#and when I think of my youth (okay my YOUNGER youth)

[lemonadehtwooh]

For my AU, Holmes isn't addicted to drugs (for reasons I will elaborate on in the tags if anyone demands an explanation) HOWEVER instead, to make up for this, he's addicted to caffeine

This has lead me to imagining him absolutely slamming a heavy energy drink and turning to Da Vinci to sprout his usual nonsense. Da Vinci isn't even phased (all artists has been in a moment in their lives that they've done the same lmao)

[themyscirah]

This is technically a Diana's age poll but I framed it partially around Julia's rescue because that's the event I need to contextualize and whether or not Diana is a thing yet is p important for my purposes. I would keep the Pérez run and postcrisis continuity in mind when answering this bc that's when this is relevant but I'd keep in mind that even though Diana is very young there (like early 20s) we don't know I don't think if she ages differently as a child (esp as a themysciran AND being made from clay) and in some versions she is older than she looks and was made earlier

Edit: I accidentally logic-ed this out in the tags lol 🤦‍♀️but feel free to still vote however you want. Going to publish this anyway bc I think I made some good points later in my tags

[cerealmonster15]

i dont think i ever felt more annoyed at commercials than when those mean girls walmart ads were playing a few months ago or whenever that was

[firefly-fez]

I believe in you! 🎉

If it helps, the people who love your writing and cherish it will always enjoy it no matter what you produce.

I think many creators get a little anxious about the nature of creation because they wonder how far away they can stray from what they’ve done before. and have people still like their stuff, and get a bit stuck in the question of ‘what can I make that people will like?’ And when people respond well to most stuff or are a little unpredictable in what they respond to, the creator might feel like maybe people are willing to engage with any content they make just their clout or fame getting them attention and not the quality of the creation.

But I think creation is a process of sharing yourself with other people and people will always find it valuable because you are valuable.

So keep creating in whatever medium brings you the most joy and your audience will await happily whatever you make next. 💜

I mean, don’t be hard on yourself 🥺 You publish a new work of creative writing every Tuesday, you wax poetic with your brother in a lighthearted yet heartfelt podcast every week, gave us a whole collection of beautiful essays — whenever I talk to friends or family about why I like your work I always make a point to say that you are my favourite writer, but I do not say that you are my favourite author, because most of your writing is not books! Most of your beautiful words are not written, but spoken, either in vlogbrothers or one of your podcasts. My favourite line you wrote comes from the TAR (sorry for the redundancy) episode on Humanity’s Temporal Range: “We sailed across oceans to land we could not see and could not have known we would find.” I love that line because to me, it decribes the feeling of growing up. That is admittedly not what the line was about in-context, so forgive me for indulging a personal reading here not supported by the text. The episode itself may not have been about growing up in-context (perhaps as a species…in an abstract sense) but it was very much about growing up in the context wherein I engaged with that line. I listened to that episode of the podcast during COVID lockdowns, when I was only allowed to leave the house for one hour of excercise within a five kilometre radius. There are a few walking trails near me, and I had explored very little of them, only using them to walk to school or to work as I needed. The walking trail itself was behind the high school I used to attend. It was one of those schools that expands all the way from pre-school to the end of high school, and I had attended from fourth grade onwards, for nine years, from childhood to adulthood. The path came right next to the school’s oval, and you could see into the school grounds from the trail, the path where we used to run cross country, and the path would kind of do a lap around the school as it connected to other paths. I knew it well, but I had only walked the one set route to get where I needed to go, and I hadn’t explored the other paths other than the one that took me to school. When lockdown came, I took to walking there daily, and eventually growing bored of the route, I went down the unfamiliar paths, having a vague idea of my general area, but not really knowing where these paths would lead.

That’s what I was doing when I was listening to that episode, diverging away from the stomping ground of my childhood, thinking absentmindedly about how far away I was from the person I used to be when I was a student there, walking down an unfamilar path, without knowing where it would take me.

That’s what I was doing when I heard the line; “We have sailed across oceans toward land we could not see and could not have known we would find.”

It struck me that that’s what I was doing.

Maybe you’d agree, maybe you wouldn’t (you do seem to live a good critique of English grammar); but ‘up’ feels like the wrong preposition for the end of your childhood.

I didn’t feel like I was growing up, I felt like I was growing away from the version of myself that I used to be, and that in order to truly step into an adult life I had to fathom some idea of what I was growing into. To me, it felt like in order to have an intrinsic drive propelling me forward in life, I needed to find a way to navigate towards a new life — a life that I could not see and cannot know that I will find.

The line, in the context of the essay, meant something else entirely, of course, and I do not usually like to remove a sentiment from it’s context — but I guess there’s a difference between taking a line in the context of it’s writer vs. the context of it’s reader.

It’s my favourite John Green line ever 💜

I need a new book written by John Green. 

[rinhaler]

step daddy gojo, slapping you across the face before pumping his load onto while your on your knees getting face fucked off because he found out you were texting college boys 😣

mmmmm okay jealous daddy gojo i see i see 🧎🏽‍♀️

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, age gap, stepcest, mean!gojo, slapping, oral (m receiving), jealousy, degradation, oral creampie :P

words: .6k

Your heart shouldn’t race like this, not with a man you’ve known for so many years of your young life and into adulthood. He’s like a different person right now. You see a man who looks younger than he is, like he’s reverted to his youth and remembering who he really is.

“Are you listening to me, princess?” he asks, landing a harsh slap on your face right after.

Your face doesn’t return to look at him again. You’re too busy processing the fact that he’s struck you, a first for both of you. A shaky hand rests on your cheek, a feeble attempt to calm the burning sting radiating across it.

“Aah—!” you yelp as he strikes the other cheek, moving your face back to look at him again.

You gaze up at him like a servant in a throne room, and he folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes begin to tremble as he bends over at the waist, his face close enough to yours to kiss.

“Awe.” he mocks you when you close your eyes and tilt your head to close the gap between you both. He pulls his head back slightly, dodging your lips. He chuckles at the way your lip wobbles when you realise he avoided your kiss. Though your pout disappears as he repeatedly taps his leaking tip against your swollen lips. “How many cocks have you had in here?” he asks.

You try to answer, though you’re silenced when he pushes into your mouth. Your lips pucker and pout, so glossy and full as they wrap perfectly around your daddy’s pretty pink cock.

“Unff—” he grunts as he forces himself as far in as you can take him. His tip hits against your throat and you think he might cut off all circulation to your brain if you don’t learn how to do this properly stat. “Bet it’s a lot, if your texts are anything to go by.”

Your eyes go wide when he realises he’s been looking through your phone. He offers you a wide, toothy grin despite his eyes looking full of disappointment. Every dirty text message and lewd picture you’ve ever taken and sent swims through your brain. And he sees it, too.

“Can’t believe what a slutty little girl I raised.” he tells you, groaning as he rocks his hips. Your nose is tickled with each thrusts as snow white trimmed pubic hairs roll against your face. “Thought I taught you better. Raised you better. But daddy’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

He holds the sides of your head as he picks up the pace, coming undone at the sight of your eyes looking so concerned and worried as he suffocates you with his length. His balls slap against your chin, and your mind is filled with thoughts of how scandalous this is.

And yet, he sees the way you squeeze your thighs together.

It’s enough to make him blow his load.

“Good— good girl,” he stutters, balls emptying as he spurts rope after rope of thick, tangy cum down your throat. It coats your tongue as he continues to thrust, and you never expected it to taste like that. It’s so warm. “Do you like the taste of my cum?” he asks, pulling out slowly.

His cock twitches even while softening when he sees your tongue loll out while your jaw hangs low. A combination of cum and spit dribble from the corner of your mouth and tip of your tongue. What a pretty little girl you are.

“Y-Yes— aah!” you squeak, feeling a stinging slap land on your cheek once again.

“Naughty girl,” he speaks. “I better text all the boys in your phone for you and tell them you like your daddy’s cum the most.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[verstappensrealwife]

"Because he likes you!" - Lando Norris x Reader

angst, smut, fluff.

approx. 2800 words

warnings: slow burn?, sex, tiny hint of carlos sainz jr x reader, ofc sex. Reader “rewarding” Lando for winning!

lando norris masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

From the earliest memories of childhood, Lando Norris was a constant presence—a thorn in your side, a tormentor, a source of frustration. He revelled in teasing, in taunting, in making your life just a little bit harder. Your parents' dismissive explanation, "It's because he likes you," grated against your nerves, a feeble attempt to rationalize the torment. You did not like Lando Norris. Not at all. Not even the littlest bit. Not at all.

But hate was a strong word.

In your teenage years, Lando's torment took on a different form. The physical assaults of hair pulling and tripping you onto your face may have ceased, but the verbal jabs and the mocking laughter persisted, carving deeper wounds into your already fragile heart. It was as if he revelled in your discomfort, delighting in every opportunity to belittle and humiliate you, all under the guise of adolescent affection—a twisted notion that your parents foolishly labelled as "liking you."

Your family received the coveted invitation to his Formula One debut in Australia—an event that filled you with a conflicting mix of emotions. The pits pulsed with an electric energy, a cacophony of roaring engines and frenetic activity, cameras capturing every moment of the spectacle.

AUSTRALIA, 2019 With the guest pass draped around your neck, you navigated the bustling pits, your younger brother trailing behind you, wide-eyed with excitement. His adoration for Lando bordered on obsession, his youthful enthusiasm a stark contrast to the simmering resentment that burned within you.

Blehh!

You finally located the Orange garage, the vibrant hue catching your eye amidst the bustling chaos of the pits. With determination in your step, you made your way over, anticipation building with each stride. But as you reached out to tap the shoulder of the figure clad in orange- he was not the man you thought he was.

"Lando— Oh, hi, not Lando,"

The man before you exuded an undeniable charm, his smile lighting up his features and drawing you in despite yourself. There was an aura of confidence about him, a magnetic presence that commanded attention and left you momentarily breathless.

"Hello," he replied, his voice smooth and warm, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I could be Lando for you," he flirted, his words tinged with playful intent.

"Would rather you not, he's not my type," you quipped.

But before you could dwell on the awkwardness of the moment, your younger brother, who had been tugging on your hand impatiently, finally spoke up, his excitement palpable. "HI CARLOS!"

Carlos.

"Hi, little man." He looked down- not even noticing the young boy when you approached. "Is he...?"

"Not mine! Brother." You cleared up.

He smiled softly before turning his attention back to entertaining the 5-year-old, leaving you to absorb Lando's sudden presence with a mixture of surprise and nonchalance.

"Didn't think my biggest hater would come," Lando remarked, his hand landing on your shoulder with a familiarity that made you bristle.

"I'm not here for you," you replied with a smile, gesturing towards Carlos who stood nearby, engrossed in conversation with your brother.

"Him? Why?" Lando's skepticism was palpable.

"Well, just look at him—those eyes, that accent, not to mention those muscles," you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to indulge in some light-hearted banter.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop you right there," Lando interjected, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "He's not that hot," he insisted, though his tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

You chuckled in response. "Oh, believe me, he is," you insisted, your gaze lingering on Carlos as he interacted with your brother. "I would," you added casually, shrugging off Lando's incredulity.

"You would?" Lando's brow furrowed with genuine curiosity. "What would you do?"

Ignoring his question, you watched as your brother returned, proudly displaying Carlos' autograph adorning his shirt. "Bye, Carlos," you called out, offering a warm smile and a nearly imperceptible lip bite, to which Carlos responded in kind. Then, without sparing Lando another glance, you turned and walked away, leaving his unanswered question hanging in the air.

"WHAT WOULD YOU DO?!" his voice echoed after you, but you were already lost in the crowd, your thoughts drifting back to the captivating Spaniard you had just left behind.

After the race, as Lando jogged over to his and your families, the tension from the race began to dissipate, replaced by a mix of relief and begrudging acknowledgment. You couldn't deny his skill on the track, but that didn't mean you had to like him.

When he approached, surrounded by congratulations and well-wishes, you offered a lukewarm response, the bare minimum required to acknowledge his achievement. "Well, I mean I'm glad you didn't die?" you quipped, injecting just enough sarcasm to deflect any further attention.

Lando nodded in your direction, his own smile tempered by your evident lack of enthusiasm. You responded with a tight-lipped smile of your own, a silent reminder that while you might share the same space, any camaraderie between you remained strictly superficial.

SILVERSTONE, 2019

As Lando finished the race at Silverstone, notching an 11th place, you couldn't resist a playful jab at his performance. "Maybe one day you can get points!" you teased, your tone dripping with faux enthusiasm.

Lando's comeback was quick, his words laced with sarcasm, "Maybe one day you can stop being such a virgin." You burst into laughter, thoroughly amused by his attempt at banter, though he seemed puzzled by your reaction. His confusion only deepened when he followed your gaze to Carlos, who was nearby.

"Oh my god! Him?" Lando exclaimed, catching on to your playful insinuation.

Lando's playful challenge caught you off guard, his smirk daring you to match his boldness. "So if I DNF, you'll sleep with me?!" he quipped, his tone teasing but tinged with a hint of curiosity.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, suppressing a laugh at his audacity. "Pfft! You do that plenty! Win first maybe?" you retorted, firing back with equal parts sass and amusement. The banter between you continued, each remark a playful exchange that danced on the line between rivalry and camaraderie, reminding you both that despite any differences, there was still room for light-hearted teasing and mutual respect.

But you still didn't like him.

MIAMI, 2024

What a mistake! Because here you were, in the Miami heat, watching Lando beat Max by 5 seconds.

Honestly, you had forgotten that deal long ago.

Lando had not. He had thought about it at every close call of winning, every podium, every late night...

You were scared for him, you didn't like him- you just didn't want to see him fail... You don't like him...

When he passed the finish line he was shouting into his radio, thanking alot of people before you heard your own name.

"...and Y/N, I hope you remember Silverstone 2019!"

People looked at you for answers but you had none.

Until he got out the car, sweaty, tired, hot– warm! Because of the heat...You didn't think he was hot.

That was when you had the answer.

Gosh... Long day ahead.

As he practically flew out of the car, his eagerness palpable, he landed amidst a bustling crowd, his body unexpectedly colliding with yours. The force of the impact nearly sent you stumbling, but before you could fully register what had happened, his arms encircled you in a tight embrace. In that moment, amidst the chaos of the surroundings, there was a brief interlude of serenity as you found solace in his warmth.

But the tranquillity was short-lived. His whispered words shattered the fragile bubble of peace, leaving you reeling in disbelief. "Gonna fuck you so good tonight," he murmured, the unexpectedness of his crude remark contrasting sharply with the tender embrace moments before.

A mixture of emotions surged within you, a turbulent storm of confusion, disgust, and an unsettling flicker of attraction. It was a disorienting mixture, leaving you struggling to make sense of the conflicting feelings swirling within.

When he finally released you, his touch lingered, his hands reluctant to part from your waist. His gaze held yours for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange of unspoken words passing between you, before he abruptly moved on to greet the next person in the crowd. Left standing there, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had settled over you like a heavy fog.

Hours later, as you walked briskly towards the hotel, he trailed behind you, his presence an unsettling reminder of the encounter earlier. Unsure whether to match your pace or maintain a discreet distance, he hovered awkwardly, his uncertainty palpable in the air between you.

"This feels creepy, Lando," you remarked, casting a sidelong glance at him. "Just catch up with me; you look like a stalker."

"It's not creepy!" he protested, his cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment. "We're heading to the same room... for the same... things."

You raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in your eyes. "Things," you echoed with a wry chuckle. "You can say sex, Lando."

His blush deepened, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sex... with you. Wow."

"I... I thought the crush I had on you since I was, like, born, was pretty obvious," he confessed, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, a tentative gesture of intimacy.

The admission hung heavy in the air, an unspoken confession of long-held desires and hidden emotions. Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words, struggling to process the revelation.

You halted in your tracks, the weight of his words sinking in. "Huh."

"Yeah..." he murmured, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "Well, Repunzel was right—mothers do know best."

A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips as you resumed walking, his hand still lingering at your back. "It wasn't Repunzel; it was Mother Gothel," you corrected, a playful glint in your eyes. "And yeah—I'm a Repunzel fan, so what?"

His laughter echoed in the night air, a shared moment of levity amidst the weight of the conversation. "Shut up," he teased, gently nudging you as you walked side by side.

"Make me," you shot back, a playful challenge laced with a hint of something deeper—an unspoken invitation to explore the tangled emotions that lingered between you.

His laughter danced in the night air, a melody that seemed to weave around the unspoken tension between you. As his gaze met yours, there was a flicker of something more profound, a silent invitation lingering in the air.

A playful grin tugged at his lips as he leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his voice low and husky with anticipation.

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a timeless embrace. His fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, igniting a trail of sparks that seemed to dance beneath your skin.

With a gentle tug, he drew you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. It was a delicate dance of longing and desire, a silent symphony of unspoken emotions finally finding their voice in the touch of his lips against yours.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you melted away, leaving only the sensation of his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer with each passing moment. In that fleeting instant, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming rush of love and longing that seemed to bind your souls together as one.

And as you finally pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, there was a silent understanding that lingered between you— upstairs. Now.

The kiss continued unabated, an unrelenting torrent of passion that seemed to consume every ounce of your being. With each step towards his room, his touch ignited a fire within you, sending waves of desire coursing through your veins.

In the confined space of the elevator, his hands roamed freely, exploring every curve and contour of your body with an insatiable hunger. The air crackled with electricity as his touch lingered on the curve of your ass, his fingers tracing patterns of longing and desire against your skin.

The journey to his room was a blur of messy kisses and frantic touches, the urgency of his desire palpable in every brush of his lips against yours. His cock strained against the confines of his jeans, a silent plea for release that echoed the longing pulsing through your veins.

As he fumbled with the keycard, his impatience was palpable, his focus solely on the tantalizing promise of what awaited behind closed doors. The moment the door swung open, you were both consumed by a primal need that eclipsed all rational thought.

With a forceful push, you tumbled onto the bed, the weight of his body pressing against yours as the door slammed shut behind you. In that moment, there was no room for hesitation or restraint, only the raw intensity of two souls drawn together in a frenzied embrace.

–

"Was that Lando?" George asked, with popcorn and a bottle of water in his hands, looking over at Alex who held the same.

"What the fuck-"

–

His movements were urgent, desperate, as he sought to satisfy the burning desire that raged within him. He had barely been able to put the condom on with how shaky his hands were.

With each thrust of his hips, there was a raw intensity that bordered on reckless abandon, the rhythm erratic and frenzied. The sound of skin against skin filled the air, punctuated by the rhythm of your ragged breaths and the soft, breathy moans that escaped his lips.

His forehead was damp with sweat, pressed against yours with an almost possessive fervor. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, creating a heady cocktail of desire that hung thick in the air between you.

Every touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. His hands roamed your body with a fevered urgency, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he traced every curve and contour with a hunger that bordered on obsession.

In that moment, there was no room for restraint or inhibition, only the primal need to be one with you, to lose himself entirely in the depths of your passion. And as he surrendered to the intoxicating frenzy of desire, he found himself consumed by a blissful oblivion, lost in the heady rush of ecstasy that washed over him like a tidal wave.

You were a mess, a writhing wreck, unable to keep still as he pushed his entire cock into you. In and out, hitting the perfect spot every time. Each thrust earning another lewd moan from you. He was so proud he could make you feel so so good. But he couldn't keep going any longer after you came on his cock, the feeling making him so overwhelmed he couldn't keep it together as he came.

Not able to keep himself up anymore, he fell ontop of you.

"Ouch!" You giggle as he rolled off, beside you. You lay there, breathless and trembling, your body still pulsating with the aftershocks of pleasure as he collapsed beside you. His weight pressed against your side, a comforting presence amidst the disarray of tangled sheets and scattered clothing.

"So, how was that..." he ventured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a hint of uncertainty.

You turned to him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you met his gaze. "Surprisingly good," you admitted, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Surprising?!" he exclaimed, his brows furrowing in mock offense. "What, do I not seem like I'd be good?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his incredulous expression, reaching out to playfully tousle his hair. "Oh, you were good," you assured him, your voice laced with affection. "More than good, actually."

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, a sense of pride flickering in his eyes. "Well, I aim to please," he quipped, his tone light and playful. "Does this mean you'll go on a real date with me?"

"Maybe win again and we'll see!" You joked, making him playfully smack your leg. "Joking.. I suppose I can," You shrug.

"You won't regret it, I promise," he vowed, his tone earnest and sincere.

<>

He led you to a charming café nestled in the heart of Miami a few days later, the bustling streets alive with the vibrant energy of the city. As you settled into a cozy corner booth, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the tantalizing scent of pastries, creating a welcoming ambiance that enveloped you in its warmth.

"So, you and Carlos..." he began, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned in closer.

Your brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden topic of conversation. "What about him?" you questioned, the curiosity evident in your voice. "If it's about 2019, we didn't actually do anything," you clarified with a casual shrug. "Did go on a few dates though, but he met another girl he liked," you added, your tone nonchalant and unaffected.

The playful smirk on his lips faltered slightly, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "You didn't even— You didn't even sleep with him," he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief that drew the attention of a few nearby patrons.

Your smile remained unwavering as you shook your head. "Nope," you confirmed.

"I guess its because 'I liked you' or whatever..."

Okay so maybe you did like Lando Norris... Just a little- maybe a lot.

[barcaatthemoon]

brave || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy must put on a brave face when you go down during a game.

lucy could count on one hand the amount of times that she had ever been truly terrified. the fear that she felt whenever you went down was the greatest by far. it was almost like a sick joke. lucy didn't have time to be bitter about it, not when you obviously needed her to be there for you more. and so, lucy tried her best to swallow it all back to kneel next to you.

"hey bird, that was a nasty hit you took," lucy said. up close, it was so much worse. lucy had seen you go down, and momentarily had just frozen on the opposite side of the field. standing next to you, there was so much blood. that was nothing compared to the dazed look in your eyes.

"lucy, it hurts," you whined. lucy knew that you were about to start crying. she was certain the only reason you weren't yet were all of the younger players on the field. the one who had knocked into you was recently brought up from a youth team, and you didn't want to scar her.

"it's okay. i've got you. shh, just breathe for me," lucy instructed you. the medics came over and took you straight off of the field. lucy was subbed off as well, a decision that sarina made without second thought.

"keep a close eye on her for all of us," millie told your wife. lucy nodded and gave millie a quick hug as the woman went on for lucy. there hadn't been an official sub for lucy, but everybody knew that millie could handle it for a bit. there weren't that many minutes left in the game, and england managed to pull ahead early on.

"look at me bird." lucy gently grabbed onto your chin, forcing you to look up at her. "that's gonna leave a nasty cut, but i think i can get over it for a while."

"what a saint," you huffed. lucy smiled, glad that you could still joke with her. she knew that it was just an expression, but she was glad that the humor hadn't been knocked out of you. lucy could still remember whenever you had gotten a concussion back in college so bad that your career had almost ended. "are you also going to nurse me back to health?"

"of course i am. i'm not letting you out of my sight," lucy mumbled as she pulled you into a hug. lucy was incredibly gentle with you in a way that you knew meant she was terrified. "how are you feeling, really?"

"well, my head hurts like a bitch, but i am okay. i would be a bit better if you didn't look like you'd just seen a ghost. i got up lucy, i walked off of the field. it's not like last time," you told her. lucy swallowed back some tears. the memories of your injury still haunted her. it hadn't been all bad though. lucy had admitted her feelings for you that night at the hospital, even if she thought you were in a coma when you weren't. "you could have stayed and played on."

"nah, someone's got to give bright those pity minutes. she likes riling up the young ones when she's bored." lucy laughed a little, but you could still hear the tears behind it. lucy didn't let go of you until she was certain that she wouldn't just burst into tears. you laid back until the doctor came back to finish up your concussion tests.

you knew that you were concussed, it was just a question of how badly. your facial cut was superficial and didn't need stitches, which you were grateful for. lucy held your hand tightly as it was bandaged up before you went back to the locker room to wash up. the game had ended by the time you were finished, but the team was all seemingly waiting to see how you were. the fact that you hadn't been rushed off to the hospital was a good sign.

"you know, you just about gave bronzey here a heart attack," mary said as she slung her arm around your shoulders. she tried to pull you away from lucy, who did not loosen her grip on you one bit. "scared the rest of us pretty bad too."

"gotta keep you on your toes. as for lucy, she was very brave. kept a calm head with me through my tests." lucy blushed at your praise, but didn't argue.

"what's the verdict?" keira asked. you could see her, georgia, and leah practically shaking with anticipation.

"i'll be out for at least a month, maybe two. i am really sorry guys, i was hoping to see this through, but it's just the luck of the draw," you told them. almost immediately, you felt their bodies crash into yours. lucy was trapped in the hug as well, but you could tell from the way that her body sagged into it that she needed it.

"you can be our mascot. every time that we score, we'll do it for you," georgia promised. you ruffled the shorter woman's hair a bit before you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. the team seemed to be in complete agreement with dedicating the whole tournament to you, which you knew meant trouble for the other teams.

[shipsdoishipidk]

Dick introducing his lover to his coworkers:

Dick: Hi guys!

Coworker A: Hey, Dick. And who’s that behind you?

Dick: Guys I want you to meet my boyfriend, Jason!

Coworker B: …your boyfriend?

Dick: Jason say hi

Grizzled, massive 6 foot something Jason Todd next to youthful, slim 5 foot 8 Dick Grayson: yo.

Coworkers: h-hey. So uh. How did you guys meet?

Dick: well we first met when I saved him and then some things happened and then we got into a couple fights and then we got together!

Coworkers: *eyeing the size difference* fight?! Dick, can we talk to you for a moment?

Dick: Sure!

Coworker A: alone.

Dick: Sure…

Coworker B: *pulling Dick to the side* are you okay? Do you need help? Do you want to talk to someone?

Coworker C: yeah, you worked in the BPD right? They’d be more than happy to help if it’s you.

Coworker D: Let’s call them right now!

Dick: Woah, wait a second. I think you guys are misunderstanding something. Jason doesn’t hurt me.

Coworker A: Look, Dick, I know that…older men can sometimes appear more mature but-

Dick: Older? Older?? Wait you think Jason is older?

Coworker C: …isn’t he?

Dick: *laughing* no, he’s the younger one! I’m older.

Coworkers: what.

Dick: Yeah, he’s 23. And he treats me very well.

Coworkers: *unsatisfied* well, as long as you’re happy

Dick: *fondly* very.

Coworkers: *watching Dick lovingly hang off Jason as they leave*

Coworker A: So.

Coworker B: Daddy issues?

Coworkers C & D: Definitely

[tropes-and-tales]

Good Girl

Day 2:  Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count:  2996

AN:  This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you.  Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy.  He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it.  Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer.  Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits.  Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single.  The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up.  The little touches you chance:  brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in.  The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness.  In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says.  “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them.  “C’mon.  It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested.  You gotta be blatant with him.  He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?”  Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation.  Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.  

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless.  “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse.  I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again.  “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us.  I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”  

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck:  you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you.  Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside.  You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot.  You square your shoulders.  “Okay, I hear you.  I’ll be the brave one.”  A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath.  “And you’re sure he likes me?  You aren’t misreading this somehow?  I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.  

“Ah, kid, he loves you.  You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life.  Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster.  You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear.  “I was going to take a walk on the beach.  Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  You wanna go?  C’mon.”  You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance. 

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave.  The former tips you a knowing wink.  The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks.  He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit.  It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice.  You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it.  He seems comfortable just to be himself:  quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.  

Case in point:  you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one.  Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy.  If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.  

“Same,” you reply.  “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles.  “I do,” you admit.  “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them.  “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent.  He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.”  It comes out curt, two quick syllables.  A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement.  Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night.  You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there.  The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.  

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off.  “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob.  “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath.  If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward.  Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby.  Honestly.  I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…”  You trail off, lose your words like an idiot.  You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely.  You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses:  gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant.  His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy.  Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through.  “I know, honey.  Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you.  You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not.  Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find.  You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come.  You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you.  You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too.  He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh.  He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down.  You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.  

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin.  “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose.  You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.  

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease.  You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you.  He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.”  His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip.  “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out.  You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space.  At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you.  His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much:  the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts.  Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets.  It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks.  His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw.  He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin.  You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair.  You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed.  You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.”  He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat.  “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter.  You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid.  No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you.  A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank:  yes, you want to be his good girl.  Yes, you want to come for him.  Whatever he wants.  Anything he wants.  Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him.  “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can.  Yes, yes.  Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you:  you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge.  You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over.  His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it.  “My good, sweet girl.  Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him.  Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair.  ���Good girl.  So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes.  Only for you, Bobby.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I think it's canon that stan smokes and gets high when he was younger

So I'm thinking reader (they are as old as the og mystery twins) is the type to smoke when they're stress and they say that smoking/getting high clears the fog in their brain

So how do you think stan & ford react to this? I mean they know it's bad but it helps them

Most research about the negative effects of weed I found online, whether or not half of them are actual negative effects is beyond me.

Stan isn’t a hypocrite, he’s gotten high before and so he knows what state your life must be for you to resort to getting high as a stress relief.

He fully understands why you’d always resort to doing such a thing but would remind you that you could always come to him if anything was ever bothering you instead of resorting to getting high.

‘I appreciate it but I don’t want to bother you with what goes on in my head, half of the time I can’t even put it into words that best describes what I’m going through but with this,’ you raised your blunt, ‘it helps me in ways that talking to someone else never could.’

‘Okay, just know I’m here to talk toots.’ Stanley said as he patted your shoulder and left you be.

Stan did it to escape everything and avoid the consequences of his own actions, so much so that he often abused the substance on more then one occasion, but after Dipper and Mabel came for the summer, he has later learned to cut down his smoking sessions for the betterment for the twins and himself.

So whenever he sees you heading out towards your designated smoking spot- the top of the shack- he’d sometimes join you for a smoke, especially when Ford came back and had been nothing but a stubborn nuisance as you shared common worries while the smell of his cigarette and weed was all you could smell.

Neither of you spoke but there was a solidarity between the two of you until you were done. Stan knew that it wasn’t exactly healthy but he wasn’t going to cut you off weed completely if it helped when you needed it most, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t not join you to make sure you weren’t abusing the substance like he did when he was younger.

Ford fully understands that weed is a natural product that can calm people who suffer from anxiety and stress related issues, but over-usage of it was highly discouraged.

Ford knew his brother did similar things in his youth and hated it then, but knowing that you did also only made his distaste for the strong smell stronger as he would then avoid any and all areas that you smoked in, and yet the smell clung to you like second skin and Ford was reminded of how much he hated the stuff and would try to give you something that would hopefully act as a replacement for weed.

Unfortunately for Ford it didn’t work and by the end of the week you were back to smoking weed almost on the regular to destress.

He’d even list off the risks you’d run if you low using the substance.

CHS syndrome

Elevated anxiety

Paranoia

Psychosis illnesses such as schizophrenia

Addiction to weed, if you hadn’t already formed one.

Confusions and or potential hallucinations

And so many more but the more he listed the less you seemed to care as you had relied on the weed for a good majority of your life, and did so in controlled quantities but understood Ford’s worries regardless in the matter and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m fine Ford, I know it’s not exactly good for me but it’s the only thing that helps.’ You tell him.

‘I’m here.’ Ford replied, a little hurt that you didn’t think of him as a good option for distressing.

‘You’re far too busy in your lab or out monster hunting to sit still for ten minutes and listen to me talk about my worries.’ You said as though it was obvious. ‘So weed is my only resort to calm mind.’

‘Meditation exists, so does journaling and or scrapbooking?’ Ford suggests and it was obvious that he was trying to mitigate any permanent damage you might do to yourself in the future.

‘Not my thing and I lack the patience when this mind is loud as fuck.’ You shrugged before walking up to the top of the shack to smoke, leaving Ford a little at a loss of what he could do for you now. He didn’t condemn you for your usage of weed, but he just worries that an addiction will grow from it and he wants to be there for you, he just doesn’t know how…

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ every thought I'm thinking of is you; t.f.

synopsis: you never knew your parents had this much worry when it came to your college life, hiring a bodyguard for you, you just never expected to fall in love this quickly… let alone, let him be your first... content: fem!reader, bodyguard!toji, age gap, older man/younger woman, one sided love, slight obsession, reader is a little bit dramatic but she wants what she wants and what she wants is toji, love confessions, guilt, loss of virginity, pwp, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, aftercare (he is the king of after care ok), toji is a boob man, ambiguous/open ending, not beta read! note: okay but the concept of bodyguard!toji came to me a as a dream way before I wrote my leon fic where he basically becomes reader's guard... anyway, pls enjoy! I love dramatic endings, oops- title inspo (pls listen!)

Being a professional bodyguard meant being hired to protect those important, those who were wealthy. The array of politicians, actors, musicians—you name it—that hired him made his resume endless. However, this was a first. You were a first. Hired by a pair of rich folks to watch over their daughter who enjoyed her college years a little... too much. 

Being careless was quite the understatement. Sure, you were doing fine academically, excelling in your classes to get one step closer to your degree... but that didn't stop you from having a full college life. Even if you weren't in a dorm. What, with the success of your parents, you lived in a neighborhood near one of the country's most finest universities. There was no need to live on campus, you could stay home. 

Which is why you were always out at the wee hours of the night, not returning home until the sun rose. That was dramatic, but that was how your parents felt. You stayed up late, partied, got home at an ungodly hour and yet managed to be booked and busy the following day. No one knew how you did it, you just said it was you enjoying your youth. You thanked the universe for being blessed with beauty and brains, you weren't sure how you'd survive the life you were living. 

You just never expected your habits to be this concerning that you had to have someone watch over you like the others watched over your home and parents. You were used to bodyguards... but never one who almost always showed up everywhere you went. 

Toji felt like a glorified babysitter, and if it wasn't for how much your parents paid him, he would've never taken the job. He took his role seriously, he was a bodyguard and that's exactly what he did, especially when his salary was high, he had no questions. Just to protect. Even if the job was anything but easy. 

He had been through a lot in his career, the many death threats, nearly taking god knows how many bullets... the scars he's earned. Yet, nothing seemed harder than watching a young woman who wanted to live her life freely and carelessly. Especially a young woman who was nothing but a flirt and a tease. Wanting nothing more than to have his attention rather than ignore his existence. 

You, of course, never expected your personal body guard to be the sexiest man alive. Through and through. From head to toe. The dark, fringed hair. Those piercing green eyes that looked as if god got the exact colors of spring grass and replicated them in his irises. The build of his body, bigger than any man you had ever seen... so burly and strong. Arms so thick, muscles so wide. He was so broad, it made you salivate. You never liked men that were overly large. However, Toji? He was on another level. You wanted him. You needed him. No man ever made your mouth water or your body tingle the way this man did. All he did was watch after you, drag you home, and literally put you in your place. With the most indifferent expressions ever, almost never showing emotion even if there was a hint of annoyance in his tone when he scolded you. 

Yet, you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes, his words entering one ear and exiting the other as you gazed up at him. Your focus would settle on the scar that decorated his lips, you licking your own as you itched to kiss him. He had no clue the power he had on you. You were love drunk, completely smitten, he was the man of your dreams. As pathetic as it sounded, you wanted to even marry him. He could yell at you all he wanted, saying how you worry your parents and that he isn't your babysitter, but you'd still gaze up at him with the most loving eyes. 

Toji didn't know what he was going to do with you. 

It's probably what got him in this situation in the first place. 

He had stepped out to get some fresh air, processing the events that unraveled before him moments prior. Gathering his thoughts, trying to understand his feelings... trying to manage through all that had been going on that lead to this. He wasn't gone for long, just took a walk around the neighborhood to ease himself... he didn't expect to come back to your home with you completely missing. 

He called your name several times, searching every inch of the house once he found your window open in hopes it was all a ploy. You were an actress, quite the attention seeker when it came to him. You lived to make his heart race and play with his head. You enjoyed the cat and mouse chase, but something told him this wasn't that. This wasn't a joke. This was serious. And he hated it. 

"Cmon, answer me..." he grumbled, calling your cell phone, only to hear ringing coming from your bed. Shoving some of your pillows and plushies around, he growled. You left your phone behind. Did you actually leave out the window? It wasn't the first time... but you never left your phone behind. 

Rubbing his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose and huffing, Toji recalled the events that lead to this very moment. 

Your parents had been out of town for the weekend and you invited some of your friends over, sneakily stealing from their stash of liquor that wasn't so hidden. It was meant for gatherings or when either of them needed to lay back and relax. Your mother's best wine stacked up, your father's favorite whiskeys shelved. You couldn't recall how much you had consumed when Toji found you, kicking your friends out before handling you. 

You were a bit of a klutz while tipsy, a clingy mess who couldn't seem to let go of Toji. Like a leach, latching onto him and giggling. Hiccuping as you slurred your words. You were quite the lightweight—or at least drank a little too much. Toji had dealt with a drunken you before, always handling you to make sure you didn't go home like this. He was your savior, quite the massive angel when he sobered you up enough to avoid your parent's disappointment and wrath. Another reason why you fell so hard for him. 

Personal space wasn't a thing for you, you were all over him, hugging his arm, squeezing his bicep. Batting your lashes up to him, pressing your breasts against his side while dressed in that cute outfit that you'd sleep in. You had hoped to have your friends sleep over, but that didn't work out when Toji dismissed them. They were all used to him and never questioned him. Slightly annoyed, but they'd never cross a man like him. He was big and terrifying (and they knew you were head over heels for him).

It took everything in his power to keep things civil, asking you how much you had, trying to keep you from doing something you'd regret. However, that didn't stop you from pushing. You were persistent. You wanted what you wanted, and when you zeroed in on something, you'd stop at nothing. 

Settling you down and giving you water, making sure you chugged it all as he went through his usual routine to get you sober, you just sat there, happily. Gazing up at him and beaming with the brightest smile, you thanked him for caring for you. Going as far as calling him a true gentleman. He knew what you were doing, it was nothing new. Sighing and running his hand through his hair, he took your hand and pulled you up to your feet, leading you to your bedroom to get some rest. 

"Get some sleep, you need it," he said but you only whined. 

"I'm not tired," you frowned, shaking your head stubbornly and crossing your arms like a child. 

"You need to," he said sternly. 

"Nuh uh! Not unless you join me," you grinned but Toji shook his head. 

"No," he said your name in an almost warning tone. 

"Why not?" You pouted once again. "Why are you so dismissive of my advancements, huh?"

"Because I'm a gentleman," he said, using your own words against you. This making your pout deepen as you huffed. 

"I want you, Toji," you confessed, still frowning but looking away now. 

"You're just a kid, you don't know what you want," he dismissed as you rolled your eyes. You've heard that plenty. 

"I am not a kid, Toji. I know what I want and what I want is you." Without a second thought as Toji watched you stand on your bed, you grabbed the collar of his button down and tugged him in to you. Your lips slammed against his, not lasting any longer than a couple of seconds before Toji pushed you back. 

He was in shock, heart racing and eyes wide with confusion. Not that he never saw it coming, but a part of him almost nearly didn't want you to stop. And that was dangerous. He couldn't even have an inkling of desire for you. You were his assignment. Nothing more, nothing less. You were a child compared to him. A young woman with her whole life ahead of her, barely in her 20s and kissing a man in his mid 30s. "Don't ever do that again," he warned as you blinked a few times, frowning and eyes watering. "Get some sleep, you're not thinking straight," he said before storming out, shutting your door a bit roughly behind him. Leaving you there hurt, confused, angry and heartbroken. 

Snapping out of his thoughts at the not too distant memory that happened less than an hour prior, Toji cursed under his breath. He shouldn't have done any of that, shouldn't have handled the situation the way he had. Truth be told, he enjoyed your presence. He enjoyed your infatuation towards him. He liked that you were clingy and needy of his attention. It filled the void within him that he had struggled with for so long, using other women and gambling to cover it up. Who was he to have a girl like you by his side when he wasn't man enough? He wasn't the man for you. You deserved better. So much better. He wished you put the energy and effort you put into him, on to someone else. Someone more deserving. Someone more age appropriate. Not your bodyguard who was just a tamed assassin. A man who could kill and not feel an inkling of remorse. 

Yet, here he was, blaming himself and chasing after you. He couldn't let anything happen to you. Couldn't let you get hurt. Not only would he lose his job and possibly his head, but he'd never forgive himself if something were to happen and he never saw you again. Wouldn't forgive himself if he never had the opportunity to clear the air. God, what were you doing to him? Never did he care this much about a client! Let alone, a woman!

You couldn't be too far, he came back right when it began to rain. If you were smart enough, you were hiding out somewhere to avoid him. 

At least, he hoped. 

Of course, you, in all your dramatic wisdom, were walking in the rain. Arms clutching to yourself, trembling at the cold and the lack of layers on. In nothing but your pajamas and slippers. You were being over the top, but your mind was so clouded. Not only by the alcohol, but the fact that the man you were madly in love with rejected you. Sees you as nothing more than a child when you weren't. Just because you liked to have fun in your youth. Why did you have to fall for him? 

Crying as your head throbbed, barely able to focus on your surroundings, especially at a late hour like this one. You should've stayed home and just cried yourself to sleep. You were just so angry! You just wanted to leave and never see him again!

Suddenly, the sound of a booming voice shouting your name caught your attention. Looking over to see Toji exit his car and run after you, you quickened your pace. You wanted nothing to do with him, you didn't want to see his stupidly handsome face. You just wanted to be left alone, why couldn't he understand that?! 

Yet, here you were, being chased by him. You knew you wouldn't get far, he was too skilled and you may have ran from him a few times in the past only to be snatched up each time. Of course, even with that lingering in your head, you still hoped maybe this time you could escape him. Even if all those other times you ran with the desire of him catching you. This time? You wanted to be as far away from him as possible. 

Only to trip over uneven pavement. Lovely. 

Grunting and whimpering from the sudden impact, you were ready to force yourself up and keep going, only for him to snatch you up. 

"Are you crazy?!" He shouted in your face, hands gripping your upper arms as he shook you. "Do you know what time it is?! Do you know what could've happened to you?! You could've been kidnapped or killed!"

Feeling your blood boil as you panted, you pressed your small palms against him, shoving him off of you. "Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Continuously trying to push him away, Toji wouldn't budge. Growing frustrated and antsy, you acted before you even thought, your palm meeting his cheek as you slapped him. 

With a low snarl, Toji glared down at you, grinding his teeth. He couldn't understand why you were behaving this way, his denial towards you shouldn't have been such a big of a deal. It was a stupid crush, he was sure. Something shallow. So why did you continue to fight him?

Capturing your wrists and pinning your hands down as he pressed you against the light pole behind you, Toji hissed, "you need to start acting like a damn adult, not this childish bullshit—"

"Make me," you spoke through clenched teeth. You were shaking from both anger and the coldness of the late night showers. You looked deep into his eyes with, what could've been read as, deep hatred. He knew you didn't hate him, but you were furious. 

Feeling his heart race from the adrenaline, skipping a sudden beat from your threat, hating how they suddenly triggered something within, Toji snarled. He felt pathetic knowing he was feeling something he shouldn't towards you, fighting everything in him to suppress whatever it was, being why he reacted so roughly. Like he always did. "Stop behaving like a fucking brat. Grow up. You're a 20 year old college student. Not a 15 year old girl with a crush on her teacher. Act your age and stop thinking the world revolves around you, like you're invincible, when there are those who care and worry about you—"

"Fuck you!" You snapped. "You don't care about me!"

"Who says I don't?! I'm literally right here!" He shouted. 

"You're here because it's your job and so you can get paid!" You snapped back. "You don't care about me, not one bit! You never did! I was always just a paycheck! I hate that I fell in love with you!" Instantly regretting your words, realizing what you just said, you panicked. Looking absolutely mortified, you felt Toji's grip tighten around your wrists. You wanted to melt, puddle up and evaporate. Disappear from this universe. How could you let that slip?! Sure, you had an obvious crush but never love! At least, you wouldn't dare admit that!

Suddenly, you tried slipping from his grip, thrashing around to escape, punching his chest and telling him to let you go. Practically begging him to. Instead, he loosened his grip on one of your wrists and grabbed a fistful of your hair, angling your head as his lips collided with your own. 

It was far more intense than any other kiss you've ever had, the way he was practically eating your face. Tongue nearly down your throat, stealing every breath you had, saliva spreading in a sloppy manner. You didn't even think, your body acting before you could as your hands reached into his hair. Gripping and tugging at the dark locks roughly. Biting his lip hard enough until he bled, Toji hissed and landed a harsh smack against your ass, earning a yelp from you. 

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked in what was possibly the lowest voice he could muster. As if it was filled with anger, annoyance, worry and... lust. 

You couldn't even look at him, ashamed in yourself as you shook your head, speaking in the saddest voice, "I just want you to love me back..."

For once, Toji felt off guard, his eyes widening as his grip on you instantly loosened. His chest heaved as his heart thudded against his ribcage. It wasn't even pathetic the way you spoke, far from it. If anything, he felt bad that you wanted someone like from him. And he hated that a piece of him—a big one at that—wanted to give that to you. You did a number on him and you didn't even know it yet. Even in the rain his body felt like it was on fire, as if his skin would melt off. His mind was a mess, thinking about your confession and desires. How attached he's grown to you without truly realizing it. The interactions you've shared and the small advancements made. He hated that... a part of him knew he's fallen for you, too. Quite possibly since the first interaction when he told himself you were nothing more than a spoiled brat and to suppress those feelings... when, in reality, you were nothing but kind. A little wild and youthful, but you never did anything to make him hate you. Never did anything to make his job boring. You were a lot to handle but, he liked it. He enjoyed the thrill of the chase. He enjoyed you. But, god, did it feel so wrong for you to want a man like him with such a troubled past. With almost nothing to offer. 

"Fuck..." he cursed under his breath as you suddenly looked at him with pure confusion. Blinking in bewilderment. "I'm taking you to my place." Without a second thought, he lifted you up and took you to his car, driving you to his place and knowing very well this could end terribly for the both of you. 

But, he couldn't stop now, not with his hand on your thigh as he drove and not when he pulled you into his place when you two arrived. And definitely not when he stood before you, towering your figure as you looked up at him with those doe eyes that made him want to fucking melt. 

"Do you really want me?" He asked. "If you're not sure you can take it I rather you just shower and take my bed before I do something I'd regret."

"Toji, I want you so badly, it hurts," you nearly whispered in desperation, not wanting to lose any chances of having him. He had no idea how fast he made your heart race (or made your inner thighs ache) in deep need for him. 

Stalking towards you and cornering you as your back collided with a wall, Toji asked you once again, "are you sure?"

Nodding, you looked up at him with a shaky body, desperate to feel his touch. "Yes, please..."

Toji's hand instantly wrapped around your neck, thumb and pointer finger pressing against your jaw as he pulled you in. He lips smashed against yours, shoving his tongue past them with no hesitation. It felt like he was trying to consume you, exploring every inch your mouth had to offer, moans slipping past your part lips every time he'd sloppily kiss the corners of your mouth. The shared salvia smeared as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded. Your knees were just about to give out, your heart pounding in your chest and humming in your ears. Toji's grip tightened as his free hand slipped under your now soaked camisole. Groping and squeezing at your left breast, thumb brush against your hardened nipple before he pinched it. You moaned slightly into his mouth, panting against him as his tongue intertwined with your own. 

Easily lifting you up with one arm, he brought you to his bed, dropping you on it and wasting no time with undressing. He unbuttoned the dress shirt he wore, nearly tearing it off and doing the same with the shirt underneath. His shoes long gone as he tossed your slippers to a side. You sat up on your elbows, trying to catch your breath as you watched the god of a man strip before you. Sure, the suits he wore while on duty hugged his body painfully so, you knew this man was ripped. It was obvious with his towering size and broad shoulders... but to see him shirtless before you? Every line and curve, the shapes of his muscles bulging, the deep v cut and trail of hair that lead to what you needed most. You swore you were going to pass out. This was the man of your dreams, your soulmate, you knew it to be true. And now... you had him, nearly bare before you as he slipped off his pants and wore nothing but his black boxers. 

Toji gripped your ankles and tugged you close as you looked up at him, wide eyed and lips parted. Your chest heaved as he crawled over you, hand pressing against the back of your head, pulling you into a slightly gentler kiss. He still chased after your lips, still desired to taste you, but he wasn't trying to swallow you whole this time. Not that you would mind.  You'd give him everything if you could. 

His large hands gripped your waist as he adjusted himself, straddling you and leaning on his heels before reaching for the hem of your top. Eyeing you and the haze that fogged your eyes, he took in a sharp breath. "Are you sure about this?" Hearing you hum, he shook his head. "No, I need to hear you say it."

"Yes, Toji... Please..." you begged, voice nearly cracking in desperation and need of him. 

Taking in a deep breath, eyeing you once more, he lifted your top a bit to reveal your body, stopping midway before he could expose your breasts. "I won't stop until you tell me to."

"I won't," you shook your head stubbornly. "I need you."

Letting out a small huff as his head dropped, grip tightening around your top, itching to just rip it off and tear you apart, Toji bit down. You weren't like the other women, never would be, he wasn't going to just fuck you without a care. He had some decency. At least, when it came to you. He'd never admit to himself why. 

Lifting your top off and dropping it to a side, Toji took your body in, your curves and every little mark that were unique to you—whether it was a scar or freckle—it was as if he was mapping your skin. You were squirming, whether it'd be desperation, anxiety, or insecurity, Toji dove in. He gave your breasts the attention they deserved, taking one in his mouth and the other occupied in his bear paw of a hand. He licked at the skin as his fingers teased your other nipple, biting and breathing against the wet skin, making you tremble beneath him. 

He switched positions, moaning into your mounds in a sound you've never heard before. If you had to guess, by the way he gave your chest so much focus, how he sucked at them as if they were his life force, and the way he was basically humping you... you'd say Toji was a boob guy. Through and through, no matter the size, he just loved the feeling of the supple flesh in his hands, in his mouth... his aching dick between them, even. If you knew any better, and if Toji lost all self control, he definitely would've fucked them. 

But not now, not this time. It was his first time with you, he needed to learn your body. Explore every inch of it. What turns you on, what makes your eyes roll back, what has you seeing stars. 

Toji gripped at your shorts, tugging them down and tossing it onto your matching top. Kissing down your belly, nibbling along the way and leaving marks in his wake, Toji found himself nestled between your thighs. God, if there was something he loved more than boobs were a woman's thighs. Thick or not, he loved them, loved having them wrapped around his neck, suffocating him. If he had a way to go, it would be by them. 

Kissing your inner thighs, making it to the apex of them, the scent of your arousal was driving him insane. It felt as if he couldn't control himself, grip tightening around your waist as his finger tips dug into your flesh. Not seeming to care of you had a barrier blocking him, Toji buried his face further into you, nose nudging your clothed clit as you shuddered. The shock that was sent throughout your body made your heart race faster as you watched him. It was like he was in a trance, even with your panties still on. 

Burying his nose further into you as you trembled, Toji couldn't help but lick against the cloth, tongue nudging your bundle of nerves as your legs shook. "You better not muffle your sounds, I wanna hear it all," he warned as he looked at you, you instantly nodding. Grinning, he yanked your panties off before he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. Your pussy, in all its glory, bare before him. He couldn't help but grin at the sight, the scent driving him mad as he found himself rutting against the mattress. Truly, a woman's body was his ultimate weakness. 

Purposefully tossing your panties in a different direction to keep for himself (for future—personal—use, of course), Toji dove in. He didn't even bother to give a single warning. Open mouthed, practically making out with your pussy, your head fell back as you began to squirm. Your moans grew louder the further Toji teased you. With every lick and every suck of your clit, to the prodding of your hole with his tongue, you felt as if you forgot to breathe. 

Your thighs were clenching against his head, Toji's grip tightening to prevent you from suffocating him (even if he wanted to welcome it). The sounds were disgusting in a way that turned you. It was almost painful, how good it felt. The way he worked you open with just his tongue, slurping every bit of your essence that leaked. It didn't take Toji long to figure out how to make you come. It wasn't going to be the only time, anyway. 

You felt completely spent, lying almost limp before him. You should've known this man was an expert, but a part of you... that was rather innocent, had believed it was going to happen once when he was in you. Of course, you should've know once wasn't enough. No. Not when he introduced his thick fingers, spreading you open, pumping deeply into you as he watched you squirm. He was nearly getting off to it, the way you panted and moaned his name, smaller hands gripping at his sheets as your toes curled. He grinned to himself, licking his scar as he pushed your legs further apart, pumping his fingers faster into you, proud of himself for making you come a second time.

"Look at me," he demanded as your eyes fluttered open. Hooded and exhausted. You watched as he slipped his two fingers out of you, soaked in your release. He watched them in awe as you squirmed in embarrassment. Toji only made it worse when he brought them into his mouth, sucking with an obnoxious groan. It was then you noticed the painful bulge tenting in his underwear, an obvious wet spot that had formed. Did he get off... to you getting off?

"Fuck... 'm not gonna get used to that. Best I've ever had. So fucking good," he breathed as you took in deep breaths. "I think you're ready f'r me."

Gulping as he stood up to strip his underwear, an audible gasp left your lips as you eyed his cock. The tip red and leaking. Oh, you definitely weren't going to handle that. It was monster sized, there was no way no amount of prep would prepare you for the girth of his size. 

"Don't worry, I'll make it fit," he smirked, the twitch of his scarred lip making you let out an uncontrollable moan. He was hot and he knew it... and somehow that made it all the better. 

Kneeling before you and gripping your thighs, parting them and aligning himself with you, he reached in between and coated his length with your juices, pumping a few times before pushing into you. A gasp got caught in your throat as you nearly choked. Just barely in and you were squirming. "It's— Too big!"

"Too big? You were so desperate earlier," he nearly whispered, voice low and sending a chill down your spine. He pulled back and pushed further in, the stretch stinging and bringing tears to your eyes as you bit your bottom lip. "You can take it."

"Too much— 's too much," you breathed, hand gripping his forearms as if it would stop him. 

Instead, Toji laughed, pulling back and pushing in. Thrusting in and out at a steady peace to let you adjust to his size—until he began to reach deeper. Feeling as if you couldn't breathe, Toji leaned into you. Fucking you slowly and deeply, he left open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulders, biting the skin and leaving his mark behind. He couldn't help but lick at you, the sweat that was beading on your skin. You were intoxicating, he couldn't seem to have enough. All the little sounds, how you moaned his name. The way you begged. How your legs wrapped around him, keeping him in deep even if you cried that he was too much. 

He lifted his head enough to kiss you, tongue meeting tongue as he moaned into your mouth. God, it was all so much, yet... not enough. You wanted more, your body craved him. Your nails clawed at his back as your heels dug into him. He bit and sucked your bottom lip, lifting himself to look at your fucked out face. Swollen lips, teary cheeks, sprawled out hair soaked from the rain. You were an angel straight from heaven sent to him. He couldn't get enough. He needed more. More more more. 

Licking your tears away, deepening his thrusts as he grunted in your ear, your eyes rolled back, seeing galaxies the way his cock reached so deeply into you. You were sure he was going to mold himself against you. "Toji— I— I'm—" you were at a loss for words, mind going blank as you felt that chord within you snap. You came so hard, body trembling and overstimulated that you cried out while pulling at his hair. Toji rode it out, caressing your head and praising you as he continued to thrust in and out of you. 

"You did so good, so good. My good girl. You did so good," he praised as you trembled beneath him. Feeling his own orgasm building up, Toji eyed you and nearly came at the sight of your fucked out face. He fucked you dumb, he was sure there was no thoughts in that little head of yours. "In or out?"

"In— In..." you breathed, eyes barely able to stay open as your hands fell limp against his back, lost in his locks as you tried catching your breath. 

"Look at me," he said as you gulped, eyes fluttering open. He kept his focus locked on you, thrusting a few more times before stilling, coming deeply within your womb without looking away. It was almost the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You weren't sure how he did it, so enthralled by those emerald eyes, you were afraid that you'd do whatever he said with how hypnotized you were. 

Staying in you for a moments worth as his forehead pressed against your own, breathing each other in, Toji pulled out, earning a whine from you. Nearly flopping on his back, catching his breath as his heart raced, he rolled to his side and snuck a hand in between your legs, feeling the way his come was leaking from you before he gathered it and plugged his finger into you. You let out a small cry, turning your face to hide into his chest. 

"Can't let any of it go to waste, can we?" He asked as you shook your head. Toji moved to leave kisses down your thigh as he pulled his hand away, lifting your legs enough to eye the way his seed pooled beneath you. All the guilt was out the window with how clouded his mind was. Having you this way, you giving yourself to him even if it was all so very wrong. 

He hated to admit, he doesn't remember the last time he had sex like this that wasn't a way just to fulfill himself and only himself. Instead, he was getting off to you. Getting off to the way he made you feel. Especially that blissed out expression on your face... If only he could fuck you again and again and again until—

Toji stopped himself there before the thoughts got worse. You were spent, exhausted and probably unable to move a single limb. He had to clean the both of you up. "C'mon, can't stay like this, as much as I'd love to." Patting your thigh as you groaned, he leaned in and left a few more kisses against your lips, you lazily reciprocating them. 

Toji lifted you in his arms and brought you to his shower. Your body was shaking and legs were surely weak. He made sure the water was warm enough for the two of you, helping clean one another in sluggish movements (more from you and your exhaustion). Toji dried you up after, wrapping a towel around his waist as he helped ruffle your hair with the towel and dress you in one of his shirts. He sat you on his couch with a cup of water as he changed his bedsheets. Bringing you back to the bed, cuddling up against one another as you tried to morph into him, desperate for his warmth, you nuzzled his bare chest. His scent was intoxicating, your eyes falling heavy as you felt your body being carried away into your world of dreams. 

"I'm so thankful you're my first," you mumbled sleepily. Toji's once droopy eyes shot open. 

"I was... your first?" He asked with all sorts of hesitation. You were a virgin... and he took your virginity? 

"Mhm... I was saving myself for someone special enough. Guess that was you," you said before falling asleep, deep enough to not have an inkling that your words would be the reason why Toji hardly slept that night. 

Toji took you home the following day bright and early before your parents returned from their business trip. You freshened up and felt a sense of ease and happiness that you've never felt before. Ready to return back to Toji to say your goodbyes as he spoke to your parents, you found yourself hiding behind a wall as your heart skipped a beat and smile dropped at his words. 

"I apologize for the late notice but I'll need to take a leave of absence. I already have a few people lined up that can take over my position," Toji said. "I'll give you their contacts."

"What happened? Is everything alright?" Your father asked. 

"It's personal reasons I rather not disclose, but I assure you these people can watch over your daughter at a level almost nearing mine."

"I hope all is well, thank you for all you've done for us. Will we be seeing you again?" Your mother asked. 

It was what felt like hours before Toji spoke up again, leaving you with a heavy heart that dropped to your feet at his last words, "I am unsure," he admitted. "I wish nothing but the best for you."

Those last words weren't directed towards your parents, it was almost as if Toji knew you were listening. Was he really abandoning you after last night? Did your confession mean nothing to him? Did he... use you? Your bottom lip began to quiver as your eyes pooled up at his last words:

"Take care."

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I have the most random and oddball question... What would be some expletive type language in Welsh?

I'm playing a dragon in my D&D group who is from this fantasy world's equivalent of Wales and I want to add some flavor when he is fighting that he starts using bits of his mother-tongue instead of Common.

It's easy enough to find a random list of words, but without cultural context I have no clue what would be a proper equivalent of, for example "fuck off you asshole"... I probably am putting "too much" thought into it, but I'm a cultural anthropologist, so it bugs me to not think too much about it.

A funny quirk of Welsh is that we actually tend to swear in English when we need to - because one of the social arenas it survived in was through the chapels, the closest you'd get are things that in English you'd probably associate with your granny saying, or those sad little Christian youth camps in America. One of my favourites is Nêfi blŵ, which is literally just the Welsh transliteration of the words 'navy blue' said in a Welsh accent. Why is this a swear? Unknown. I presume someone somewhere hated the colour.

However, there are a couple:

Sweary

Sguthan/ysguthan: this is probably equivalent to 'bitch', it's certainly gendered the same way and has similar weight. Except much as 'bitch' literally just means a dog, sguthan means 'woodpigeon'. Why is this a swear? Unknown

Cach i fant: fuck off. 'Shit off', literally. Tbh though I don't actually know anyone who would actually use this. Mileage can and will vary wildly (keep an eye on the notes for other Welsh speakers chiming in), but this one always felt a bit like a sheep's eyeball to me, to use a Pratchett-ism. Like something Golwg would use to Appeal To The Youth. But, it is real, and does work.

Dos i ffwcio dy hunan: go fuck yourself. Now THIS one I use

Twll tin bob ____: Every ____ is an asshole. Naturally, the phrase in Wales is 'Twll tin bob Sais', but substitute Sais for the group of your choice.

Cêr y diawl: go to hell. Literally, 'go to the devil', with devil there being a reasonable stand-in for any devil you wish, not just, like, Satan.

And of course, Wenglish can provide:

Be'r ffyc 'dy hwnna: what the fuck is that

Pwy'r ffyc 'dy hwnna: who the fuck is that

etc

Non-Sweary

Bois bach a mawr: okay listen this is going to sound like I'm joshing you but I swear this is real. It's used by an older generation, admittedly, but even younger generations will say 'Bois bach' sometimes. It, uh. It literally means "Big and little boys". Or just "little boys". Just a sort of general mild exclamation. Or what you say when you sit down and your knees complain. Um.

Ych a fi: gross. Can also be Wenglished to 'Ych a ffycin fi' which is, you know, fucking gross.

Be' ti 'di 'neud?: what have you done?

Be' sy'n bod 'da ti?: What is wrong with you?

Cô ni off, bois!: Off we go, lads (gender neutral)!

There's probably a million I'm forgetting and will think of as I try to sleep tonight, but hopefully these will tide you over. Keep an eye on the notes, I expect others will chime in with further suggestions!

[bloodibambiidoll]

Angel Face, Devil Thoughts

Summary: The first time Rafe Cameron saw you, he knew he had to have you. Whatever it takes. Wk: 6.8K

•This is a collaboration with @babygorewhore🖤 I had so much fun working on this with you baby, I love you so much!!!•

Warnings: Possesive!Rafe, obsessive behaviors (Rafe and reader), kidnapping, drugging, kinda clueless reader (or is she…?), daddy kink, borderline stalker behavior, spanking, hair pulling, jealous!Rafe, bondage, age gap (Rafe is 35 reader is 26), spit kink, oral, unprotected sex. Dark fic, 18+MNDI!! (Divider by me)

Rafe Cameron’s legs turned as he swung the golf club, perfectly hitting the ball as it landed near the hole in the ground yards ahead. He smirked to himself. Topper clapped a hand on his shoulder. His grip firm and Rafe cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know how you do it. I’ve never beaten you.”

Rafe shrugged. “No one can,” He chuckled and scanned the scenery of the yards ahead of him.

It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too hot and he was able to wear nicer clothing than he usually did for golf. A simple button down shirt and comfortable pants allowed him to easily pick up his bag of clubs and make his way to the small section of the park where food and drink was served. By Pogues and the middle class.

But he wasn’t as involved in the war between kooks and pogues. At 35, he truly had better things to do. Run the empire and look after Wheezie who was a young teenager now. After Wards death, his sisters random marriage, his own growth over the years, Rafe just wanted to make money, fuck, and…make more money.

But then his eyes widened and he almost stopped short when he saw you. And his entire world came to a halt.

You were wearing a simple outfit, a little black tennis skirt and a polo tee that bore the logo of the franchise representing the park. Your hair was out of your face, you were wearing makeup and you were currently talking to Wheezie, who giggled and blushed at a young boy across from you both. Rafe’s footsteps slowed but he continued your way. He was close enough to hear the conversation.

“I think he’s really cute. But I don’t know how to approach him.” Wheezie complained and he wanted to roll his eyes over her thirtieth crush of the week when you smiled at her. And he melted inside.

“That’s okay. All you have to do is wave and smile. Men are easy.” You winked at her and he swallowed thickly.

You were so beautiful. Delicate. Angelic. Perfect. You radiated kindness and a youthful spark that he hadn’t exposed himself to in a long time. He was probably about ten years your senior but he didn’t give a shit. When he saw Wheezie walk away from you and your adorable smile continued to grow, that's when he decided.

You were his.

He cleared his throat and prepared to further approach you after abandoning Topper. He had no issue with shyness or other bullshit younger men dealt with but something about you made him hesitate. Why were you working? Someone as perfect as you deserved to be treated gently, like a princess. You needed to be kept.

Rafe could do that. Easily.

As he walked to you, your pretty doe eyes looked up at him, and a smirk so faint crossed your face that he almost missed it.

“Haven’t seen you before. Sorry if my little sister annoyed you. But I have a soft spot for her.” Rafe didn’t bother with introducing himself. You’d be screaming his name soon enough.

“Hi,” when you gave him your name, he almost got chills. Even your name was perfect. You were an angel. The way your feet rolled, trying to shorten the distance between you both was adorable. “She was cute! I remember my first crush.” You twirl your hair and Rafe gave you a hum of approval.

“What’s a pretty little girl like yourself doing working here? With looks like that, I figured you’d be a model.” Rafe complimented and instead of becoming shy, you batted your eyelashes and grinned.

“I’m thinking about it.” You glanced back at the bar cart, “but I have to get back to work. It was nice to meet you finally, Rafey.” The nickname made his lips quirk in a sadistic smile. A nickname already? One he never allowed others to use.

But you weren’t anyone.

You were his little bunny.

Rafe stayed longer than usual, watching you from a distance and leering at the way your skirt hugged your ass and hips. You were a little clumsy but he enjoyed that. He knew you’d have to rely on him for everything. You needed him.

When you clocked out, Rafe was horrified to see you start to walk down the road. You didn’t have a car. And that made him feel rage. How could someone allow you to walk home alone? He certainly wouldn’t. Not his pretty kitty.

Rafe marched forward, catching up with you before his hand gently touched your arm. “Pretty girls shouldn’t have to walk home. Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

He expected you to deny it but then you grinned and nodded rapidly.

“Yes! That sounds great!”

This would be too easy. But he was worried. What if a bad man got a hold of you? How would he live with himself if something happened to you? He’d never let it go. No. His darling little girl would never get hurt.

“Come on. My car is this way.”

Rafe lagged behind you ever so slightly, despite his legs being much longer than yours. He couldn’t resist getting another peak of your ass in that little uniform. He also couldn’t resist when you stumbled as he was helping you into the passenger seat and one of his hands landed on the skin of your ass just under your skirt. He had to hold back a chuckle at the sight of you displaying yet another act of clumsiness. You were so helpless, fragile, too good for this world. He had to protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you, even yourself.

“Alright, Angel face, where am I headed?” Rafe buckles himself in, one of his long fingers hitting the push to start on his fancy sports car. He glances over at you, noticing that you haven’t buckled yourself up yet. He lightly shakes his head before leaning over the center console to buckle your belt for you.

“Oh, thank you, Rafey.” You run your fingers down his forearm, batting your lashes at him again. He takes note of your chipped nail polish, he’ll have to remedy that immediately. He’s definitely going to be calling the nicest salon on the island first thing tomorrow. Get you the full treatment, hair, nails, massage, whatever you want. “It’s on figure 8, I’m actually staying three houses down from you, I think. It’s my grandparents old house.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about their passing. I’m sorry about that, doll.” He smiles at you softly, earning the cutest little grin in return. “Is that what you’re doing here? You inherit their house or something?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. They left it to my mom but she doesn’t have any interest in living here so her and dad are selling it. We came here to go through all their stuff and get it ready to put on the market.”

“What about you? You like it here?” You cross your legs, and Rafe can see how deliciously your thighs squish together out of the corner of his eye. He stifled a groan at the sight.

“Yeah, it’s nice. It’s a lot different from my hometown but it’s really pretty here. And I make better money than I did at my waitressing job back home.” Your voice is so cute, Rafe wants to drown in it.

“If your moms parents left her all that money, how come you’re working?” He takes a chance to look over at you at a red light, eyes roaming your form, committing as much as he could to memory.

“They are still dealing with all the legal stuff, and I don’t really know if they’ll even give me any. I don’t think they trust me with it. I haven’t always made the best life choices.” You sigh, a frown spreading across your lips, a crease in your brow. Rafe hates it, how dare they upset you? How dare they not help you? If you aren’t great with making choices, he doesn’t mind making them for you.

“Ah, makes sense. But a pretty girl like you? You deserve everything you could ever want. Waited on hand and foot.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you, Rafe. But I’ve always worked for what I want, ya know? I don’t really mind it.” You shrug your shoulders, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Well, I think you deserve better than that, s’all im saying. I’m gonna set up a spa day for you, alright? What are your days off?” This is a win, win for him. He can spoil you a little and figure out your work schedule.

“Oh! You don’t have to do th-“

“Angel, I don’t have to do anything, but I’d really like to do this for you. Let me.” It comes out like more of a command than a request and he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat at his tone.

“Alright, if you insist. I work Tuesday to Saturday every week. So I have tomorrow off, since today is Saturday.” You smile at him, and he thinks it’s adorable how proud you seem to be stating simple facts. You seemed like a bit of an air head but Rafe didn’t mind, he liked that, it would be easier to guide you.

“Okay, I’m gonna call and make you an appointment for tomorrow.” He pulls into the driveway of your grandparents home and takes his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Put your number in here and I’ll text you the details.”

Your smile is wide and he feels like he can practically see a sparkle in your eyes. He wants to give you the fucking world. You add your number to his phone, putting yourself in as “Angel Face” with a little bunny next to it. You give him his phone back and he smirks down at it, you were almost in too cute to bare.

“Well, thank you so much for the ride, and for tomorrow too! You’ve been so kind to me and you hardly even know me, I wish I could repay you somehow.” A little pout forms on your lips as you look up at him through those god damned lashes.

“I’m sure we can figure something out, Angel face. For now, be a good girl for me and get inside safely. Make sure you lock the door behind you. I’ll text you soon about your little spa day.” He smirks at you, resting his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. The cutest little squeak leaves your lips and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when you moan his name. “Also, no more walking home, alright? I’m usually done with my work shit by the time the club closes so I’ll pick you up from now on.”

You look like you’re about to protest, but it’s almost like you think better of it. Instead you give him one of those sweet smiles.

“Sounds good, thank you again, I’ll make sure I’m a real good girl for you. Get lots of rest for my big day tomorrow. Good night Rafey.”

“Night, Angel.” You pat his hand before grabbing your purse and exiting his car. He swears you bent over a little extra to give him a flash of your little black panties, but he’s not complaining. As long as he’s the only man you’re doing that for. He’s totally and utterly addicted to you already, and he won’t stop until he owns you completely. Rafe quickly calls the salon owner's private number, knowing they’re probably closed by now. He offers her however much it takes to get you in the next day before typing out a text to you.

Your appointment is at 12:30 tomorrow, I think baby pink stiletto nails would compliment you well. I'll pick you up at noon, don’t be late. Sweet dreams, bunny.

Rafe eagerly pulls into the salon parking lot the next day. He picked you up at noon on the dot, you came bouncing down the driveway with a bright smile on your face. He must say seeing you out of your work clothes was a spiritual experience for him. You were wearing this little black mini skirt, and a little light pink tank top. You had on the most impractical shoes for a place like this, big, chunky, studded platform Mary Jane’s, with little white ruffle socks. The thing that really did him in though? The black o-ring choker around your neck. It was all so contradictory, the pink, the studs, the little socks. He’s never seen a girl like you in all his years. He needs you so badly.

Last night felt like one of the longest nights of his life, he never thought he could miss someone he just met so much. But he was up nearly all night, his thoughts riddled with you. Your thighs, the way your tits looked in that little work polo, the way your ass would bounce when he fucked you from behind. Rafe has never jerked off so much in one night. Not even when he was younger. All he can think about is filling you up, spoiling you, maybe putting a few babies in you once he’s gotten his fill of alone time with you. He walks into the salon with a pep in his step, his eyes scanning the room for your beautiful face.

His features immediately harden when he spots you though. You’re sitting pretty in one of the plush pedicure chairs your feet propped up while a man paints your dainty little toe nails. His nostrils flare, anger surging through him at the sight of another man’s hands on his angel. His expensive loafers thud against the ground as he stomps towards you.

“Rafe, hi! You’re early! But this is the last thing, so you shouldn’t have to wait for long.” You give him that saccharine smile, completely oblivious to his internal meltdown.

“Hi angel.” He smiles at you, but he doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You about done with my girl here?”

He looks down at the man as he coats the polish on your toenails, wanting nothing more than to cut his fingers off one by one for even thinking he’s worthy of touching you. Let alone doing it. He doesn’t give a shit if he’s paying.

“Yeah, this is the last step then I’ll have her out of here.” The guy smiles at him before returning to his task.

“I didn’t know dudes worked at places like this.” Rafe scoffs.

“Rafe! That’s kind of a rude thing to say… Everyone here has been so helpful and kind! I’ve had a great day!” Your lips form into a pout, your brows furrowed. The last thing he wants to do is upset you, or scare you off. He needs you to trust him. Plus he’s not the same hot headed guy he used to be, he’s a man now. He can keep this to himself.

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Thanks for treating her right, man.” Rafe forces the most polite smile he can muster in his direction.

“No problem, just doing my job.” He taps his fingers against the polish, making sure it’s dry. “Which I’m all done with, you’re free to go ma’am. You can pay up front.”

“Thank you so much!! They look perfect!!” You wiggle your toes, your hands clapping together excitedly. You’re so cute Rafe hardly remembers why he was mad, hardly. He still wants to singe that guy’s finger tips off. “You like them?”

“Yeah bunny, those are gorgeous.” Rafe smirks, pleased to see the baby pink polish on not just your fingers but your toes too. You even went with the shape he suggested. You’re such a good girl already.

He walks you to the counter, using his black card to pay for everything. He even leaves a generous tip, despite how much he’s still simmering with jealousy over that man touching you. He wanted to make a good impression on you, he needs you to see how perfect he is for you.

“Lemme see you, pretty girl.” Rafe offers you his hand so he can spin you around, a low whistle escaping his lips as you twirl. “Gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, thank you! I really had such a great day. I got a massage. Then they did highlights and a blow out on my hair. And of course I got these pretty nails!!” You giggle, holding your hands out to him to give him a closer look.

“Very pretty, bunny. The little bows are a nice touch. I knew that color would be perfect for you. You ready to go?”

“Yup! All set.”

Rafe leads you out to his car, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt just like he has the last two times you've been in it. He drives towards your grandparents house with an almost uneasy feeling. He doesn’t want to let you go yet. Or ever. He left you alone for a few hours and regardless if it was his job or not another man had his hands all over you. He didn’t like it. You were too precious to be going around without him. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

When he pulls up to your house you thank him over and over again, telling him no one has ever done anything this nice for you before. How could they not have? You deserve a thousand times more than just this, and he’s going to give it to you. You lean over and leave a sticky lipgloss kiss on his cheek. His heart feels like it’s nearly going to burst out of his chest and he has to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out and kissing you like his life depends on it. You make sure to bend over again when you get out of his car, and it just drives him even more crazy. He was going to make you his, by any means necessary.

Rafe carefully selected another item into the cart as he walked down the aisle at the store. The aisles were nearly empty since he picked the perfect time to arrive and buy things for his little girl. His shopping was usually done by someone who worked for him but how could he allow anyone to touch things that were yours? Only he could give you these things. His little angel wouldn’t ever have to worry about anyone ever again.

In the cart were stuffed animals, blankets, decorations and even coloring books. He had already assembled the basics in the bedroom he specifically designed for you two days later after he had been driving you home. The room would be ready tonight.

His caretaker nature allowed him to easily pick up on things you liked. Soft, sweet and gentle natured you. His baby girl.

As he returned to his home with several bags, he didn’t allow anyone to put things away. The room was a soft pink color. Completely removed of any objects that could cause you harm. Stuffed animals, a tv set, a computer that would be monitored, and a soft bed with fluffed pillows. Rafe stood straight and admired his work. Yes. This was perfect for a sweet girl like you. Everything about this plan would go perfectly. His little bimbo would fall for his trap and he didn’t have a moment of doubt or guilt. Why would he? You needed him. And he wouldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.

Like clockwork, Rafe heard the doorbell ring and he knew it was Barry. Here to accomplish his part of the task at hand. Rafe opened his front door after begrudgingly leaving your bedroom and Barry leaned against the frame.

“Sup, country club.” He dangled a bag full of small pills. “Got the dough. You have my money?”

Rafe handed over the wad of cash and accepted the plastic bag. “This better be the real fucking thing or I’ll kill you.” He warned and Barry smirked.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so scared of you big boy. Pretty fucked up though. What you’re planning to do with that chick. But it’s safe I guess. Not gonna hurt her.”

“That’s all I need to know.” Rafe pressed the bag against his chest and Barry crossed his arms.

“Ain’t ever seen you like this, bro. When you gonna get her?”

“Tonight. When she’s on her way home. Pretty little bunny doesn’t have a car. She’s making this easy for me.” Rafe chuckled.

“Aight, I don’t need to know anymore.” Barry held his hands up and walked away towards his bike. “Careful, Rafe. Sounds like you’ve really fallen for her.”

Rafe nodded and a twinge of emotion made him feel warm. He swore to himself he’d never fall in love. And now look at him. Planning on taking this poor girl but he was doing her a favor. She was his and his alone. He would protect her. Even if it was against her will. Even if it meant forcing her.

Later, Rafe was in his car waiting to pick you up with your favorite drink. A milkshake. His trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as the minutes went by on his digital clock.

You will be coming out soon. All his. His precious baby. Rafe craned his neck and finally saw you walking towards his car. His body tensed and his cock twitched with adrenaline as you smiled when you saw him. Twirling your braids, you waved at him while approaching the car with a half slip.

“Hi, Rafey! You’re right on time!” You said as you happily slid into the car.

Rafe nodded. “Of course I am, baby. I’m a man of my word. Here, I got you something, Angel.” He handed you the milkshake, his fingers twitching as you grinned and immediately wrapped your lips around the straw. You moaned at the taste and his mouth watered at your pretty sounds.

You fell for it.

Rafe inhaled slowly as he started driving, but not in the direction of your home. It didn’t matter anyway, you were drinking too eagerly to really notice.

“It’s a pretty day, Rafe! Almost as pretty as you are!” You giggled and Rafe reached over, placing a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze.

“Thank you, bunny. You’re such a sweet girl you know that? My sweet girl.” He muttered the last part and he noticed your movements were growing slower.

You blinked, your doe eyes becoming unfocused. The Valium was taking effect and he smirked with satisfaction. God, you were such a little bimbo slut.

“Rafey…I feel so tired…” you yawned and he traced his ringed fingers along your skin where your skirt had rode up.

“Go to sleep, baby. You’ll be all nice and safe when you wake up.” Rafe trembled as you slumped over, your mouth parting as you drifted to a deep sleep.

That’s it. That’s my fucking girl. So obedient.

Your body feels weighed down, you try to open your eyes but it feels like someone put bags of sand on top of them. The last thing you remember is falling asleep in Rafe’s car, but what you’re laying on right now is definitely not a car seat. It feels like the most plush mattress you’ve ever laid on, even softer than the one in your grandparents guest room. Your head feels like it’s resting on a cloud, and the air smells nice. Like vanilla and strawberries.

After a few minutes of struggling you finally force your eyes to open slightly. There’s a soft warm light illuminating the room, and what looks like a sheer pink canopy on the ceiling above you. Your body still feels heavy but you’re able to move your hands now, spreading your fingers and running your palms across a silky soft blanket. You turn your head to the side and your eyes land on a pink wall with the prettiest vanity you’ve ever seen pushed up against it. You weave your head the other way, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Up against the opposite wall there’s a rack filled with clothes and from what you can tell it’s all things you’d wear.

You try to push yourself up on your palms, now extremely aware of how dry your mouth is, how thirsty you are. But your body still feels too weak. You let out a little groan and lull your head back against the soft pillow.

“Hey, hey, don’t try to move, Angel. I’ve got you.”

“Rafe?” Your voice comes out a cracked whisper, you can’t see him, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s him.

“Yeah bunny, it’s me, daddy’s here.” The self proclaimed title sends a shiver down your spine.

“Daddy? What’s going on? Where am I?” You’re about to try to push yourself up again when Rafe comes into view. He’s towering over you, looking down at you with what only could be described as adoration.

“You’re home.” His large hand reaches out to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb running over the apple of your cheek.

“Home? This isn’t my grandparents' house - I - I’m so thirsty.” You nuzzle into his palm almost subconsciously. You’ve spent so many nights now dreaming about his touch, more than just the brief thigh touches or a hand on your shoulder. It felt so nice.

“Shh shh, baby it’s okay. Don’t overwhelm yourself. Here, I’ll help you sit up, I have some water here.” His snakes one arm underneath your head and the other behind your knees, hoisting you up against the headboard with ease. Now that you’re sitting up you have a better view of the room. It’s beautiful. Something out of your wildest dreams.

“Where - where are we?” You ask with wide eyes, your voice filled with borderline awe.

“I told you Angel, we’re home. This is for you. I did this all for you.” He takes the cap off the water bottle sitting on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips. You eagerly chug it down, the cool liquid calming the burn in your throat.

“For me? Rafe? How did I get here? Did you change my clothes?” Now that you’re feeling more aware you realize you’re no longer wearing your work uniform. Instead you’re wearing a little silk nighty with white lace embellishments. It’s soft and comfortable and honestly gorgeous.

“Bunny… I need you to listen to me, alright?” He discards the water bottle so he can sit on the bed next to you, his hand returning to your face. You nod against his palm, looking up at him with big wide eyes. “Use your words.”

“I’m listening, Rafey.”

“Call me daddy when I’m talking to you like this, alright baby?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“I - fuck - I did what I had to do alright? I did what’s best for you. You’re too fragile, too precious for this world. That first day I saw you working at the club, I knew I needed you. Knew you needed me.” You try to hold in your smirk, you really do. But you were already starting to crack as it was, and this? This isn’t something you would’ve expected.

“Oh I know, daddy, I see the way you look at me… you didn’t answer my question though. How did I get here, huh? Did you slip something in that milkshake? Knock me out? Strip me down and get a good look at my little body?” You look at him with a Cheshire smile, and a gleam in your eye he’s never seen.

“Hey, I didn’t fuckin’ do any weird shit if that’s what you’re thinking, I want you fully aware of your surroundings the first time I have you. That is until I fuck you so good you forget everything but my name…”

“So kidnapping and drugging me isn’t considered weird? Got it.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I knew you wanted me, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. I have to say, daddy, it’s kind of hot.”

“The fuck you mean you knew?” His brows furrow, his nostrils slightly flare and you can tell you hit a nerve. But you just couldn’t keep up this clueless girl act anymore, not after he went to all these lengths just to get you. You needed him to know you wanted him just as bad.

“I mean, I’m not blind. You look at me like you want to put me in a cage and never let me go. You drive me home everyday. You offered to buy me new nails the first day you met me. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice how jealous you got when you saw that guy doing my pedicure. And guess what? The funny part is, you didn’t need the drugs to get me. I would’ve just let you take me.”

“You knew this entire time how badly I wanted you?” You nod and his hand reaches out to grip your jaw, rougher than before. “I told you to use your words, bunny.”

“Yes, I knew.” You smirk at him and he adjusts his grip so he’s pinching your cheeks.

“And you still continued to tease me like a little slut? Bend over and flash me your little panties every time you got out of my car? Always pushing those tits up against my arm and batting your lashes at me? Was that all some kind of act? You trynna scam me?” His hand migrates from your face to your throat, his thick fingers tightening against your esophagus deliciously.

“Daddy, no. It wasn’t an act at all. I want you so bad. Just wanted to see how far I could push you before you finally cracked. I have to say, you exceeded my expectations. I can’t believe you did all of this just for me. That’s so sexy.”

“Oh, so you’re just a little fuckin’ tease. That it?”

“I wasn’t teasing, you could’ve had me any time. You just got in your head that you had to carry out this elaborate scheme to keep me, when I’m already yours.” Rafe practically growls, he feels tricked, he feels frustrated that he risked hurting you with those drugs when you wanted him all along. But most of all? He’s so fucking horny.

“Well, I want you right fuckin’ now.” He uses his grip on your throat to push you onto your back and eases his body over top of yours.

Your breathing intensifies as you give him a small smirk. Of course you knew he wanted you. You may be a bimbo but you had common fucking sense. His blue eyes burned whenever he looked at you with a hunger that was impossible to deny. The material of his shirt rubbed against your bare skin, your slip riding up from his movements that left you pinned on the mattress under his mercy. His palm pressed against your throat felt heavenly, his fingers locked around the sides of your neck held you down posessively.

“You fucking slut. You liked it this the whole time. Liked playing with me. I’m gonna make you regret it.” Rafe flipped you over, grabbing your hips and yanking you up on your hands, your ass up in the air. Your pussy clenches around nothing before Rafe’s hand slaps your ass, hard enough to make you jolt forward as his other hand flies to your hair, holding you in place with a makeshift ponytail.

“Apologize to daddy. Say you’re sorry.” He growls and you want to be a brat and say no, but his fingers slide from your hair down, down, down to your entrance, sinking knuckle deep in your cunt. His two digits play inside you, curling in a come here motion and your slick welcomes him in further as his thumb brushes against your clit with a delicious pressure. “Mmm, wanna give you love, bunny, but you’ve been a bad girl.” He grunts and you whine with your face pressed against the bed.

“Sorry, daddy! I’m sorry I acted bad!” You shriek when he spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark. He spanks you again, and again and again. Tears prick your eyes and you hear him shift as he releases you. You fall forward, crashing onto the blanket and you feel his hands take your ankles. He moves you around on your back, dragging you to the headboard.

“Dumb little kitty. Bet you’re so wet from this. Let’s see,” He gives you a predatory smile and shoves off his black tie. He pins your wrists down, using your weakness to his advantage as he loops it around your hands. He ties you to the headboard and his knee spreads your legs, making you feel the air on your damp panties.

Rafe breathes through his mouth in a taunting huff, “look at that. You’re such a little whore for me. Wet from me hurting you? Drugging you? God damn you’re so pathetic. I love it.”

As you jerk, trying to move you realize you’re completely trapped by him. Rafe looms over you, cupping your jaw. “Open your fucking mouth,” He hisses and you immediately obey. He spits inside, “swallow it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” You shudder at his filthy words.

Rafe crawls down, sliding your panties down your legs. A groan escaping him at your sticky pussy on display for him as he spreads your knees.

“Mmmm, so good. You’re so worked up.” He situates himself on the bed, burying his mouth against you, his tongue lewdly licks at your clit like an ice cream cone. His heated lips suck at your center with loud moans as he grinds into the mattress.

Your hips buck, his nose continually brushing against the underside of your clit as he laps all around before thrusting his tongue inside your entrance, gathering every single ounce of precum he can get.

“Fuck, daddy. Feels so good, I needed this.” You barely manage and he chuckles.

“Desperate, huh? Needed daddy to fuck this tight little pussy? My little girl is such a good bunny.”

Your stomach tightens, a tightening coil in your belly growing the more he licks you up relentlessly. He rips away, whipping your juices from his chin. His cock inside his trousers looks painfully hard.

“I’m going to make you fucking scream.”

Rafe pushes himself up on his knees, easily ridding himself of his button up and then moving onto his slacks. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock, you knew he’d be big, but it’s even better than you imagined. All those nights trying to stifle the moans of his name so your parents didn’t hear you.

“Fuck daddy, your cock is so pretty.” You’re practically drooling. “Fuck my mouth.”

He finds himself questioning if you’re even real at this point. His little angel all tied up and laid out, practically begging him to use your pretty mouth. He straddles your face, the head of his heavy cock brushes against your lips and you flick your tongue out. You moan at the taste of the bead of precum that gathered at the tip.

“Fuckin’ look at you, gonna let me use this little mouth?” He taps his cock against your outstretched tongue a few times before using his free hand to grip onto your hair, pulling your head back. “Open wide, slut.”

You stick your tongue out as far as it can go and he glides his length across it. He thrusts slow a few times before shoving his cock down your throat, causing you to gag.

“Yeah, that’s right, fucking choke on it.” You close your lips around him, taking a deep breath through your nose as he begins to assault your throat with rough thrusts. His groans are almost animalistic as he uses you for his own pleasure. You moan around his cock, clenching your thighs together at the feeling of being at his mercy. “Mmm bunny, this mouth is so fucking good. But I bet that little pussy is ever better. She was practically begging for me to fill her. Is that what you want?”

He uses his grip on your hair to pull you off his cock, leaning back so he can look down at you with a condescending pout.

“Please daddy, want it so bad. Want your cock, want your cum. Fill me up.” His large hand grips your face, punching your cheeks together as he tilts your head from side to side.

“You’re such a good little bunny, begging for daddy’s cock like my own personal little slut. That’s all you’re gonna be from now on. Mine to fill, to use, to fuck, to spoil. You’re never going to have to think about a single thing ever again.” He expertly undoes the tie binding your wrists, gripping onto your hips and flipping you onto your stomach again.

“Yes daddy, that’s all I want, just want you. Wanna be your good girl. Want you to take care of me.” You whine into the sheets. “Please fuck me daddy, please don’t make me wait any-“

You’re cut off abruptly when he pulls your ass up into the air, lining his cock up with your entrance. He fills you up in one rough thrust, your slick walls practically sucking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a brutal pace.

“Oh fuck yeah, this fucking pussy is even better than I imagined. You’re so fucking tight, never gonna stop fucking you baby. Gonna keep you full day and night.”

“Daddy daddy daddy, it feels so good. So good. You’re so big.” You let him take you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You’re gripping the sheets so tight you’re scared your new nails are going to tear through them and drool is dripping down your chin and onto the fabric.

“Yeah, fucking take it, slut. Take this fucking dick.” He leans forward, his thick forearm snaking around your throat. He uses his grip on you to pull you up so your back is flush against his chest. You didn’t think anyone could ever be so deep inside of you, and the pressure on your throat makes your head light in the best way.

“Oh my god, daddy, I’m gonna cum.” His free hand finds your clit, and the minute he’s circling it your orgasm is crashing over you. You thrash in his hold, a pornographic moan ripping through you.

“Fuck yes angel, fucking cum for your daddy. Pussy is fucking squeezing me. Gonna make me cum. Look at me.” His hand leaves your clit, roughly gripping onto your jaw so he can pull your head to the side. It’s borderline painful the way your neck is craned so you can look up into his blue eyes. But when he smashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss you can’t bring yourself to care.

Rafe continues to fuck into you, his tongue invading your mouth, intertwining with yours. He pushes his hips flush against your ass as he reaches his high, filling you with ropes of his cum.

“That’s it, good fucking girl. You're so good for me.” He releases your throat, pulling out of you slowly, causing you to whine. He eases you onto your back, leaning over top of you to place a much more tender kiss than before on your lips. “Let me clean you up baby.”

He gets up, quickly wetting a washcloth in the ensuite bathroom. He rushes back to your side, running the warm cloth along your folds.

“Mmm thank you, daddy. That feels nice.” You hum.

“Yeah? Gotta take care of my angel, you’re my responsibility now. I’m going to do everything and anything you need.” He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side so you can rest your head on his chest. “I am sorry about the way I went about this. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. The first day I saw you I knew I needed to have you. Knew you were meant for me.”

“I feel the same, daddy. All you had to do is ask. Although, I must admit, it was honestly pretty sexy this way. You might be observant but there’s still a lot you have to learn about me.” You happily nuzzle into his chest. You’ve never felt so safe before. “I love my room by the way, it’s perfect. Does this mean I don’t get to sleep with you though?” You pout.

“Of course you get to sleep with me, Angel. I just wanted you to have a space of your own here.” He runs his fingers through your hair, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There’s going to be ground rules that I want you to follow, but we can go over those when you’re more clear headed. Wanna take a bath?”

“Yeah Rafey, a bath sounds nice.”

[pitchsidestories]

don't want you like a best friend II Steph Catley x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1748

a/n: inspired by this request here, we hope you'll like it.🥰

it's coffee time (group chat)

Steph

girls !!!

Jen

what's up, Stephy? It must be late where you're mate.

Beth

don’t write girls and let us wait!

Steph

I need to confess something.

Beth

tell us!!!

Steph

my best friend is gorgeous.

Beth

that was all? Wow, what a let-down 🥱              

Steph

I think I'm in love with her.

Jen

you’re messing with us. You’re not serious, right?

RIGHT?

Beth

that must be a joke.

Steph

no, I'm serious.

Jen

are you absolutely sure about your feelings for her?

The next day

Steph

girls, I obviously meant it platonically. Sorry, I was a bit tipsy last night😅

Jen

drunk people and children always tell the truth.

Beth

you two should talk about this.                          

Steph

we're on vacation.

Jen

yeah, perfect opportunity for it

Ever since your started playing for the Matildas youth teams, you and Steph had been best friends. You were roommates at every game, you were the first person that got to meet Calvin when he was still a puppy and of course, the two of you would go on vacation together to switch off from the stress of football.

This year, Steph had booked a beautiful hotel with a huge pool for the two of you. Your room overlooked the ocean, and you were completely in awe when you first walked in.

In fact, you still were mesmerized by the beautiful view a few days later when you got ready to go down to the pool. You pulled an oversized shirt over your bikini and turned towards Steph who sat on her bed, frantically typing on her phone.

“Come on, Steph. Time to go down to the pool, the weather is perfect.“

“I’m coming in a sec.“, she said, her gaze still on her phone.

You gathered your stuff for the pool, throwing a towel over your shoulder: “Okay.“

Steph finished typing and turned off her phone: “I’m ready.“

“Perfect. Let’s go.“, you smiled as the two of you made your way to the pool.

It was still empty, the blue water glimmered temptingly in the midday sun, inviting you in. You dropped all your stuff on a deckchair and without hesitation jumped in.

Steph stared at you in surprise as you emerged back to the surface. You grinned at her, pushing your wet hair back. She looked so shocked, she must have missed that you had just jumped in.

She shook her head in disbelief but a smile softened her features.

“Is it cold?“, she asked?

“No, very refreshing.“, you laughed, splashing some water into her direction.

She quickly pulled her feet back to avoid getting wet.

“Maybe I’ll come in too.“

“You should!“

Steph got up from her deckchair and in contrast to you, used the ladder to get into the pool. Halfway in, the cold water hit her calves and with a shriek, she climbed back out.

You immediately burst into laughter. One of the toughest players that you knew and she still couldn’t handle cold water.

“You’re such a liar!“, Steph yelled and gave you reproachful look.

“Sorry but your face was so worth it.“, you wheezed.

“Hate you.“, she pouted jokingly.

“No, you don’t.“, you smiled, pushing yourself out of the pool.

She shook her head: “No, I don’t.“

“See.“, you grinned as you walked over to her, your arms outstretched and dripping water on the concrete.

Steph cursed under her breath as you pulled her into a very wet hug: “Ew, you’re dripping water everywhere!“

“Sorry not sorry.“

She rolled her eyes with fondness and moved her clothes in a pile from the deckchair so it wouldn’t get wet: “You’re so annoying.“

“Excuse me? I’m not as annoying as Kyra.“, you laughed and sat down next to her.

“No one’s as annoying as that little pest.”, Steph countered. Even in her pretended annoyance her love for the younger teammate shimmered through. They really were like mother and daughter sometimes.

“You love her too though.”, you smiled at her before your face turned serious.

After a pause you changed the topic. “Can we talk about last night?”

“You mean when I almost kissed you?”, she asked cautiously in return.

“Yes.”, you nodded slowly.

Not looking into your eyes, your best friend glanced at her fingernails instead.

“That was dumb.”, Steph muttered under her breath.

“Best friends don’t do that.”, you remarked calmly.

“I told you; it was nothing.”, the defender insisted fiercely.

“What if..”, you started carefully but were immediately interrupted by your friend.

“What if what? Is this one of those but what if we kissed as a joke things?”, she huffed.

“No, I’d never joke about such things.”, you stated firmly.

“Wait? What are you trying to say?”, Steph gave you a look you couldn’t quite interpret.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”, you mumbled.

“That’s why you didn’t kiss me last night? That’s why you pulled back when I tried to kiss you?”, your friend pressed on, biting her lip anxiously.

“Yes and call me old school but you were tipsy and I didn’t want you to regret it.”, you smiled weakly.

“I.. that’s very sweet of you.”, she replied softly.

“But would you like to kiss me?”, you asked her, your heart pounding hard against your chest. It was a question which potentially could change your friendship forever.

“I think I do.”, Steph admitted, putting a loose hair string back behind her ear.

“Me too.”, you confessed nervously.

“You do?”, she glanced at you surprised.

“Yes.”, you confirmed, sounding sincere.

“I guess we should then.”, your best friend grinned shily.

“I agree.” You could hear her stomach growl, so you quickly added with a smirk on your lips. “Maybe we should have dinner first.”  

“Please.”, Steph answered while you walked hand in hand to the restaurant inside the hotel.

“That was so delicious, and the dessert was perfect.”, you sighed happily, once you both had finished your dinner.

“Agreed, it was really good.”, the defender said.

“Can I?”, you have begun almost timidly. The anticipation for the first real kiss has risen for you two over the course of the three courses meal, it was nearly unbearable. You were so hungry for the touch of your friends soft and sweet lips. Waiting for her reply.

“Yes.“, Steph said quietly.

That was all it needed, you leaned forward and kissed her gently and carefully. You pulled away after a few seconds, searching for any hint in your best friends face. “And? What do you think?“

Steph bit her lip with a smile, her eyes sparkling in excitement: “Can I try again?“

“Please.“, you laughed. This time you let her initiate the kiss.

Stephs lips found yours with impatience and a sense of urgency. This kiss lasted longer, it was more passionate.

“I like it!“, Steph decided as she ended the kiss abruptly.

“I like it too.“, you grinned.

You noticed that she was still staring at your lips.

“I never kissed anyone that tastes so good.“, she admitted.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to reference the Matildas’ iconic warm up song which was also Stephs favourite song of all time: “Strawberry kisses.“

“Nothing’s as sweet, the taste still drives me crazy.“, she sang the lyrics.

“Such a good song, I hope we’ll hear it at the Olympics.“

Steph looked at you like you had gone crazy for a moment: “Of course we will!“

You grinned at her: “Of course. You’ll play it.“

“Exactly.“, she confirmed, lost in thoughts while her fingertips reached for yours.

This year’s vacation must have been your favourite so far. There were many more kisses after your very first one, slow mornings in the hotel bed and lazy touches in the afternoon sun.

The memories of your holidays followed you to the Matildas training camp a few days later.

As usual, you arrived with Steph. Only this time, there was more between you than just friendship.

You felt like you were constantly grinning, like all your teammates would know immediately by just looking at you.

But there was no time to greet the other player as you were knocked off balance by Kyra who pulled you and Steph into a hug: “Missed my mums!“

You frowned at her but laughed: “Mini is over there. She is your mum.“

You pointed towards Katrina with Harper sitting in her lap.

Kyra rolled her eyes: “Yes, but…“

She didn’t have to finish her sentence, you understood.

“She’s busy with her two small children?“

“Yeah.“, Kyra pouted playfully.

Steph gently stroked the younger players hair: “Poor pest.“

You met Stephs gaze with a grin and shrugged: “I guess it’s our turn to babysit, babe.“

“Babe?!“, Kyra and Caitlin both echoed simultaneously.

Kyra pulled out of the hug to study the two of you with excited, curious eyes while Caitlins face was pure bewilderment.

Steph bit her lip and reached for your hand: “I don’t think I have to explain this, right?“

“Yes, you do!“, Caitlin disagreed, impatient to get the full story.

“It just happened.“, Steph offered her short version of events which earned her an eye roll from Caitlin.

“So, you two are not only best friends but girlfriends now?!”, Kyra gasped dramatically.

“Yes. She’s, my girlfriend.”, your lover confirmed, smiling proudly at you.

“Wow, that’s amazing.”, Caitlin yelled excitedly.

“Thanks, Caitlin.”, you gave her a grateful smile.

“So that happens when two best friends go on a vacation together.”, Mackenzie commented with a huge grin on her lips.

“More like when two people who had a crush on each other for years go on a vacation together.”, you corrected her.

“And who were too afraid to ruin such an old friendship.”, Steph added, looking at you lovingly.

“My favourite idiots in love.”, Alanna sighed, moved.

“Lani, we’re not idiots.”, you protested smirking.

“You’re a bit.”, the Portland Thorns goalkeeper disagreed amused, referring to for how long it took the two of you to realize that you don't want each other like best friends.There always have been something more than friendship and your teammates saw that all along.

“But only a bit.”, you replied.

“As long as you finally figured it out.”, Caitlin intervened soothingly.

“That’s so cute but can we all get ready for training now.”, Tony Gustavsson requested smiling.

“Ugh, Tony.”, the youngest Arsenal player groaned.

While the training begun you thought to yourself that were was nothing better than to be on that football journey together with your friends and the love of your life.

[convenientalias]

Why Nirvana in Fire Wins at Revenge Story with Identity Porn

Nirvana in Fire was my first ever cdrama that was a revenge story with identity porn. Since then, I've seen many other dramas along similar lines. A League of Nobleman. Blood of Youth. City of Streamer. Fighting for Love. Legend of Anle. Long Ballad. Princess Weiyoung. Rise of Phoenixes. Sword Dynasty. Weaving a Tale of Love. Word of Honor. Some of them are quite good but none of them really hit the same way. So, apart from the fact that it was the first one I ever watched, I thought I'd made a brief list of reasons why I think Nirvana in Fire is the best.

Lin Shu's Identity

I just appreciate that when shit went down and Lin Shu's whole family and army and many of his friends were killed and he became a man on the run, he was a full-grown man (okay, still pretty young, but definitely not a child) with his own life and even an army position.

A lot of these identity porn dramas will have their MCs meeting ppl for the first time in many years, in disguise, but they only knew these ppl when they were children. Childhood friends are great and all that, but can they hit as hard as the complicated, fleshed out relationships that Lin Shu had and lost? He had a friendship of many years with Jingyan. He had an engagement and a longstanding friendship with Nihuang. He has friends from the army, younger cousins playing the role of "we don't even understand what happened back then and maybe that's better", older friends and relations who he actually knew as an adult.

Simultaneously, his past identity increases the threat of discovery for Lin Shu. He's a known factor to many, many people in the capital. Yes, they think he's dead. But small things like a hazelnut allergy or his mannerisms or his previous friendships with people are still memorable enough that even with a completely different face, if he's not careful, he might give himself away. He's not infiltrating a group of strangers or people who only knew him as a kid. He's infiltrating a group of people who were close to him for many, many years of his life.

HOWEVER. Lin Shu's identity is not so important that everyone in the capital is still obsessed with him twelve years later (with some exceptions). This isn't Mysterious Lotus Casebook where we're all still pining for Li Xiangyi, because...

2. The Chiyan Case Wasn't Even About Lin Shu?? (Also, No One Cares About That Ancient History Anymore (Jingyan, Sit Down))

The Chiyan case wasn't about the Lin family at all, really.

No one specifically wanted Lin Shu dead or had a big grudge against his dad or anything. It's all about power, military and political. For some conspirators, it was just about getting a leg up in court. But mostly, it was about Prince Qi, the previous crown prince. The Lin family just happened to be friends with him and ended up in an uncomfortable (highly murderable and frameable) position.

Lin Shu may mourn his family, but for the majority of the show, he doesn't talk about it. He doesn't talk about his mother and his family back at the capital either committing suicide or being killed indiscriminately. He only mentions his father's name a handful of times in the whole show. Lin Shu's drive is that his father's ARMY was killed, tens of thousands of men. That's the weight on Lin Shu's shoulders: the death of all these innocent men because they were in the way. The Chiyan Case; the Chiyan Massacre. The denouement of Lin Shu's victory (not to give too many spoilers) is not just his father's name being cleared of a treason charge. It's when there's finally a memorial put up for the Chiyan Army, with memorial tablets that he can publicly visit to pay respects.

Why does this make it a better revenge story with identity porn? A couple reasons. First, Lin Shu is very much the center of the story and has very personal beef, but he treats himself like a tool and his objective isn't about himself or familial connections (they're part of it but they're not everything). He doesn't even know all the people he's avenging. That's fine; he'll still carry that weight. I just think it's neat.

Second, the fact that the Lin family (and the whole Chiyan Army) were really just collateral damage for getting rid of Prince Qi really emphasizes just how careless the current regime is of the value of human life.

Third, as Meng Zhi says when Lin Shu comes to the capital, everyone at court is busy with their own little power struggles and no one has time to care about Lin Shu or protect him. Lin Shu's like yeah that's fine :) I'm not anyone's focus anymore and the Lin family has been swept under the rug like we never existed :) and no one even talks about the Chiyan case anymore for fear of being accuse of treason :) that's all okay because I'm about TO MAKE THIS EVERYONE'S PROBLEM ANYWAY and honestly the fact that everyone's trying their hardest to forget will just make them more oblivious when I come to fuck them up.

3. All Of This is Whose Fault, Again?

That's right, folks, we're in a show that knows that when shit goes down at court and your family gets framed for treason and the emperor orders them executed, sure, you can blame the conspirators who framed them all you want, but also, YOU KIND OF DO HAVE TO BLAME THE EMPEROR.

People have said enough about how great this is on a thematic level of accountability but seriously I've seen so many shows dodge this. ~It's not the emperor's fault bc he was misled by these conspirators~ or ~the emperor is only a puppet emperor, if he actually had power instead of this evil person, he would put everything right.~ Or, if they dare to blame the emperor, maybe he's just an evil emperor and was bad all along. NIF says yeah, he was lied to on many levels. There was a whole complicated conspiracy going on and many people to blame. But he could have taken things slower. He could have required better evidence. He could have trusted people who had supported him for many years, at least enough to listen to their side of the story BEFORE KILLING THEM. And why didn't he? It's not because he's an idiot. It's because he's an emperor, and emperors don't like seeing other people gain enough power to even potentially become a threat. It's because he wasn't looking for the truth, he was looking for an excuse to kill. And he's not unusually evil for that; this kind of callousness towards murder and grasping for power at all costs is more the norm at court than any kind of honor or morality.

The Emperor's a nice guy sometimes! He used to fly kites with Lin Shu when he was young! His sons give him a headache, but honestly, relatable, they'd give you a headache too! He likes Consort Jing and honestly, who wouldn't! And he killed one of his sons, one of his closest friends, and an entire army, and he would do it again without hesitation. He's not especially evil. Being an emperor is bad enough.

4. Other Bad Guys

It's worth mentioning that Lin Shu's opponents are not stupid.

Xie Yu and Xia Jiang, Prince Yu and the Crown Prince, even the Empress and Noble Consort Yue: They aren't all geniuses, but they aren't idiots flailing around in spite. They're pretty smart, and if Lin Shu wants to take them down, he has to be smarter.

It's also worth mentioning that this is not one of those shows where the protagonist happens to take down his opponents mostly by standing still and just defending himself when they lash out at him. This seems like an obvious thing in a revenge drama, but the number of times I've seen the opposite, the protagonist swearing revenge and then just struggling with self preservation.... but no. Lin Shu has A Plan. He is going to be proactive and actually take his enemies down. Admittedly he will do this by revealing their past misdeeds but this isn't a case of "the misdeeds will just happen to pop up". This is a case of "I will actively unearth skeletons from where you threw them in a well in an abandoned manor".

TO SUM UP

Without going into the things that make Nirvana in Fire a great show in general (great acting, good pacing and plotting, good costuming, and so on and so forth) I think the main things that make it hit for me as a revenge story with identity porn are 1) letting the MC's past identity be that of a grown man who actually had a life (more connections to the past, but also more to lose and more danger in the present as a result), 2) the fact that the offense that the MC is avenging wasn't even like a personal thing to the offenders (bc! it's fucking infuriating!), 3) the fact that the drama is willing to face the root of the problem (the problem is both corruption at court and the fact that the highest arbiter is flawed, not just individual conspirators), 4) the supply of multiple good antagonists, and 5) LETTING THE MC ACTUALLY, ACTIVELY PURSUE REVENGE AND THAT'S THE MAIN PLOT AND WE AREN'T SPENDING MOST OF OUR SCREENTIME ON SIDEPLOTS AND ROMANCE OR MERE SELF PRESERVATION. These may not seem like large things but my friends, you would be surprised how many revenge dramas I've watched at this point that can't do them.

ok I'm done ranting. Feel like most of this is actually stating the obvious but I'm just in a mood and had to get it out. (...also possibly I've been let down by some revenge dramas lately but I won't get into it. it's okay. we can't all be Nirvana in Fire; only Nirvana in Fire can be Nirvana in Fire.)

[lehguru]

Would you mind making a JJK version of older users insecure about others judging their relationship with a younger partner? 🙏🏽

THINK YOU NEED SOMEONE YOUNGER + JUJUTSU KAISEN

jujutsu kaisen men feeling insecure about having a younger partner ft. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento

info + tw: tbh this theme for one piece was my nightmare, i cant write anything for shanks cuz i feel exactly like that one meme from Akira lol. tw age gap (reader is significantly younger than them, but over 20) so mdni pls — ko-fi

gojo satoru didn't really care about anything others said when it came to your relationship. all that mattered to him was your opinion of the relationship; but, often, he would wonder why you chose to date him.

one day, while you both were chilling in your shared apartment, you noticed gojo looking at you a lot more than normal. he just stared at you, his cheek resting against his palm; his eyes still held the absolute adoration he have for you, but you could sense something was bothering him. putting your phone to the side, you snuggled against him, one of his arms coming to hug your shoulder. "are you okay, satoru? is something bothering you?" he nodded and sighed.

"you are gorgeous, you know that?" you rolled your eyes at his sappy behavior, but he continued. "'m serious! you can be with anyone you want. was just wonderin' why you are with a guy like me, when you could be with, i don't know, someone younger or something." you giggled and shook your head. before he could say anything, you murmured: "i've never met someone 'younger' that was hot and handsome like you. plus, you're rich." he gasped dramatically and you laughed loudly, "i love you, my old man." he smiled and hugged you tightly, his lips pressing a kiss on top of your head.

geto suguru, just like gojo, doesn't care at all about the age gap between you two. even if you two are at somewhat different moments of your life, he is glad to be the one you chose to be next to you through the good and the bad moments. whenever people give you two a glance that last too long or whisper about you, one cold look from him is enough to make them cower away.

one day, the comments ended up getting to you. you knocked on the door of his office and you heard a soft 'come in'. his soft smile dropped as soon as he saw your expression; "is everything okay?" he murmured, motioning for you to come closer. you sat on his lap, your head buried on his neck, and he hugged your waist. with his scent making you feel better, you murmured: "someone called me a gold digger today."

you heard geto click his tongue, his arms tightening around you. "they are simply idiots. pay them no mind, alright?" he pulled away enough to hold your chin and make you look into his purple eyes. "i adore you. i adore to pamper you. that should be enough. ignore them, angel." you pressed a kiss on his soft lips, making him chuckle. his words were always enough to calm you down and you had no idea how he does it, he just do.

nanami kento often thought about your age gap, but it wasn't exactly because of the age itself. he had a plan for his life; he was going to work and save enough money to hit his 50's and move to malaysia. that's it. but... now that you're in the picture, he doesn't know if that could happen.

he didn't want you to lose the best years of your youth with him. or lose those years at a secluded place with only him to spend the rest of your life with. he didn't want you to regret your love for him. "are you okay, kento?" you asked, hugging him from behind and placing a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. he nodded, his thoughts now floating away. "yes, love." he turned off the stove, the breakfast he was preparing for you made the kitchen smell divine.

"why are you up this early?" nanami turned around and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his palm resting on your cheek. "well..." he started to feel your face heat up under his touch. "i was looking at some plane tickets. to malaysia. i know, i know, they are expensive. i just thought it would be good to see where we will live, you know? maybe look at a place near the beach?" and just like that. all his worries melted away. he smiled, a soft and small smile that you adored with all your heart, and murmured. "it sounds good."

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