like a conspiracist and maybe that’s because im on the floor (again) with an awful sunburn, heat headache and had the urge out of nowhere to write this into my notes app but genuinely please just do NOT let other peoples limited beliefs affect you… i have more in my head but like idk,,, just can’t put them into words right now or i just straight up forget.. so thats it. for now.

[atrirose]

͏͏𝒗𝒊. ͏MORE THEN JUST FRIENDS ! enha ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏— ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏& ͏ ͏𝐢

bsf(?)enha x f!reader. warning. none, kissing in jake’ + fluff wc.0.9k 🐰 seiu?!: after a century i’m writing hcs again yayy

— HEESEUNG LEE

let’s you bite him, very weird behavior but he has grown used to it, at first he was all confused as to why you feel the need to bite him like a chew toy but it’s okay your best friend(?) get you now, his biceps nom nom, but due to all this he has bite marks all over him which he is least bothered about but he does get asked if he is dating someone a lot which is confusing because why would people just assume he is dating out of the blue “yn you know i have been asked three times today whether im seeing someone and it’s all because of the bite marks you leave, people would think we are dating”

“do you want that to be a reality” he looks at you with wide eyes “are you hearing yourself” — “i am heeseung”

— JAY PARK

wears your hair tie which very bf coded and i wonder why he hasn’t asked you out yet? like which bestie goes around wearing a girls hair tie when he obviously is in the market? wearing it just makes you thing he is taken “do you love my hair tie that much you can’t even return it to me? YOU CANT RETURN MY OWN HAIR TIE TO ME” shoves a piece of cake in your mouth to shut you up “is it bothering that much, i will buy you more” which is weird because why not just return the one he has on his wrist, at this point he just wants be a wife.

“keeps me away from girls you know” oh so now he is just using you as an escape mechanism “keeps me a step closer to you” your ears turned red “so you wanna date me?” you ask

“that’s very multifaceted question” you hit his shoulders “big meanie” he giggled knowing damn well he is down right bad for you

— JAKE SIM

don’t at him but he has kissed you, like a full blown kiss not just a peck, for training purposes right? yes for training purposes so you both don’t seem like complete losers with no experience when you start dating someone, you can at least put each others name on the resume “do you wanna kiss?”

“no” jake looked at you with puppy eyes “why not” just because this is not WHAT NORMAL FRIENDS DO MR.HOT AND GENIUS BESTIES “your breath smells bad” eyes out like that sad hamster on tiktok with violin bg playing “UGH WHATEVER” you kiss him as he smiles between the kisses, knowing you can’t resist him (damn hot mf) “love ya see you after the match”

— SUNGHOON PARK

takes you on dates, and i get that it’s normal but it’s not normal when he is taking you out alone with him every other week to ‘treat you’, because normal friends totally don’t eat at a fancy restaurant together or go on a late night drive without romantic feelings like girl who are you kidding? “don’t you ever think all this dates we go to without our other friends who you reject because you only want to be with me is the reason why people think we are dating”

“yes” he said cuddling you on his bed “and like this is not normal too you cuddling me, WAIT WHAT YES?” he kissed you forehead “yes but we aren’t just friends either you know” butterflies

— SUNOO KIM

cuddles all the time, whether it is out, in school or hanging out at each others houses, you both are all up each others, which has been pointed out so many times but sunoo really doesn’t care, he would rather feel your soft cheeks next to his than hear people about how this can be a whole scandal and lower the chances of you both getting any partners because people think you both are dating “sunoo can i get some water please i’m dehydrated” you try to wiggle out of the sofa you both were cuddling “nooo i will be cold”

“no you won’t be ugh get off me big baby” you try to push him as he gets up “so now you hate me” obviously he is faking it but you feel bad “im not i’m sorry sunoo what do you want me to do”

“date me”

— JUNGWON YANG

unusually long eye contact, and not the staring contest kinda way, but a loving and soft way, like he is expressing how much he loves you by staring at you, even when you are not looking at him he is always admiring you, asked at multiple occasions why he was staring at you and he just replies with ‘can’t i look at my best friend’ like sure so normal for a bestie to look at his bestie with love doe eyes. so the way he looks at you with undivided attention you might think he is listening to everything you are saying but no you got him wrong.

he humming at you talking about some dog you found cute on tiktok but he isn’t actually really listening and registering anything you are saying, he too busy admiring your plump lips that he would give anything to kiss right now “and then a blue cat said heya bro” he still looking at you “hmm that’s cool”

“YANG JUNGWON YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME” you said shaking him “i guess not, it’s hard to control myself from kissing you and still listen to you, i can’t multitask like that”

— RIKI NISHIMURA

has your face as his alternate face lock id, also lets you use his phone, you want his phone real quick okay have it, you want to see through his photos okay have it, you want to use his insta okay use it, the only thing you are off limits is the boys gc because shady business goes down there, people really think you are dating your bestie and how he is the most honest and trustworthy bf ever? like no he has thousands of feet pics in his camera roll and you haven’t heard any explanation from him yet? how is he honest.

“you are going through my dms?” riki asks as you play around with his phone “yeah and if that bothers you don’t worry im texting this pretty girl who slide in your dms, soon you would have a cute girlfriend all because of my rizz” he snatched his phone from your hands “what the hell i thought i blocked her? yn why are texting her-”

“why? did you get offended? i’m sorry i shouldn’t have, no matter how close we are” he face palms like an old man done with everything “i’m not offended because you texted her, i’m offended at the fact that i have such a dumb friend who can’t see i want her more then just friends” there star struck aren’t you